Gemma at the Gym

By Dru

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For Trunks12

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Feeling good about himself today, and full of energy, Trunks reached for the control knob, and dialled the speed up two notches on his treadmill. The gym was full today, and there were several people standing around waiting for a treadmill … but Trunks wasn’t nearly ready to finish up yet. He’d almost reached his usual distance, but knew he’d be running a bit further today

“Hey! String-bean! You ‘bout done or what?”

In the mirror Trunks had seen the massive woman approach. Her name was Sharon … everyone knew her. And everyone knew to avoid her.

“Nearly,” Trunks told her without turning.

A few of the other members who had been waiting longer gave Sharon death stares, but they looked instantly away when the female juggernaut turned her head their way.

“What? See something you like?” she asked them, her tone leaving no doubt of the rhetorical nature of her question.

Sharon, as everybody knew, was an IFBB professional who, at the age of 38, had turned to steroids. The problem was she didn’t really need them when she started. She’s been huge to begin with. At 42 she was now the largest and strongest person who used the gym, and she knew it. Ever since she’d broken one of bigger guy’s arms (he’d been rude to her) in an impromptu arm-wrestling match, her attitude of superiority had become almost intolerable.

“Come on, little fella,” Sharon snapped.

“Just wait a few minutes,” Trunks boldly suggested. It proved a mistake.

Sharon grunted, and reached out a massive arm. Placing it on Trunks’s shoulder as he jogged, she gripped the joint with terrifying force and pulled him backward of the machine. Her tremendous strength allowed her to hold him upright until he regained his balance.

“Thank you,” she said, turning him around and releasing him with a pat on the back.

Trunks was about to turn and let her know what he thought, but just the thudding of her feet on the conveyor belt was enough to remind him just how far this woman was out of his league. Instead, he went toward the weight room to find another piece of equipment to use.

It was several minutes later, as Trunks hopped off the bench-press machine, that he saw Gemma for the first time.

“Wow …”

There were plenty of incredibly beautiful women at this gym, but Trunks was damn sure he’d never seen this mysterious brunette before. There were several clumsy clanks from around the room as she entered, her slim body comfortably on display in a two-piece outfit that left very little to the imagination. What was covered by the apparently small amount of available material was hugged so tightly by lycra that she may as well be naked.

Was she coming his way? Oh my, he thought … she is.

“Hello!” she said, greeting him cheerfully.

“Hi.”

“You don’t know me … I’m new here.”

“I suspected as much.”

The woman smiled, and Trunks went a little wobbly in the knees. She really was incredibly beautiful … the allure of her feminine curves was only a distraction compared to the perfect features of her face.

“Suspected what?” she asked cheekily, “That I’m new, or that you don’t know me?”

Having just seen The Hobbit the month before, Trunks knew exactly what to say.

“Both of them, I suppose.”

Her smile grew.

“I’m Gemma.”

She held out her hand, and Trunks took it.

“Trunks.”

“I saw what happened on the treadmill.”

She did? Trunks mused. I didn’t see her in there …

“Yea?”

“What’s the deal with She-Hulk?”

Trunks smiled.

“That was Sharon. ‘Roid freak.”

“Well … what a bitch.”

“Yea. She’s been like that for a long time. We all just try to stay out of her way.”

“Someone should take her down a peg.”

Trunks let out a short laugh.

“People have tried. She’s just too strong for them. No-one here’s in the same league as that woman.”

“Really?”

Not catching the tone in Gemma’s voice, Trunks continued.

“Yea. She’s a pro bodybuilder, but that muscle’s not just for show. You should see her on the leg-press machine. She can do nearly three times her bodyweight … it’s amazing.”

“Three times?”

“Yea … and that’s better than just about anybody.”

Gemma seemed to consider this. “Just about.”

“I wish people could be nicer, and I think she was once. But that stuff she’s been taking, it changed her.”

“Well, with great strength comes responsibility.”

