by Alexis Angel
And then I come to a hand-written letter with no return address.
It’s a peculiar little envelope. The base color is an off white, and there’s a lace pattern embossed into the paper. I quickly flip it over and peel the adhesive away.
I’d believe it was a mystery, but considering my history with strange, unmarked envelopes…I can take a fucking guess.
Inside, I find a small, hand-written letter from none other than Evian Sprague, my former bitch of a boss at Gilded Lily.
These fucking bullying tactics are getting really old. All of her letters say the same thing in different words. As usual, she’s upset that I bounced back from being at the bottom when I got fired.
Also enclosed with the letter is a photoshopped picture of me. The selfie I posted yesterday, at that. I’m painted up to be over three hundred pounds again, and with a chocolate sauce mustache to boot.
I wonder if she could be any more passive-aggressive and any less original. I roll my eyes as I toss her little love note into the trash with the rest of the junk.
I give Lucy a short scratch under her chin before heading out the door. I lock the deadbolt on my way out, and head down the stairs, which is a much easier task tonight than it was yesterday. Phew.
I start to feel my stomach churning as I get to my car. With everything that happened yesterday, I should be nervous right now.
But I’m not. I have butterflies because I’m so fucking excited to be at the gym with Chase and Eric again.
I didn’t exchange numbers with either of them, so I’ve had no communication at all since I left Power Plus. Flashes of our shower roll through my head as I’m driving up to the building.
God, I’m not even at the gym yet, and I’m already sweating.
As I get out of my car, I grab my gym bag and make my way through the doors.
With each step, I notice I’m more and more slippery fucking wet between the legs just waiting to see the two of them.
I need to get it together.
These guys are hot. They’re uninhibited. They’ve got the muscles of a Greek sculpture and they’re hardly fucking shy about showing them off.
They probably fuck women in that shower together all the fucking time. I need to stop being so fucking obsessed over them—especially since I don’t even know what this is yet.
I feel like Pavlov’s dog, only instead of food and a bell, as soon as I enter the gym, I’m pooling in my panties. I’m not complaining whatsoever; it’s one hell of a motivator, if nothing else.
In my line of vision as soon as I walk in are Chase and Eric. I see Chase flash me an eager, sexy smile.
…mmm. That grin could hypnotize me into doing anything and everything for him. It’s fucking dangerous, a smile like that.
“Well well well,” Chase speaks up. “Look who made it in today.”
“Couldn’t stay away,” I respond. “I’m a gym addict now.”
“I wasn’t actually expecting to see you. Neither of us were, really,” continues Chase. “We gave you a run for your money yesterday. I wouldn’t have been surprised if you decided to stay home on the couch and ice those pretty thighs of yours.”
“My thighs aren’t all that needy of ice after all,” I tease. “Somehow, I’m not surprised to see you here, though. I have it in my head that you two just don’t ever leave.”
“You’re not exactly wrong.”
He’s looking even fucking hotter today. His hair is pushed back, with just the perfect amount of sweat beading across his forehead.
“Well then, I guess I always know where I can find you,” I playfully respond, in the subtlest sultry voice I can manifest.
I can see in the green of his eyes that he’s excited to see me again. I might be his Pavlov, because he’s salivating enough to have to swallow multiple times in our brief exchange.
He swallows again before he says something undoubtedly clever and charming back to me, but before he can, I feel big, strong hands at my waist.
Eric comes up behind me and lifts me right off the ground, effortlessly moving me out of the way. I yelp, and he quickly places me back to the floor, facing him.
“Hey there, beautiful,” he says, greeting me.
“Hello yourself, stranger,” I reply, grinning at him. He flashes me a smile, showing off those pearly white, perfectly straight teeth.
I admire the features of his face, giving him a seductive smile as I marvel to myself about how he just lifted me like I weighed nothing at all. It’s still ingrained in my brain to assume that someone that can pick me up has superhuman strength.
