The Bimbo Trainer (Patreon)

Thursday evening, like any other day of the week, as always filled the "Iron Atlas" sports club with a large number of people who had finished their office workday and were now trying to get rid of the stress accumulated throughout the week under the hum of working machines, rhythmic music from the speakers, and the constant clanging of metal plates falling onto racks.

For most visitors, it was an ordinary evening. Some came for results, some out of habit, and some simply wanted to spend time among people who, just like them, enjoyed the feeling of strength and control over their own bodies.

But for the club's former head trainer, Dan Walker, this evening had stopped being ordinary several minutes ago.

He stood in front of the large mirror near the dumbbell area, but he was not looking at his muscles like he used to, instead he was staring at the reflection of a girl in bright pink sportswear that he still couldn't accept as real.

Long blonde hair was tied into two high ponytails, large hoop earrings slightly swayed with every movement of her head, and the plump lips that he could now feel far too clearly added to the stunned face he saw in the reflection, which for some reason looked almost too natural in this appearance.

His palms, placed over his chest, clearly felt the soft and rather heavy flesh pressed against by the sports bra, having a tendency to remind him of itself with every breath or even the simplest movement of his shoulders.

"This... This is impossible," he said, but instead of that, what came out of his mouth was:

"Likeee... uhhh... whaaaat..."

Dan froze, as if he himself couldn't believe what he had just heard, and at that moment he noticed a guy walking past, dressed in the uniform of the club's head trainer, HIS uniform, shamelessly staring at him. And not just at him, but at his ass. A heavy, huge ass, tightly wrapped in shiny pink leggings that literally dug into every curve, leaving almost nothing for imagination to do. A small rhinestone butterfly sparkled on the waistband of the leggings, and the guy's gaze had clearly caught on it before sliding lower again.

Dan wanted to snap something like, "Hey, what the fuck are you staring at, asshole? Get the hell out of here," but instead, what escaped his mouth was a soft, almost playful:

"Ohiiie... likeee... why are you looking at me like that?.. Go away, because I’m like, super embarrassed..."

He said it, feeling his smile stretching across his face on its own, but a few seconds later, when he realized he had been looking at this stranger longer than he should have, everything inside him exploded with horror.

"No. No, no, no. What did I just do?" ran through his head as he struggled to force his face back into the old, more familiar, stern expression.

With difficulty, but he managed.

"That’s that bitch! This is all because of her," Dan suddenly realized, and the face of that very girl immediately appeared in his mind, the bitch who had filed a harassment complaint against him and whom he later took revenge on, using his connections, so that soon access to all "Iron Atlas" clubs, the largest fitness center chain in the city, had been closed to her.

"Likeee... that's her... oh my goshhh, it’s really her!"

Bursting out spontaneously, Dan didn't even notice he had said it aloud, his mind too occupied with the sudden flash of memories that mixed together and refused to form a normal picture.

Fragments of their interactions in the gym kept surfacing in his mind, his usual flirting, how proud he had been when he threw her out, but they immediately mixed with other thoughts that, for some reason, seemed even more important in that moment:

'My ass is the best one in this gym.'

'I wonder how much I weigh right now? I should probably check...'

'I wonder if he always looks at girls like that or only at me?'

'No. No, that doesn't matter. I don't care at all...'

'Although... he is kinda cute...'

And so on endlessly. All of it together made it impossible not just to make some kind of plan, it made it impossible to think. His thoughts didn't move in a straight line, they jumped one after another, grabbing onto random little things and immediately losing meaning. His mind was now filled with some endless mess of fragments of thoughts, emotions, and completely ridiculous desires that he himself considered impossible.

"Um... like... pull yourself together, baby, you're the smartest girl here. Just pull yourself together, okaaay?"

He whispered it while looking at his reflection in the mirror, and immediately grimaced at how sweet and stupid his own voice sounded. It took him several seconds to realize that he had just called himself a smart girl and was talking like some kind of dumb bimbo.

'Baby? Smart girl? Are you serious right now, Dan?'

He clenched his fists, but instead of the anger that used to flare up instantly and make him act, there was only some kind of irritated confusion, as if his brain first needed a few seconds to decide what emotion it should even choose.

"Oh, come on..." he muttered quietly, noticing his reflection from the corner of his eye as he turned sideways. "I was like, supposed to have already figured out the plan, right?"

'No, well, the leggings actually fit really well. I wonder if that guy is still looking at me...'

A strange hot wave rolled through him, making his toes curl inside his white sneakers on their own, while his hands squeezed his already heavy breasts harder. Several thoughts immediately flashed through his mind, and none of them wanted to give way to the others: 'Wait, they're all looking at my ass...', 'The leggings really do fit perfectly...', 'I need to leave right now...', 'What if Mark comes closer...'.

He wanted to turn around sharply and yell, "Stop staring, idiots," but instead his plump lips formed into an uncertain half-smile on their own, and all that came out was:

"Ohiiie... likeee... why are you all looking at me like that?.. I’m... uhhh... embarrassed..."