Motivation
By Montrose
A physical trainer ensures that her student will do his work

Bari read through the ad once more. "Help Wanted: physical trainer, female, mid-twenties, strong, open 
to creative methods. The right candidate should be able to start immediately." She wasn't sure what 
"creative methods" meant, but her student loans needed paying immediately, so she was ready. Her 
masters in physical education wasn't finding her work. Schools were cutting back. She was hopeful that 
being 21 wouldn't be too young. As for strong? She had that nailed. At six feet one and 180 pounds of 
firm girl, she didn't think many candidates would beat her out on that count. She fixed her bob-cut 
blonde hair one last time and rang the bell. 

Bari took in her surroundings while she waited for the door to be answered. Long secluded drive. Tall 
brick house. Expensive landscaping. Whoever lived here paid for the best. Her stomach clutched a bit 
with doubt. The door opened, startling her.

The man on the other side of the door looked up at her and smiled, his eyes happy, putting Bari at ease. 
"May I help you?" he asked in a friendly voice.

"I'm Bari Pagano. I'm a few minutes early for a ten o'clock job interview."

The man's smile grew bigger as he opened the door wide. "Miss Pagano! Yes! I'm so glad you could 
make it. Please come in."

She stepped onto marble flooring into a richly decorated entryway.

"I'm Stephen Sanders," the man continued. He was salt and pepper gray, stood six feet tall with a slight 
paunch. Bari guessed him to weight about 190 pounds. "I'm the one who placed the ad. I have a 
workout room just down the hall. Would you mind if we conducted the interview there?"

"Whatever you say, Mr. Sanders." She strode behind him on long legs. She couldn't help notice what a 
good mood the old man was in - was he 50 maybe? 55? He kept looking back at her and smiling. 
Because he slouched and she was wearing three inch heels, he had to look way up at her. Bari never 
slouched. She liked being tall. 

Mr. Sanders escorted her to a large room, placing his hand on the small of her back as he led her into 
the space. Were his fingers running up and down her toned back muscles? Bari didn't mind. The room 
was well equipped with weight machines and free weights, as well as matts on the floor and punching 
bags - even a kitchenette in one corner. "Nice," she said as she took it all in.

"Thank you, Miss Pagano. I'm so glad you like it." Mr. Sanders pulled out a chair for her at a small table 
in the kitchenette. Bubbling mineral waters with lemon waited for them. She sat and Mr. Sanders took 
his own chair.

"You move gracefully, Miss." He raised his glass. "That's a good sign."

"Thank you again." Bari was beginning to like this polite man. He was obviously rolling in money, but 
treating her quite well - doting she might say. She thanked her stars once more for her hourglass figure 
and pleasant features. Physical power would only get you so far. "I believe you have my resume, Sir." 
She sipped her water. "What more would you like to know?"

"That is the question, isn't it." Mr. Sanders replied. "First, I need to be assured that you are as powerful 
as you appear. I want my trainer to be commanding in her strength. D-d-dominating."

Bari smiled, noting the cute stutter, and raised one arm, flexing. "That will not be an issue." Her 
sleeveless blouse provided a clear view of her muscle. She noticed that Mr. Sanders turned pink 
watching her bicep expand. She flexed harder and watched him gasp. This was going well. So she raised 
her other arm, pumping them in an alternating pattern.

"Oh my god," he whispered, watching both arms, his head zipping back and forth. "Amazing."

Bari giggled. "Satisfied or do we need to arm wrestle?"

Mr. Sanders pushed their glasses to one side. "I would be honored, Miss!" With that, he put his right 
arm up for the challenge.

Bari giggled again. "I was joking."

"Would you mind?" Mr. Sanders asked. "This kind of leads into my desire for creative methods."

"Ah." She had met men like this before. Bari settled in, knowing she had the job already. "Just don't hold 
it against me if you get hurt."

Mr. Sanders counted down from three and then pushed into Bari's palm. She was stunned at how weak 
he was. "My oh my," she said as she held her hand up even. "You're going to need a lot of work to get in 
shape."

Mr. Sanders grunted in reply and turned red in the face, pushing for all he was worth.

So as not to hurt him, Bari lowered his hand slowly. Halfway down, she paused to sip from her water. 
Finally she tapped his knuckles gently on the table.

Panting and smiling Mr. Sanders rubbed his arm. "Amazing. Truly amazing!"

Bari only nodded in reply. No need to push it now. She had him.

Mr. Sanders took a big drink of water. He looked to be getting a bit nervous. "Now, about the job. Yes. 
You see, it's physical training, certainly. But, well, I've never been able to keep at it. I don't find it fun. 
But I thought..." His eyes flashed up at her and he blushed a bit.

"Please go on," Bari encouraged him. It was cute how shy he was about what he wanted so badly.

"I thought if I got to wrestle with a d-d-dominating young w-w-woman..." his voice trailed off.

Bari smiled. "Just how DOMINATING would you like this woman to be?" she asked, hitting the "D" word 
hard, leaning toward him. "Shall I only force you to perform your exercises, or shall I HUMILIATE and 
DESTROY you for not living up to my standards?"

