From Alpha to Beaten
By Beta Man
If not an Alpha male, then what is Rory? Maybe Abby knows


I'd come late to the gym, hoping it would be empty, and it was, except for
her. From a distance she looked like one of those girls who come to the gym
to get some photos for their Instagram page, she wore a figure hugging neon
pink crop top and athletic, white, short shorts. She was exercising on a
punch bag so I made my way to the opposite end where the weights were to be
found. As I did some stretching exercises I could hear her punches
resounding through the gym, it sounded quite punishing, but I attributed
that to the echoey acoustics that an empty gym can create.

I put my headphones on and settled down to apply myself to leg day. As a
rugby player I'm confident about my total strength, but if I had one area
that I was supremely sure of it was my legs, which provide me on the pitch
with, explosive pace, stamina and strength. I started with some leg
extensions, but found myself  unable to move the weight. My first response
was that the machine had broke, but on closer inspection the pin on the
weights had been put at the very bottom. I put it halfway up the weights
which seemed reasonable as a means of easing in to the workout, it offered
resistance but not too much at this early stage.

I finished my first rep, and made my way over to the leg press machinery,
this time however I checked the weights and saw once more that it had been
pinned to the bottom. I assumed it was somebody's idea of a practical joke
or possibly the bodybuilding lunkheads had gone to town on steroids before
working out. I moved the pin halfway up the weights and started to press.
Once done, I got up to go over to the hamstring curl machine, only to see
that the woman had finished on the punchbag and was looking at the
hamstring curl machine.

"Watch out, Somebody's been tampering with the weights,", I shouted,
forgetting that I had my headphones on. She looked surprised but smiled and
gestured I take off my headphones.

"I'm Abby, what brings you here so late?", she asked.

"I guess I just like to do what I want to do  without having to queue or
wait around. Sometimes, this place gets full of people who seem to view it
more as a place to pick up people or photograph themselves looking sexy
while looking at weights. No offence", I said, before I realised quite what
I'd said.

"None taken", she replied, "to be fair, when I saw you taking some weights
off I thought maybe you were just here to take some Instagram photos, not
that I'd blame you, looking as sexy as you do, those shorts certainly show
you off to your advantage".

I could feel myself blush, which was silly, as she was obviously teasing
me, but was also poking fun at herself.

I knew that my sexy remark was both patronising and a little forward,
though looking at her up close, there was no doubt that she was attractive.
She stood around 5' 9" and was a picture of rude health, she  had long,
strong legs, broad shoulders, a flat stomach, and a mesmerising bosom that
I tried not to stare at, but it definitely caught the eye. Along with her
blue eyes, blonde ponytail, and glow of perspiration, she was a picture of
feminine athleticism.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to come across as a jackass", I apologised, "I'm
Rory. You do look attractive but it's clear that you have worked hard to
look....". I could feel myself digging another hole and decided it was best
to stop digging.

"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt as to whether that was a
compliment. Look I find circuit training alone very dull, how about I
follow you, so I'm not in your way, and I've got a target to chase?. Just
stomp once for yes, twice for no".

I stomped once and smiled at her. "Okay, but let me just check the
weights", I said adjusting it to a slightly lighter weight than I would
normally lift.

Abby looked where I had set the weights and then looked at me, "I'm pretty
sure we could both do a little more than that", and moved the pin beyond
where I would normally lift.

I looked from her to the weights, and back to her. Now she was stood so
close, I could see that she carried more muscle than at first glance, but I
thought she might be underestimating the weights.

I positioned myself lying face down, and tried lifting the weights on the
hamstring curl, but found myself unable to move it. My leg remaining
horizontal and motionless.

"I think you may have put too much on it", I said rolling off the
machinery, and moving to lighten it.

"Let's not be hasty, Let's see if I'm luckier", she said positioning
herself on the bench. A little adjustment and she started pumping the
weights. I looked on astonished at how easy she had done it, but as I
looked on I could see just how powerful her muscles were, her thighs, now
pumping, were thick and powerful, while her bottom seemed to have a
repertoire where it rose, then clenched and then released. It seemed like
the practical application of strength combined with the erotic thrill of
controlled power. As she finished her rep of 25 she looked over her
shoulder and smiled at me and the dumbfounded look I had across my face.