“Um … sure. I guess.”

It was at that point that Sharon entered the scene. Trunks turned to watch the massive woman stride into the room. Each step caused her bulging frame to dance, and she knew there was more than one jealous set of eyes watching her. Her stride spoke volumes of arrogance. When Trunks looked back toward toward Gemma, the gorgeous woman had vanished. He could of sworn that when he started to turn back he had seen her there, right beside him … but by the time his head had completed the spin, she was gone.

For a moment, Trunks was sure he had hallucinated the whole conversation, but when he looked back to where Sharon was walking he found Gemma. She had somehow made her way across the room to the gym’s one and only leg-press machine, and was leaning over it adjusting the setting. By the time Sharon got to the machine, Gemma had done a quick stretch of her supple limbs and was sitting down ready to go. Trunks got himself closer so he could hear what was being said.

“Hey! I just got warmed up ready to use this machine!”

“Really?” Gemma asked, slowly pressing out her lift. “I won’t be here long.”

Sharon only watched for five reps before her patience ran out.

“You’re not doing it right anyway, little girl. Why don’t you let someone use it who knows how?”

Gemma smiled up at the grumpy giant. “Are you offering to teach me?”

“I’m offering you the chance fuck-off.”

“Excuse me?”

Sharon grunted. “I’m sick to death of you stick-thin bimbos, tarting yourselves up in tiny outfits to show the world how weak and vulnerable you are … coming in my gym and wasting my time.”

“Really? You think I’m a tart?”

“I think I could be pumping serious iron. Instead you’re sitting there pumping balloons.” Sharon reached down and pulled out the pin from the weight stack, slipping it into her own desired position. “Why don’t you try a few reps at my level?”

“Can you put that back please? I’m still warming up.”

“Get off my machine.”

“It’s not your machine. I’m a member here too.”

“Let’s get this straight,” Sharon declared, her anger increasing a notch. “This is my gym. Mine.  And every fucking piece of kit in here is mine. And while you’re in my gym, you’re under my roof. And under my roof, bitch, what I say goes. And if I want to use the fucking leg-press, I’ll use the fucking leg-press. And if I want you to fuck off, you’ll fuck off. Got it? Do you? Do you fucking get it?”

“What makes this gym yours?”

Sharon glared down at Gemma with disbelief, and bent her arm to form a genuinely intimidating bicep.

“This does, bimbo.”

“So, just to be sure I got it … because it’s so important that I ‘get it’ … your big biceps make you boss of this gym.”

“That’s right.”

“To put it another way … because your stronger than everybody else, then you’re in charge?”

“That’s it exactly. Because I’m stronger than you. Much, much stronger.”

“But then … if I was stronger than you, would that mean I’m boss?”

Sharon laughed. “In your dreams, shit-stain. Get off my fucking machine!”

“Alright. I get it … I see how things work here.”

“That’s right.”

“Everybody in the gym does whatever the strongest person wants them to do. Even if it’s unfair.”

“Even if anything, bitch.”

“Then I should have come here ages ago!”

“Will you shut up? Just get off the machine, for fuck sake.”

“Alright. I’ll skip my warm up. Just for you. Pay attention: the lesson begins now.”

Then Gemma did something that made everyone watching the exchange gasp in amazement. She extended her smooth sensual legs, slowly and steadily raising the massive stack of weights. Staring into Sharon’s eyes as the large woman watched her complete her first rep, Gemma spoke quietly.

“I think there’s a new boss,” she told the silent behemoth. “Can you tell how easy this is for me?”

Watching little Gemma perform rep after rep with her own max weight, Sharon got a chill when she realised how soft and free of strain the smaller woman’s voice was. It wasn’t right. This … this didn’t make sense.

The whole room watched as Gemma pumped out twenty effortless repetitions, before the slim girl upped her speed and did another fifty.

“That’s not possible.”

Gemma got off the machine.

“Really?”

