The Trainer - Deanna Part I


Deanna    (Warning: explicit adult language)

Another day, another few hundred bucks. 'Almost easy money' is what I call it. Definitely easier and more respectable than what I used to do, but in a nutshell, I'm still basically having the men line up to pay for my time. Just in a different setting, now.

My experience in that other arena definitely helps me here, because I know how to charm them, and keep them dangling on the line, always wanting more...

And the little muscle shirt and tight, black lycra pants we wear as a uniform here definitely don't hurt sales, either. The person who designed these outfits is a genius!

Men. A little hint of boobies, and they go nuts! And, boy, do I get the creepiest guy clients in the whole gym. Straight up pervs that think I don't see how excited they can get you know where, when I'm training them. Take it home to your wife, buddy! Or your GF. Once our hour is over, we're DONE. No, I don't want to have coffee with you later. Are you serious???

But these horny guys that train with me just to get an eyeful keep me really busy here. I have female clients, too, but the men outnumber them 3 to 1. The other girl trainers here swear I'm doing something "illegal" to get the huge client list I have, but they're just jealous, really. I'm dishing out the same crap as everyone else in here. Mine just comes in a better looking package. Deal with it!

The guy trainers at this gym aren't much better, either. Bunch of booty hounds, all of them. Especially that damn new guy, Mike. Oh, does he EVER think that the sun rises and shines only on his self important, overly inflated ego, narcissistic ass. I can't stand guys like him, so ridiculously full of themselves, it makes you want to puke just to be around them...

He struts in here like a king on a throne, and anything female within his eye range gets this "I know you want this" look from him. WTF? With his overly gelled hair, one size too small muscle shirt, and flat little ass... Why the hell does he even BEGIN to think he's the shit? These stupid girls that come to the gym to work out fall right over for his bullshit, though. Dumb little bitches. They hang on his every look and word, waiting and hoping to become the next casualty on his bang 'em and leave 'em list. Clueless little dummies. They deserve it!

After working here for about a year, I have a jam packed list of steady clients, as many as I can handle. Things are really good right now. Nobody here knows my past, and that's a good thing. Those deeds were done in a city, far, far away. I used to make a ton of money doing what I did, but at the end of the night, I'd feel sick, depressed, and I started hating myself. Working out religiously and keeping my body tight was what helped me find another way. By being the ultimate gym rat, I found something else that I was good at. I have to say right now, that the gym saved my life. Getting certified as a trainer turned it all around. I can walk through this city with my head up, not afraid of who I'll bump into whenever I turn a corner. It feels like I can finally relax and breathe...

I found a way out. The gym and becoming a trainer saved my ass. Literally. Now, as long as none of my numb skull coworkers around here find out about my past, it's gonna stay smooth sailing. They'd make my life a living hell if they ever knew...

1 comment:

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