I realised that having done 25 reps, her legs must be burning so I chose to
use the adductor machine next, I set the weight how I would normally and my
thighs knocked out  steady 25, before making way for Abby who did a couple
before stopping. I momentarily thought it was too much, her strength lying
in her cals rather than her thighs, but she clearly thought they presented
no challenge, so she set the weight to the maximum and squeezed out the
final 23. The whole time she did this she made a point of staring directly
at me. I found myself both embarassed and aroused, and worse, she knew what
effect she was having on me. It was then that a thought struck me, "Is this
your first circuit?".

"No it's my third. I break them up with ten minutes on the punch bag as a
release", she smiled at me, and waited for me to make the connection.

"So the weights these machines were on were set there by you? You've been
lifting the leg weights I couldn't? You did this knowing you had the
beating of me?"

"Oops", she said, then bit her lip.

"Why would you do that?"

"I like competition, and I wondered if your legs were as strong as they
look, because they do look fine, and I daresay you are proud of them, but
they're no match for mine".

Once more I felt myself blush, at her perception.

"And now you're wondering if it's just in the leg department that I have
the beating of you. Shall we find out?", she smiled.

I felt confident, but there was something about how she looked at me, that
gave me pause for thought.

"Shall we do a barbell challenge? You perform as many curls as you want and
I will match and then exceed that number, which you must then match then
exceed, until one of us gives".

She stood before a 50kg barbell which she picked up and curled ten times,
making it look easy. I then curled the same weight twelve times, all the
while maintaining eye contact.

She then went to 15, and I started to struggle as I went to 18, but then as
she took it to twenty curls she looked to be weakening.

With a masive effort I managed to make that twenty first curl. For the
first time that night she looked a little apprehensive as she started to
curl the barbell. She was no longer maintaining eye contact with me, but
instead focusing intently on the barbell. She had now slowed down, reaching
ten seemed to take every ounce of effort she could muster, but slowly one
by one she reached twenty. I was mentally willing her to concede, when she
looked me in the eye, smiled widely and winked,

"And the Oscar for best actress goes to..." and suddenly she started
curling quickly again reaching fifty in quick time, all the while looking
at me looking at her.

I knew I was beaten but persevered until having to stop at seventeen.

"So now you are embarassed and think that I'm just a muscle bunny who has
developed muscles in the gym, but wouldn't be able to compete on the field
of sports, and that consoles you and your bruised masculinity. Am I right?".

Without thinking I nodded my agreement.

"And you would be a boxer, or a rugby player?"

"Both, though more rugby"

"Okay why don't we play rugby one on one. First to get past the other three
times. You can go first".

I took the ball and decided to go route one. I ran directly at her, but
with a small body swerve and side step that I expected would enable me to
ghost past her, but instead she just stood her ground and knocked me back
on my ass. She smiled as she helped me back up.

Her turn with the ball was even more direct, she ran straight at me, so I
went in low and wrapped my arms around her thighs, but instead of taking
her down, she powered through breaking my hold and leaving me once more on
the ground.

"One -nil, do you want a hand up again?"

I refused her offer, took the ball and decided that this time I would use
my speed to round her and score. Once more I side-stepped her and then
suddenly accelerated as I took the long route around, but I was suddenly
surprised by an arm wrapping around my thigh and slowly dragging me down to
the floor. I tried to power through, surely her arm was no match for my
leg, but it was, and once again I was grounded.

Once she had the ball she powered directly at me again, why change a
successful strategy I guess. This time I decided to tackle her directly low
and hard. There was a physical crunch as we came together, but it barely
slowed her down as she continued running forward with me wrapped round her
thighs, flailing.

"Two - nil, do you want to carry on or concede?"

I took the ball deciding that I would run directly at her with everything I
had, I could see her lower herself to tackle me waist high, her shoulder
powering into my torso, and before I knew it she was lifting me up into a
fireman's lift and carrying me backwards. I felt defeated and humiliated,
even more so when she lifted me up above her head.

There she gave me an ultimatum, either I strip naked and worship her
muscular body, or she would put on the boxing gloves, whupp my sorry ass,
then strip me naked and have me worship her muscular body. I guess it came
to how much I valued my manhood over a beating.

"Why are you doing this?", I cried.