“You …”

“Steroids rotting you’re brain?” Gemma asked, tilting her head curiously.

“This is a trick.”

“You think so? Is this a trick?”

Gemma stepped up to the much wider woman and gripped her throat with soft gentle fingers. Soft gentle fingers that became a vice, threatening to choke off Sharon’s air supply. Because of the height difference, when Gemma stunned everyone by hoisting Sharon clear from the ground the bodybuilder’s toes dangled a mere inch off the floor.

Sharon reacted the only way she knew how, She lashed out. Her longer arms and legs allowed her to deliver extremely powerful blows, but Sharon quickly found her own hands and feet were the only things getting bruised. She cried out in pain when a right hook rammed mercilessly into Gemma’s delicate cheekbone.

“Ahhhh!”

“You really shouldn’t do that. And you shouldn’t look down on people all the time either. In fact …”

Someone behind Trunks passed out when Gemma defied the laws of gravity and hovered four feet into the air, carefully lowering her arm as she did so until she was looking down at the taller woman while still keeping Sharon’s feet off the ground.

“Why should I be looking up to you?”

People got upset at this point.

“Put her down!”, “What the fuck”, and “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” were the top three responses.

One of the vain few who followed Sharon rushed over to grab at Gemma, trying to pull her down,

“Hey! I know my legs are hot, but what makes think I’m going to let you grope them?”

There was a strange blue pulse that went down the surface of Gemma’s legs, and the bulky man whose hands lay upon her tempting flesh cried out. He fell to the floor beneath her, and spasmed helplessly. The pleasure that rushed through his system was so intense he would be unable to function rationally for several hours.

“If you think you’re the boss of this gym,” Gemma told the flailing Sharon, “then I guess that makes me the god.”

People and any equipment not bolted down were forced back by a sudden release of energy as Gemma’s gym outfit transformed in a bright flash, leaving the super-sexy young woman in an outlandish and equally revealing mini skirt and halter top spun from shining gold thread. Trunks felt his eyes bulge out their sockets as he took in how incredibly sexy Gemma was. How could a woman possibly be so beautiful?

“Please …”

“Huh? What’s that? Too late for manners I’m afraid.”

Gemma looked around.

“You know … now that I’m officially your god, I think this place is going to be needing a few improvements.”

She held up her free hand and clicked her dainty fingers.

Instantly the world around the two women had changed. Not only had the colour scheme altered into a soft pink theme, but the room was now five times larger, and the equipment had been altered. The equipment now looked like something out the gym on the USS Enterprise … and I’m not talking about the sea-going, real-life version. Not only did it all look futuristic, it was massive. The weight stacks were simply huge. Ridiculously so. When she considered their size, Sharon realised why the room had grown so much larger. Only in the back of her mind did she realise she was now alone with this scary brat.

“Much better,” Gemma approved. “Now then … where were we?”

Gemma flicked her wrist, and Sharon sailed toward the far wall. Just before she hit it, she vanished … only to reappear on the leg-press machine. 

“There you go. And since you were so kind as to let me try your weight setting, about you have a go at mine?”

Gemma landed beside the machine. Sharon was sure she felt was the ground briefly shuddering beneath her as she watched Gemma’s sensual legs slowly take up her body weight again.

“There you go.”

The super-hot woman walked around the machine to smile at the petrified Sharon.

“What the hell just happened?”

“Shut up and work out.”

Confused, Sharon pressed her feet into the weight and almost instantly turned beet red with effort. The weight didn’t budge.

“Try again.”

Sharon felt like she had  her feet pressed into the side of a building. There wasn’t the slightest hint of movement.

“Sorry. Looks like you failed. You pussay.” Gemma giggled. “And I lied, by the way. This isn’t my current workout weight.”

Gemma reached out, her eyes staying on Sharon’s face, and placed a finger next to Sharon’s workout boot. The moment she touched her finger to the machine, Sharon felt the pressure come off her feet as the massive weight stack … easily the size of a small house … rose smoothly on it’s rails with a frightening rumble. 

