Part 11
“As you can see we have all the latest in exercise equipment!” The slim trainer gave her arm a sweeping gesture past lines of gleaming chrome and black machines. “You can be guaranteed a healthy, low impact workout...” She paused to take in Brittany's pudgy form. “... perfect for beginners such as yourself.”
Signing up at a gym seemed to be the best way to achieve her goals. Brittany had seen countless commercials for the high-end facility and felt that it would be the perfect supportive setting for losing pounds. Enrollment included a guided tour of the facility and a complimentary session with a trainer.
“Over here are the...”
Brittany was finding that just keeping up with the trainer's brisk pace was a workout in itself. She struggled to keep her breathing quiet and even. This worked somewhat until they reached the stairs to the upper level. Don't they have an elevator?, she wondered, pausing halfway up the second flight to catch her breath. Even without looking she could feel the condescending stare of the trainer waiting at the top.
“We have lots of entry level choices...” The slim woman continued the instant Brittany's foot hit the top of the landing. She was off in a flash leaving her client struggling to catch up.
Thank Gawd a few minutes of peace!
Brittany was in the locker room getting dressed for her assisted workout. It'd seemed like a good idea at the time, but after tagging along behind Miss Triathalon for a half hour she was already pooped! By now thoughts of planting her soft derrière on the sofa seemed much more desirable. C'mon girl you can do it. With a sigh she picked out her new workout gear and put it on. A shiny black tracksuit completed the outfit, it's nylon cool to the touch made swishing sounds with every movement.
Before heading out to where the trainer was waiting she gave one last appraisal in the mirror. Is that really me? Brittany still had trouble dealing with her new identity. In the mirror her full cheeks were still a bit flushed from the recent exertion. Under the harsh fluorescents her untanned skin looked more like a pallor. Of course Brittany's hair and blue eyes still looked fantastic, but that hardly registered to the distressed girl. Her attention was too focused on what lay below to pay her golden locks much heed. The tracksuit clung tightly to her thighs, emphasizing their fullness. She'd realized this earlier of course when buying the outfit. There was no way she was going to buy an XL. Besides, she'd told herself it would help motivate her.
Actually wearing the outfit in public, however... that was another matter.
Forcing herself to look away, Brittany zipped up the top causing the nylon to pull taut against her full breasts, she tried to ignore the way it also pulled against her belly. Well, here goes nothing...
As expected, her trainer was lying in ambush just outside the locker room doors. The svelte redhead had been doing some sort of yoga stretch maneuver that defied the laws of physics. Despite the fact, she sprang to her feet in an instant and took in her client.
“You didn't read the brochure did you?” She asked, more a judgment than a question.
Brittany shrank slightly under the woman's gaze. “Umm, no...”
The redhead or “Tiffany” if you read her nametag, began lecturing Brittany as if instructing a child. “Here at World of Fitness we take the threat of heat exhaustion very seriously. It is a common misconception that full body suits lead to increased weight loss, whereas all they really accomplish is excessive dehydration and often dangerous body temperatures.”
“Meaning I can't exercise?” Brittany's weak voice almost sounded hopeful.
“I assume you aren't naked under that thing are you?”
“Well no, I...”
“Good! Take it off then. It's good to start off on the right path.”
Brittany felt more than a little embarrassed, but even more intimidated by the trainer's authoritative nature. Despite her misgivings she felt her hands beginning to unzip the top.
“There! That's better!” Tiffany declared once her client had shimmied out of the tight pants.
Brittany somehow felt small yet big as a whale at the same time. Protectively... not to mention inadequately she placed her arm across the pale expanse of her belly. She could feel each and every goosebump that had risen from the warm soft flesh.
“You did remember to bring water I hope?” Challenged the trainer.
“Y...yes, it's in my bag.”
“Good, then follow me!”
At that, the lithe woman did an about face and marched down the hall at a fast clip. Brittany barely had time to shoulder her yoga bag before the trainer rounded the first corner. Struggling to catch up Brittany couldn't help but feel the way her thighs and butt jiggled in the attempt. They weren't alone. She could feel the soft flesh of her belly quivering in unison, heck even her arms seemed to have a life of their own.
Their destination stretched out in an unending gauntlet as every eye seemed upon her.
“Do you have any lighter weights?” Brittany asked only minutes into a warm-up. Her arms ached from the 3lb grip-weights held at arm's length.
Tiffany looked incredulous, but maintained her professionalism. “Well, we have some of the children's ones over there.”
Following the woman's gesture, Brittany spotted a rack of brightly colored weights. Abandoning the current stretching exercise, she let her arms drop, then walked over and exchanged her weights for a set of neon green 1lb ones.