"Nothing gives me more pleasure than taking an alpha male and turning him
into a beaten boy", she lowered me to the ground, "so do we need to box?"

The last vestige of my male pride knew that I would not surrender without a
fight. She looked delighted at the prospect.

A few moments later we stood facing each other. The break had allowed me to
get my bearings back and I stood looking admiringly at the woman in front
of me. If I hadn't had my ass handed to me a number of times already, I
would have been supremely confident that I was about to administer a boxing
lesson, but time had taught me to expect the worst.

She came towards me and we touched gloves. Even after the beatings she had
given me, I was reticent about hitting a woman. She did not share my
reticence, and went straight for me with a barrage of blows that had me
reeling. I tried to block her punches and weather the storm, but I was only
stopping half the shots, and each one that came through hurt like hell.
With no need to worry about defending herself, she could throw punches at
will.

I tried to grab hold of her to stop her hitting me, if only for a few
seconds, but she broke my hold and threw in a hook and a jab for good
measure. I could feel my legs give way and I fell towards her, she stood
aside and watched me crash to the floor. I lay there wondering what would
be the wisest move for me, when I was surprised to find her straddling me
and pinning my shoulders to the floor with her knees
.

"Let's make this simple. You are beaten", she punched me twice to emphasise
the point, they both stung. "I could let you get up, but frankly you are
less challenging than a punch bag, so let's bring this to a swift
conclusion. Let me know when you submit and are ready to strip and worship
me, and I will stop doing this", at which point she started punching my
face which hurt like hell. The last time I had been bullied like this was a
long time ago in my childhood, and I found myself both helpless and crying.

"Please stop", I cried. And she did. She stood up, and placed her foot on
my chest in a victory pose.

"Now strip", she ordered me. I threw off the gloves and slowly began to
undress. Once I was lying naked on the floor she reverse straddled my head,
her sweet muscular ass covered my face so I couldn't see and I had a little
difficulty breathing.

"I want you to keep your eyes closed and just use your sense of touch to
appreciate the body that has defeated you",she said, before adding with a
little laugh, "though I see there's one part of you offering a little
resistance".

With everything else I was feeling I was unsure if I was blushing or
asphyxiating, but I was momentarily aware of just how aroused I was
becoming with her domination of me. As I reached up to caress her toned
buttocks I was surprised by just how rock hard they were, and even more so,
by how I liked that.

"I can see by how you are twitching down there that you approve", she said.
I ran my hands down over thighs and again found myself thrilled by the
touch. I suddenly started to worry that I might ejaculate with the
excitement.

"To fully appreciate my thighs I think I should change position, and with
that she turned around and put me in a forward headscissors. As I placed my
hands upon her thighs she began to softly squeeze my head, all the time
maintaining eye contact. Her muscles tensed and I could feel myself coming
behind her back. I looked ecstatic but felt mortified, more so, when I saw
the bemused look on her face.

"We might come back to that", she said getting up off me and reaching down
to get a grip on my hair, she then pulled me swiftly across the floor. I
had to scurry to keep up. She had me lie on a weights bench, there she
straddled me once more between her thighs, and encouraged me to feel her
stomach muscles. I obeyed her willingly. She squeezed me. I felt myself
harden again. "Good boy", she said before squeezing me hard enough to have
me pass out.

When I came around she had taken her top off and was now wearing the
skimpiest of bikini tops. She pulled me up off the bench and in to a
headlock, I felt her biceps flex as she tightened her grip I tried tapping
out, and she said she would stop if I kissed 'her guns'. I knew it was a
request designed to humiliate me but at that point I wanted nothing more
than to kiss her fabulous biceps. I wanted to kiss and worship her all
over. Any thoughts I may have had that I could compete with her were gone.
I wanted to feel her muscles flex, to see her pecs bounce, to touch and to
be touched by any and all of her. But as soon as it had begun it stopped,
it might have been I was too keen to worship her, I was no longer a
competitor to defeat, but instead a house trained puppy just happy to obey.
The sport for her had gone, she was the complete victor.

She put me once more in a reverse headscissor and she began to squeeze in a
now familiar manner.

"So beaten boy, be sure not to come back so late at night, or you know how
you'll be humiliated and dominated", she said issuing me with a warning,
but just as I was about to pass out, it sounded to my ears like a promise