The Sauna Goddess (Patreon)

I push through the doors of IronPulse Gym, the familiar scent of rubber mats and sweat greeting me as I sling my duffel bag over my shoulder. It’s late—9 p.m.—and the gym is quiet, just a few late-night lifters clanging weights in the distance. I’ve been coming here for months, but it’s not the workouts that keep me showing up at this hour. It’s her. The woman in the sauna. The one I can’t get out of my head, no matter how hard I try.

I rush through my routine—a quick set on the bench press, barely focusing, my mind already racing—and head straight for the sauna. My heart pounds as I push open the wooden door, the heat washing over me like a wave, and there she is, sitting in the corner like a queen commanding her court. She’s in a red bikini, the fabric stretched tight over her massive chest, her abs a chiseled wall of muscle glistening with sweat. Her thighs are thicker than my torso, rippling with power, and her arms are slabs of muscle that could lift me without breaking a sweat. Her curly hair fans out around her, framing her like a crown, and I can barely breathe.

She glances at me, her dark eyes sharp and unreadable, and I mutter a quick “Hey” before slinking to the opposite bench. I’m average—5’10”, decent build—but next to her, I feel invisible. She’s got to be over seven feet tall when she stands, a towering goddess of strength, and I’ve seen her lift weights that’d make pros quake. I’ve watched her squat racks loaded with plates, her muscles flexing, veins popping, while I struggled with half her warm-up weight. Here in the sauna, though, it’s just us, the heat, and my runaway thoughts.

I steal glances at her, trying to be discreet, but I’m terrible at it. Her skin shines, sweat tracing paths down her collarbone, her chest rising with every breath. I can’t stop imagining what it’d be like if she stood up right now, took control of this tiny space, and made me hers. In my daydream, she rises from the hot tub she’s soaking in, water cascading down her sculpted body, and strides over to me, the wooden floor creaking under her weight. Her shadow swallows me whole, and I’m frozen, helpless, as she looms over me, her presence overwhelming.

“You staring at me, little man?” she’d say in my fantasy, her voice low and commanding, a smirk playing on her lips. I’d stammer, my face burning hotter than the sauna, but she’d just laugh—a deep, resonant sound that makes my knees weak. “You think you’re worthy of this?” she’d ask, flexing her arm, her bicep swelling to the size of my head. I’d shake my head, knowing I’m nothing compared to her, and she’d step closer, her muscles rippling, her strength a force I can’t resist.

In my mind, she takes control, her hands—big enough to dwarf mine—grabbing my shoulders and pinning me against the wall with ease. “You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” she’d whisper, her breath warm against my ear, and I’d nod, desperate to prove myself. I’d imagine kneeling before her, looking up at her towering form, her body a temple of power I’d worship if she let me. “Bow to me,” she’d command, and I’d obey instantly, my head lowered, my hands trembling with the need to be near her, to serve her, to be in her orbit.

Back in reality, I snap out of it, my face flushed, my heart racing. She’s still there, leaning back against the wall, her arms resting on the edge of the hot tub, her muscles relaxed but still intimidating. She hasn’t said a word, but I swear she can feel my thoughts. I’ve seen her here almost every night for weeks, always in this sauna after her workout, sometimes soaking in the hot tub like tonight, her red bikini a signal I can’t ignore. I’ve never had the courage to speak to her beyond a nod or a mumbled greeting, but I’m captivated. I’d do anything to be close to her, to feel the aura of her power up close.

In my daydreams, she stands again, water dripping down her thighs as she steps out of the tub, her movements slow and deliberate. She’d walk over, tilting my chin up with one finger, forcing me to meet her gaze. “You want to be mine, don’t you?” she’d say, her voice a velvet command, and I’d nod again, lost in her eyes. She’d laugh, letting me go, and tell me to follow her. I’d trail behind her like a shadow, watching her muscles shift as she moves, her back a canvas of strength, her presence a magnet I can’t resist.

She’d lead me to the gym floor, empty at this hour, and make me watch as she lifts—hundreds of pounds, her body a machine, her grunts of effort making my chest tight. “This is power,” she’d say, dropping the bar with a clang, and I’d kneel again, awestruck, begging to be near her, to be part of her world, even just for a moment. She’d look down at me, her gaze piercing, and maybe—just maybe—she’d let me stay there, under her command, a devotee to her strength.

The sauna door creaks open, snapping me out of my thoughts, and some guy walks in, breaking the spell. She doesn’t even glance at him—just closes her eyes, soaking in the heat, while I sit there, aching with admiration. I’ll be back tomorrow night, same time, same place, hoping for another glimpse of her, dreaming of the day she might notice me, might let me prove my devotion. Until then, I’m just another guy at the gym, lost in the shadow of a goddess I’d do anything to worship.