But then I realize I’m honestly a reasonable weight for anyone in here with experience to lift up like that now. For so long, no one would. No one could.
But now I’m suddenly a feather. It’s a really good thing.
Hell, with guns like that, he probably could have lifted me just the same at my previous weight.
“Here for a while, hot stuff?” Eric tilts his chin up in that cocky way I’ve noticed he does. He says it like he knows that he’s the kind of guy who can easily get away with calling women shit like that: hot stuff.
Admittedly, I blocked out my whole afternoon for this, but I wasn’t planning on being here long…unless another drool-worthy opportunity presented itself, of course.
My workout today won’t be quite so…intensive. I’m smiling, but my muscles are still so fucking sore from yesterday that I could cry attempting half of what we did on the equipment.
What we did in the shower, however, I’d absolutely be up for all over again. My limbs might be stiff and sore, but my pussy would be more than happy to go another round. They wouldn’t have to ask me twice.
“I don’t have much else going on today, actually. But I’m hoping to take it a little easier than before,” I explain.
“Oh, of course. I wouldn’t expect you to go half as hard as yesterday,” says Eric. A choir of angels sings a Hallelujah in the back of my mind as he speaks. “But since you’re here…”
“Big plans?” I ask, licking my lips like the greedy bitch I am.
“There’s something I want to show you upstairs. If you’re interested, of course,” answers Eric. Chase is standing next to him now, his arms crossed.
They’re both smiling at me. Their devilishly handsome looks and the sexual tension they’ve created already have my panties fucking drenched.
“What is it?” I ask. My hip is tilted to the side and my hand is clenching my gym bag. I’m playing coy with them, but my body language is betraying me with my every fucking move.
Fuck me, my body is broadcasting to them. Fuck me again like you did yesterday. I’m an addict now—gimme that cock, for fuck’s sake!
“It’s a bit of a surprise,” Eric replies, playing coy right back at me. God dammit. And all his body is broadcasting back to me is that he’s fucking sexy as ever, and I need to jump his bones ASAP.
“Is it your cock?” I ask, ditching the coy thing for a bolder approach. I stare right at his groin immediately after.
I swear, I can see the outline of their gorgeous dicks every time I allow myself to look. God bless whoever invented men’s gym shorts.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he says as he smirks and winks at me.
“You have no idea,” I say back.
“We have some idea.” Chase dips his lips to my ear and whispers the words. “If you lick your lips one more fucking time, I’m going to find a better use for that tongue.”
“Ladies first.” Eric motions me to start up the stairs.
Part of me wonders if he’s having me lead out of chivalry, or if he just wanted a good look at my ass as I climb the staircase. Either way, I’m cool with it.
Let him look.
Chase
It’s a good fucking plan.
Transforming Kara into the perfect fitness model, utilizing her already massive fanbase, and doing it all on a globally aired competition is fucking genius. I almost wish I had come up with it myself.<
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For one thing, Kara is fucking hot. Any brand would be lucky as hell to have her running around in their merch.
For another, drawing Kara a little closer to the operation just means that she’ll be close at hand the next time I want those pretty lips of hers wrapped around my dick.
It ain’t just that, either. Eric showed me her weight loss journey pics. As long as our cocks aren’t concerned, this girl has the willpower of a saint.
Not many people can do what she’s done, and from the looks of things, she only did it for herself. A girl like her doesn’t need to be thin to pull dick. I would have tapped that fine ass of hers regardless of what she weighed—but damn if she doesn’t look fine as fuck in those tights she’s wearing today.
If she puts her head in this, and if she really believes she can do it, then we’re fucking winners—all three of us. An international competition in the bag.
I bring my attention to the TV in Eric’s office, where we’re about to show her the Miss Sexy Universe competition. We need to give her an idea of what she’ll be doing if she accepts this gig.
The lights are dimmed, and it's just the three of us in here. I’m backed against the door, arms crossed, ready to read Kara’s reactions to the competition.