Mr. Sanders wiped his brow with a delicate handkerchief. "The job is yours, Miss. I think you have the 
spirit of it in mind. As for money, I had planned on paying $50 an hour plus gratuities, but if that doesn't 
meet your needs..."

Bari crossed her arms and remained silent, staring down at Mr. Sanders. She decided to let him sweat. 

"Uh... $75 an hour then?" He dropped to his knees. "Please Miss! Just name your price."

"$200 an hour, plus gratuities." She said. 

"Done!"

"And if I'm not satisfied with the gratuities, there will be hell to pay."

"Yes, Miss. When can you start?"

Bari grabbed the man by his collar and stood, lifting him to his feet. "Right now." She threw him over to 
the mats where he landed on all fours. As she strolled over, she kicked off her shoes and pulled her 
blouse up over her head. She popped her bra and tossed it freeing her rollicking rack. She was glad she 
had not worn pantyhose and had opted for bare legs. Bari unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it. Now, 
only in tight panties, she approached her prey.

Mr. Sanders was getting to his feet as she reached him. She picked him up sideways and fell forward, 
smashing his back onto the mat. Taking her time, she sat up on his face, looking down over his squirming 
body, his arms under her calves. She positioned his face so that it was stuffed up her ass crack, cutting 
off his air.

"I'm going to give you until the count of ten to push me off of your face, Mr. Sanders. If you fail, I will 
slap your flabby belly." She began counting as she ripped open his shirt in front, and Mr. Sanders kicked 
and wiggled under her, getting nowhere. The open handed smack she dropped onto his belly sounded 
like a gunshot and made him scream up her ass. Her red hand print glowed on his white flesh.

"It seems you're not up for this challenge just yet, my little bitch." She got up and stood over the poor 
man. He curled fetal, gasping for air and holding his stomach. "We had better work you up to it. Roll 
over and give me ten pushups, kissing my feet each time you drop down."

"Yes... Miss." Mr. Sanders gasped. He performed ten miserable pushups, kissing Bari's toes each time he 
was down. When he was done, he lay panting on the floor.

"That was pathetic," she said. "On your feet."

He struggled to stand.

She pulled away the shreds of his shirt. "Drop your pants."

Blushing hard, the man did as told.

"Over to the treadmill."

He climbed onto the machine wearing only boxers and gym shoes. Bari angled the ramp to a steep 
incline and turned it on to a good jog. Mr. Sanders struggled to keep up.

"Please, Miss!" he gasped.

"Twenty minutes!" she snapped. "If you fail me, I will blacken your eyes." As an added incentive, she 
spanked his bouncing bum as he ran. "Move it, Bitch! Faster!"

By the end, the poor man looked like he was ready for a heart attack. He fell backwards off of the 
machine onto his back.

Bari sat on his chest and pulled her peach colored panties to one side. You see this pie, Bitch?" she 
asked her new boss.

"Oh my," he gasped in reply. It was a nicely trimmed muff, a mound of juicy delight leading to a tight 
clam.

"Because you sucked so bad today, you will not get to lick it." She let her panties snap back into place. 
"When I come back in a few days, I expect to see improvement. Understood?"

"Yes Miss! I swear!"

"Fine then." So much for the carrot. Now for the stick. 

She slid her butt over his face as she stood and pulled him up by his hair, leading him over to a weight 
bench.

"Please, Miss," he gasped. "I can't take any more."

"I know that, silly," she replied. "I have you all worn out so you can't put up a fight." She threw him belly 
down onto the weight bench and sat on his back facing his rump. Bari pushed down his drawers, exposing his 
red cheeks.

"Miss?" There was a lot of concern in the man's voice. Bari didn't blame him.

"Now we find out just how much domination you can take... Bitch." She stuffed her middle finger up his 
asshole.

"AHHH!" he cried out.

"Am I being too creative for you?" she asked as she slid in a second finger.

"GOD!" 

"I don't hear you saying stop." She fucked his rump with those two fingers for a while, loosening him up.

"If... IF!... I... did... OH!... would... wou... AH!"

"If you asked me to stop, would I come back?" Bari asked. 

The man nodded and grunted as she thrust deeper.

"No," she replied and slipped in a third finger.

The man gasped, red in the face, but he didn't ask her to stop. He took it.

"I own you, Bitch," she purred as she pushed in another finger.

When an hour was up, she pulled her fist from his ass and stood. As she washed her hands at the sink she 
spoke over her shoulder. "The longer you can fight me, or work out for me, the less of that we'll have 
time for." She dried her hands. "So, unless you like getting fist fucked, I suggest you work out before I 
come back. Understood?"

Mr. Sanders, still on the weight bench, nodded. "Yes... Miss."

Bari sat at the table. "You may call me Mistress Pagano from now on, Bitch. And you may also go right 
now and fetch my pay for the day."

The tip was many times the $200 for the hour's work. Bari collected her clothing and left the mansion in 
high spirits.  In a year, her student loans would be history!