After the warm-up Tiffany jotted down some quick notes, then gestured her client to follow her out to the machines. Brittany really dreaded this part. At least in the adjacent room they'd been mostly alone, except for an elderly woman doing nearly the same routine with some 10lb dumbbells. Out in the main area, however it seemed as if every athletic person in the city had decided to come out and exercise. Row after row featured chiseled hunks or svelte young women bounding effortlessly away on the treadmills and ellipticals.
“... should be a good one to start on.” Tiffany gestured to a high-tech looking treadmill.
Brittany climbed on, acutely aware of the snickers and comments from a group of young girls behind her.
“Ok, just a second as I program in your target heart rate...” Several beeps accompanied the trainer's actions. “OK here you go!”
Instantly the machine sprang to life, humming quietly as the belt beneath her began to turn. Brittany felt her legs instinctively match pace to keep in place. I guess this isn't so bad, she thought almost enjoying the relaxed pace.
“Beep. Beep. Beep!”
The humming increased as did the speed and angle of the treadmill. Brittany had to match pace as well or be swept off the back of the machine. Still it wasn't so bad.
“Lookit that ass.” Came a faint comment from behind.
“Looks like someone shaking a bag of Jell-o!”
“Maybe she's just storing some Jell-o for later.” The first voice returned, hardly able to speak with the laughter.
“Yeah, like a whole year's worth!”
There were other less kind comments too, but Brittany tried to drown them out.
“Beep. Beep!”
Again the machine picked up speed. She now had to grip the handrails to stay on. Her legs struggled to keep up. Brittany could feel her thighs rubbing furiously together with each step. The jiggling of her body had been replaced with what could only be described as a continuous quake. All over, her fat undulated in rhythm to the difficult pace of the workout. Brittany's ass seemed the most susceptible, rolling and swaying far more than she cared to admit under the thin cotton shorts.
As embarrassing as this was, her attention soon became directed elsewhere; namely catching her breath. Though what she was doing barely registered as a slight jog, Brittany could hardly maintain that. Her breathing labored, everything else slowly faded from her thoughts... even the warning beeping from the very machine beneath her.
“I think that's enough of that!” Tiffany said, suddenly shutting down the treadmill.
Concern actually doted the trainer's face as she looked from machine to client and back. Then with a shake of the head, she jotted down the triple digit heart rate as well as the four and a half minute session.
“OK there, OK. Just take deep breaths.”
Brittany still breathed heavily. The room even dimmed slightly as a wave of dizziness passed over her for a second.
“Here, why don't you sit down...” Tiffany guided the panting girl to the treadmill.
Brittany complied, barely feeling the black rubber pad beneath her. As she sat, her belly formed into several rolls, folding the band of her shorts over under their weight. The position was hardly flattering. Pale thighs for all the world to see, spread outwards. Nearly twice their usual size they pressed tightly into each other despite Brittany's knees being a good eight inches apart. Not that she could have brought them together if she tried.
“Here, have some water...”
Brittany accepted the gift, sipping not gulping it as per her instructions.
As the moment passed she became quite aware of her situation. Apparently her little scene had attracted a considerable amount of attention, not to mention being a significant source of entertainment for those around her.
Fueled by embarrassment, Brittany struggled to her feet... with Tiffany's help. Much to her relief the trainer guided them out of the sight of the unwelcome audience.
“Sorry about that.” She apologized, unable to look her trainer in the eye.
“No problem, you just overdid it is all.” Tiffany replied, flashing a rather ingenuine smile.
“So what's next?” Brittany asked, though not really wanting to know.
“How about we call it good for now?” The redhead announced, unexpectedly turning towards the locker room. “Come up to the front desk after you freshen up and we'll talk.”
Brittany didn't even have a chance to reply before the woman darted off the way they'd just came.
Barely ten minutes later she was up at the front desk. No way was she going to shower in public... not like this anyway. The old Brittany never had a problem, then again she used to be a figure of envy not ridicule.
“Hi, I'm Brittany Baker.” She announced to the muscular man at the counter. “I was told to come up here after my session.”
He reacted as if expecting her and handed her some papers. “Yes, Tif said you'd be along. Here, if you'd just sign at the bottom of these two sheets we can credit your account.”
“Credit my account?” Her voice carried well her confusion.
The man smiled politely. “Yes, well... it is our policy when there are health concerns to refund the initial payment until a doctor's release is on file...”
Doctor's release?
“... just sign here waiving World of Fitness from any liability and we'll refund the entire amount to your Visa.”
Brittany barely recalled signing the paper. The whole incident had been one nightmare after another. She'd have been glad to have forfeit the entire five hundred dollars just to be free from the place. The fact she got to keep her money was hardly a compensation.
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