The video from last year starts playing, and all of the competitors from around the world are doing their initial walk down the runway. The contestants are fully nude, oiled, and toned. Blown-out hair, classy make-up, and stiletto heels—the works.
I start to imagine Kara’s body out there in the mix. She’d stand out in a dark room; up on stage with a bunch of other gorgeous naked women, she’d have the crowd eating out of her hand in an instant. Every contestant is the finest piece of ass in her country, but Kara has something that none of the rest of them do: personality.
She knows the confident strut of a model. She can gain the muscle. And she has that raw animal magnetism that catches the eye of every man in her path.
But Miss Sexy Universe isn’t just about looking good naked. Kara’s fucking smart, man. I don’t even think she realizes it sometimes, but she’s as sharp as the Bowie knife I keep beneath my pillow at night—just in case any of my old mob connections are looking to reconnect, of course.
I look over to Kara’s face. She’s enamored. I can see it. As they make their way downstage, it looks like the contestants are about to walk right off screen and into the office with us.
Her cunt’s getting wet just imagining she’s a part of this. Letting an entire worldwide audience study and admire her gorgeous figure, leaving nothing to the imagination.
Eric is watching her, too. He smirks as her mouth forms a soft little blowjob-ready O.
We’ve already got her. We fucking know we do. It’s just a matter of convincing her that it’s true.
“This was last year’s Miss Sexy Universe competition,” says Eric. “Women from each participating country came together for the final showdown and an international winner was chosen.”
“Oh, I know what it is,” Kara says, nodding. “It’s televised worldwide. Everyone watches it—whether they admit it or not.”
“Good. Then you know how the different phases work and what the judges expect of the competitors,” he comments. “What do you think of it all?”
“Well, it’s entertaining. And when it’s on, you can hardly force yourself to look away,” she answers. “What I’m wondering is…why are you showing it to me now? What are you two getting at?”
“You, Kara,” Eric says.
The look on Kara’s face reads as confused, but I can see the way her nipples harden beneath her sports bra when he says it. Even if she doesn’t want to accept it in her head yet—that hot little body of hers already knows what we want her to do.
“You’re gonna have to spell it out for me,” Kara says, crossing her arms. She plays it off as getting bitchy with us, but I think she’s realized it, too: her nipples are so fucking hard, they’re threatening to pierce the fabric of her tight little tank top.
“We want you to compete in the pageant,” Eric reveals. “We’ll sponsor you with the Protein Plus brand. We’ll train you to be a part of this. It’ll be hard work, but you’re a fucking winner. We know you’ll succeed.”
Kara laughs nervously. “You guys are hilarious. The women up there…” She glances at the screen again, where the Miss Sexy Russia contestant is squatting a huge amount of weight. The camera pans in on her pussy—dripping fucking wet. “I’m not strong like that. I mean, look at me.”
Kara holds up her arms like she’s going to flex her biceps for us. She’s right. They’re barely there—but we can fix that.
“We have been looking at you, Kara,” Eric says, coming around behind her to take her biceps in his hands.
“Been looking at you a whole fucking lot,” I agree.
“And I like that,” she says, closing her eyes as Eric’s thumbs rub up and down the lengths of her biceps. It’s like she’s holding her breath until, finally, he releases her and backs off again. “Really, I do. It’s just…”
She starts fidgeting with her hair, pulling it back into a ponytail and letting it go. She does it three times―all of them unsuccessful. She’s nervous.
She’s fucking hot when she’s nervous. Makes me want to push her down on the floor and lick her cunt until she’s begging to be allowed to compete for us. But Eric says we need to do this properly. Not let our dicks get in the way.
It’s not easy.
We’ve got pretty big dicks.
“You’re a model, Kara,” Eric says, shifting gears. “We’ve done the research—we’ve seen your pictures. You were fucking good at it, too.”