“This is only 100000 tonnes,” Gemma explained with a grin. “Wanna see how much I can really press?” 

Sharon looked wildly about, and made a move for escape. But Gemma’s small hand pulled her back to the seat before she could get more than halfway out of the machine, and she did it with an ease that terrified Sharon. The much bigger woman was clearly a toy in Gemma’s superpowerful hands. A toy she wasn’t particularly fond of …

“Let me go!”

“I want to show you a couple more things. You did call me a tart, remember? And you were very rude to my friend Trunks earlier. What else was it you said? Oh yea. You called me a bitch. And I really don’t like it when people call me names.”

“I’m sorry!”

“I know. But I’m gonna make you just a little bit more sorry.”

Sharon watched as Gemma closed her eyes and altered the world around them once more. The seat and the footrests remained the same as the machine she sat one grew larger, the already imposing polished metallic mass attached to the machine became cartoonlishly huge and the room all around Sharon expanded as each machine was now attached to a similar weight.

Gemma opened her eyes and smiled.

“Why don’t try a real weight?”

Sharon had no intention of attempting it, but found herself straining into the impossible task anyway. She wanted to stop, having had no desire to start in the first place, but for some reason she couldn’t understand right away, she kept going until she nearly gave herself a hernia.

“Now then, why don’t you get off my machine bitch?

Finding herself once more under control of her muscles, Sharon quickly got off the machine and desperately looked around for the door. There was no door …

Gemma slipped into the seat and as soon as her feet touched the machine she ran off rep after rep, her legs hardly showing any strain as the deafening rumble of the weight drained out Sharon’s cry of fear. She could feel the ground quake as the weight moved up and down, and she could see the girl’s sexy legs flexing just enough to sell the fact this was not a parlour trick.

Gemma watched the colour drain from Sharon’s face as she completed fifteen quick reps.

“Well. That’s me warmed up.”

Sharon felt uneasy as the room grew again. When it stopped, Gemma started another set. As the weight rose Sharon covered her ears. The sound overwhelmed her. She could feel it in her very bones. When Gemma finished, she callously allowed the warehouse-sized weight to slam back home. The impact knocked Sharon off her feet. When she rose, Gemma stood before her with her hand on her hips.

“Ready for more?”

“No … I just wanna go home.”

“How about some curls first?”

Sharon just shook her head, but Gemma was the boss now. She walked over to the oversized curling machine and started pumping away.

“Why don’t you do some too?” Gemma asked.

Sharon stood dumbfounded as a regular sized machine popped into existence before her. Strangely, she found herself climbing into it against her will.

“Now then … let’s have us a competition. I’ll pump my max, and you pump your max, and we’ll see who dies first … okay?”

Sharon almost screamed as she found herself curling away. When the burn hit she felt none of the usual pleasure a workout gave her. Beside her, curling twice for each of Sharon’s reps, Gemma grinned at her. It went on until she couldn’t possibly go any further, and then it went on some more anyway.

“It feels good to pump so much weight, knowing that a powderpuff like could never dream of lifting 253,876,657,750 megatons. But look at me go!”

“Please … I can’t …”

“No? Of course not.”

Sharon stopped doing unwanted reps, and slumped in defeat over the machine unable to do anything but pant while Gemma continued to pump her impossible weight.

“This is so easy for me too. I’d never actually do this regularly, by the way. I don’t need to pump silly weights to be a bazillion times stronger and healthier than you. I could keep doing this all day, all week … all of eternity if I wanted. At least, I think so … I mean, it’s been years now and if anything I look younger now. Certainly hotter. It’s like, I haven’t stopped getting stronger and hotter. When I see someone like you I think … why shouldn’t I be like that? Why shouldn’t I use my power to get what I want.”

Gemma stopped curling the impossible weight and regarded Sharon with cold eyes.

“Why don’t you remind me again why you’re boss.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Do it anyway. I can make you … you know that now.”

“Because I’m … stronger.”

Gemma raised her arms in a classic bicep pose. Her arms showed no hint of the power she had just displayed. 

“Want to feel my muscles?” she asked, her tone quite seductive.

“You don’t ha …” Sharon stopped herself.

“I don’t have any? Is that what you were going to say? Of course I do. Feel them.”

Sharon hesitantly reached out a hand and touched Gemma’s arm. Her skin was smooth and warm, and there was something about her texture that electrified Sharon’s libido.

“See how hard I am?”

The surface was soft, but Sharon could make no indent in Gemma’s arms. There was absolutely no give.

“Now show me how hard you are.”

Sharon recoiled. “No.”

“Show me.”

Reluctantly, Sharon mirrored Gemma’s pose. Her massive guns were fully pumped from the curls. Veins rose to the surface and the massive muscles bulged over one another. Normally, people shied away from her powerful physique. Gemma stepped forward, and ran a hand over each bicep.

“Wow. You do have big muscles, don’t you? I bet most people just shit when they you shove those in their face! But … they’re so weak. I mean, you’re a show pony … aren’t you. You look the goods, sure. But you’re muscles aren’t super-duper muscles like mine, are they?” Gemma gave Sharon a little squeeze, eliciting a sharp cry from the bigger woman. Then she reached down and ran a hand over Sharon’s well defined abdominals. “How inefficient. So big and scary looking, but so soft and squishy.”

Sharon was about to say something when Gemma poked her carefully. The air was driven from her lungs and she collapsed to a crouch in order to recover. She looked up to see Gemma had taken a step back.

“Sorry. Do you want to get me back?” Gemma put her hand on her hips and swung her hair over her shoulder with runway grace. “I’ll give as many free shots as you want.”

Sharon shook her head.

“Come on. I feel really bad about bullying you. Hit my stomach.”

“It’s alright …”

“That’s where your dead wrong. Bullying is not alright. It’s never ‘alright’. Now: hit me. I insist.”

To look at her, Gemma was hardly a threatening girl. She was clearly fit … in fact she positively glowed with health … but she didn’t look intimidating. Intimidatingly gorgeous, perhaps. But not intimidating. However, after what Sharon had seen her do, she had never been so fearful of swinging a punch at anyone in her entire life.

“Do it. Or I’ll just make you do it.”

Afraid of losing control over her body again, Sharon half-heartedly landed a right on Gemma’s exposed navel.

“No no. Harder.”

Knowing how much it was going to hurt, Sharon pulled the punch again.

“I warned you.”

Suddenly Sharon delivered a blow much harder than she had ever thrown in her life. The resulting crack and subsequent scream brought a smile to Gemma’s face. 

“And the other one.”

Even as Sharon shook her head her left fist flew hard at Gemma’s gut. Sharon heard the crack  and braced for the agony. As she fell toward a kneeling position she felt Gemma’s delightful yet terrifying touch once more as the incredibly powerful girl grasped her throat once more and easily hoisted her up.

“No matter how big you are … there’s always someone stronger than you, Sharon. Unless you happen to be me. No-one’s stronger than me. But you’re not me are you? You’re you. And you, little girl, are a bully. Aren’t you?”

Sharon didn’t answer until Gemma gave her a careful shake. Then she nodded.

“Well … not anymore. From now on you’re going to be real nice. Because I am now the God of your gym, and if I hear or see you bullying one more person in my gym … or anywhere else … it’ll be time for another lesson. Understand?”

Sharon nodded as best she could.

“No … no, I don’t think you do. You see, you don’t know what the lesson is! The next lesson is much harder. Much, much harder. In fact … no-one’s survived a second lesson. But I have standards, and I’m not lowering them for you wussy norms. What I’m tying to say is, you really don’t want see me again. Do you get it?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good. I sure hope you do. You’re just lucky it’s Christmas, girly. I don’t normally run my classes on a two-lesson plan. Let’s find out if you really learned anything.”