“Too good,” I say, swaggering forward. We’re closing in on her now. Circling her like fucking sharks. “A body like yours needs to be put to work.”
“Remember the drink you tried yesterday? Two Girls One Cupcake? That was from our line,” I add.
“Right. And it was―okay, it was fucking good.” she admits. Her face still shows hints of trepidation. “I’m sure you’ll have a lot of success with it. But I’m a failed model, guys. I don’t know where you’ve been snooping around about me at all, but if you did it properly, I’m sure you discovered that I lost my contract.”
“Which was a fucking mistake.”
“Any idiot can take one look at you and see that,” I agree.
“Here,” Eric says, reaching into his mini fridge and pulling out a shake. He tosses it to her and she catches it. “Try that and tell me you don’t fucking love it.”
“Sin-ammon?” she asks, reading the label. She shrugs her shoulders and giggles playfully. “Clever.” She twists the cap and sniffs it, much like she did with the cupcake flavor.
“We’re clever men,” Eric agrees. “I think you’ve realized that by now.”
Kara’s eyes widen as she swishes the drink around in her mouth, tasting every note. Judging by the look on her face, she’s either just fallen in love or just creamed herself.
“Okay, this is fucking delicious,” she admits. “Protein shakes aren’t supposed to taste this good, though—what the fuck is in it?”
Eric and I exchange looks. Do we tell her?
If she read the label a little more closely, she would be able to make a logical guess.
The words are right there, and she’s already tasted our secret ingredient fresh from the source.
“If you want me to promote it, I need to know what’s inside,” Kara insists.
I fucking love when she gets all bossy like this. Gorgeous. Makes me want to put her in her place—on her fucking knees, sucking all that secret ingredient out of my balls like the slut she is.
With a big smile on his face, Eric admits it.
“Cum.”
“Cum?!” Kara holds the shake at arm’s length, her blue eyes as wide as can be. “You’re fucking kidding me!”
“Our cum, specifically,” I add. “Don’t act like you don’t like it.”
She narrows her
eyes with suspicion, trying to decide whether we’re fucking with her or not.
Then she stares us dead in the eyes, and to my fucking delight, takes a second taste of the shake. She gulps it down deliberately, savoring every fucking drop. Her reaction makes me think she likes it even more now that she lets on.
“Better than mung beans,” she finally admits, licking the final drops off her lips. “This is all lab-tested, safe for consumption, right?”
“No adverse effects yet,” Eric reassures her. “Final rounds of testing should wrap up in the next month or so.”
Kara continues sipping and savoring the taste of the protein shake. There’s no denying that she loves it. And it’s fucking hot watching her drink cum.
Damn. I’m just glad we got to this girl before some other bastard beat us to her.
What a perfect fucking slut.
“Kara,” Eric starts. “This could be the beginning of a beautiful business relationship for us.”
“I’m listening. Go on,” she says as she takes another sip and subsequently licks it off of her lips. It’s like she’s getting more and more obsessed with each swallow.
By the time that bottle is empty, I have no doubt that she’ll be wanting more.
“You’ve seen the pageant. You know what the winners get: a one-million dollar modeling contract with Sexy Universe. They train the hottest porn stars in the business—not to mention all those good girl actresses trying to make the world take them seriously by shooting nude scenes. Your body will be forever synonymous with fitness and fuckability.”
“Don’t even pretend you don’t like the sound of that,” I add. “I can smell how wet you are from here.”
“Is that so?” she asks in her sexy, sultry, alpha femme voice.
Christ. Gets me hard just hearing her talk. Reminds me how bad I want to make her moan.
“And joining our venture means you’ll spend a lot more time with us,” I add with a nod and a wink.
“Not to mention as much Protein Plus as you can drink,” Eric adds.
Kara finishes the shake, tipping the bottle high in the air to get the last drops. She puts the empty bottle down on Eric’s desk—drained to the last drop.