Gemma raised her free hand, and clicked her fingers.

Sharon looked about in confusion. Her arms where healed, but she still felt the burn from that cruel curling contest. The gym had returned to normal, and she was surrounded by people again. She stood in front of the leg-press, with Gemma sitting there looking up at her expectantly.

“Well?” she asked, pleasantly. “Can you please reset that pin? I’m still warming up.”

Sharon looked around. It was as if nothing had happened. Everyone was working out as normal. Had it been a dream?

No.

The burn in her arms was the proof. And she could feel the shadow of those fingers around her neck even now.

“Of course,” Sharon said, decided quickly on a course of action. She reached down and moved the pin back to where Gemma had placed it at the start of her workout.

“Thank you!”

Sharon stood silent a moment as Gemma continued rep after rep.

“Would you like a few tips on technique?” she asked, eventually.

“Really? You think I’m doing this for any other reason than to make you wait?” Gemma grinned. “You think I need to work out to keep this body? Please! I burn more calories than the US armed forces uses in a year just rolling my eyes.”

“Can I …”

“You can leave now, Sharon. But don’t you think you owe someone an apology?”

Sharon looked around at her fellow gym junkies.

“Like … which one?”

“Let’s start with the last guy you manhandled. I don’t think you want to stick around too long today though … I’m can still change my mind about fixing your broken hands.”

Trunks stood there and listened to the brief exchange very closely. It was all going as he expected, and then he felt a strange sensation … a jolt … as if reality were a poorly edited movie. Suddenly Sharon had lost the arrogance from her posture. When she replaced the pin he was stunned. There was another brief exchange that Trunks didn’t quite catch, then he looked away as the bulky Sharon turned toward him.

“Shit.”

She was coming is way. Straight toward him … oh no, he was going to cop it now! He was already on her shit-list today and now he’d been busted staring …

“I’m … uh … I’m sorry.”

Huh?

“About before. You know … um … when I … when I cut in on you at the treadmill.”

Trunks was stunned into silence.

“I mean it,” Sharon assured him. He heard he faintest hint of a wobble in her voice, as though she had just been a car crash or something. “It was rude of me, and I … well … I apologise. I shouldn’t use my greater strength to push people around. It’s not fair. Can I make it up to you?”

“Uh …”

“I’m serious. Anything.”

“Well … it’s … um … it’s alright. I uh … really didn’t mind that much … I … um …”

“Well … if there is something … please … let me know. I’m uh … well. I’ll see you later …”

Trunks stared at Sharon’s powerful back as she walked away. What the hell just happened? Was this a dream?

Poor Trunks nearly fell over in surprise when Gemma spoke from behind him.

“I don’t think … sorry.” She giggled playfully. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Frighten me? What did you do to Sharon?”

“Well … like I was saying, I don’t think she’ll be a problem for anybody anymore. I have a feeling she’ll be much more polite.”

“But you didn’t say anything.”

“I said plenty. Were you eavesdropping?”

Really? Did she just ask him that?

“I ain’t been dropping no eaves … honest.”

Gemma chuckled, and leaned in to give Trunks a peck on the cheek that turned him bright red and nearly made him fall over again.

“Well … believe me. She’s got the message. And I’ve gotta go.”

“Wait … are you going to be coming here a lot?”

“I don’t think so. But maybe, just maybe, you’ll see me around.”

To his great delight, and the delight of everyone else as well in fact, Gemma’s prediction was spot on about Sharon. From that day on, Sharon was a wonderful presence at the gym. She waited like anybody else, and never once said anything mean or broke anyone’s arm. In fact, she became very helpful, offering aide to newbies and the experienced alike. She even taught Trunks how to maximise his lifts, and often spotted for him when he used the old school bench-press.

And Trunks did see Gemma again … but that, well … that is another story.