Worship Me Part 2
By Muscle Fan, covert.1@hotmail.com



Chapter 3

That night, a night you could say was a turning point in my life, Sheila, the
owner of 'Sheila's Gym' went over my workout schedule; what body part I'd work
on what day, my nutritional goals and even what vitamins and supplements I
would be taking. She was quite knowledgeable and didn't come off as trying to
sell me anything. When we were done I was shocked to see that it was nearly
midnight. We had talked and strategized for 5 full hours.

Armed with notes and a lot of reading material, the next day I found myself
excited and anxious the closer it got to quitting time. I hurried home,
changed and went back to the gym. Sheila met me at the door, shutting it
behind me. She locked it, saying, "This will be a private session, as I want
you to feel comfortable." She had on white cross trainers, a pair of shorts
and a T-shirt over a sports bra. This was the first time I had seen her out of
her track suit.

"Wow," I said as I walked in, "you look fantastic." "Thanks," Sheila said, "I
thought I'd just wear what you do for a change." And then it dawned on me that
she was, in fact, wearing what I had on. Of course it looked amazing on her
and on me, well, not so much.

She looked at me and smiled as if to read my mind and said, "Come on, don't
worry about it, let's get started, shall we." And we did. We followed her
workout instructions to the letter. Moving from one piece of equipment to the
other, she provided inspiration and words of encouragement as I struggled with
some of the exercises.

At the end of an hour and a half, I was bathed in sweat. "I need to hit the
shower," I said, "I don't know whether I'll be able to move tomorrow." "Why
don't you shower here," Sheila said, "then I'll give you a massage and I
promise you'll feel no pain tomorrow." "I believe you," I said, "but I didn't
bring a towel or anything to change into." "That's OK," Sheila said, "I have
plenty of towels and some things you can slip on to run home." She was quite
persistent.

I relented and headed to the shower room. I stripped off my shorts, shoes,
socks, T-shirt and sports bra and stood there looking at myself in the mirror.
I was trying to imagine myself with muscles. Finally I stripped off my panties
and padded to the shower stall.

The hot water felt wonderful on my body, and the lavender scented body wash
and corresponding shampoo was great. I toweled off with the plush fluffy towel
that Sheila provided.

When I reentered the locker room, Sheila had a massage table set up. "Hop up
on the table," she said. I must have hesitated a bit because she said, "Its
OK, I promise you'll feel better after the massage and you won't be sore in
the morning." So far, Sheila hadn't steered me wrong, so I hopped up on the
table, lying face down and she took the towel from around me and covered my
back side from my shoulder blades to mid-calf.

Sheila was an accomplished masseuse. I must have dozed off because she gently
shook my shoulder. I was now laying face up although I don't remember rolling
over. The towel was discretely placed across my hips. "Hey there, sleepy head,
I'm done," she said, "you can get dressed and I'll see you tomorrow," and she
bent and gave me a kiss on the lips.

I blinked a couple of times willing myself to wake up if I were asleep. 'Did
she just kiss me on the lips', I thought, 'or was that a figment of my
imagination?' "Wow," I said, "I must have dozed off." "Yes, you did, you must
have needed the rest," Sheila said.

I got off the table and Sheila folded it as I got dressed in a pair of
surgical scrubs that she had laid on the bench. "I know those are a little big
on you," she said, "but at least you'll get home without being arrested for
indecent exposure." She left, carrying the massage table under one arm.
"Good-by", I called over my shoulder as I made my way out of the locker room
and across the floor of the gym. "See you tomorrow," Sheila called from behind
me as I neared the door, "Just lock it behind you." I glanced back and caught
the reflection of Sheila, naked, flexing before a mirror. I blinked once or
twice and the image disappeared.

'Maybe I was dreaming,' I thought as I walked home, my workout clothes under
one arm.

I changed to my flannel pajamas, ate a light supper and watched an hour
sitcom, but found I couldn't concentrate. Instead, my mind wandered to Sheila
and her naked in front of a mirror flexing her incredible muscles. Through
partially closed lids, I found myself touching my clit. Brushing a finger
across it at first, then fingering with more force. Soon I took it between my
forefinger and thumb and gently squeezed.

It had been months since I had masturbated, but I did so tonight, Sheila on my
mind. It felt wonderful and I came with such force that I nearly splashed the
walls. 'What was happening to me,' I thought as I dozed off to sleep.

Chapter 4

A month or two had passed, and work was going well. I finished one piece after
another, got praise from my counterparts at the firm and had my stories and
editorials published. My workouts continued and I was beginning to see a
marked contrast to my body from what it was when I started.

That's why I was a bit surprised when after my normal nightly workout, Sheila
said, "Are you ready to take it to the next level?" "What exactly is the next
level," I asked. "We need to have you enhance your metabolism. Stimulate the
fat-burning function of your body and jump start the muscle growth portion,"
Sheila said. "And how do I do that," I asked. "I've got some dietary
supplements," she said, "that in conjunction with the vitamins and minerals
you're already taking, you'll add muscle mass and take it to the next level."

'Hmm,' I thought, 'I vaguely remember talking about that but it's so hazy.'
"Sure," I said, not wanting to go back on what I had said some time back,
"Let's take it to the next level." "Excellent," Sheila said, "I knew you'd
want to do it".

"One thing that you should consider is improving your hygiene," Sheila said.
"What?" I said, nearly screaming. "No, no," she said, "what I mean is,
trimming your pubic hair. There are several reasons for doing that, not the
least of which is improving your hygiene." "What are some of the other
reasons," I asked. "Well, there wouldn't be the possibility of showing any
hair around your panty line at the beach, your swimsuit will fit better, the
men or women in your life will be able to go down on you without the errant
hair getting in their mouth, and you'll feel better," she said. "Well, I don't
have any men or women going down on me, so that's out," I said. "You don't
now," Sheila said, "but just you wait."

'Wait', I thought, 'that's all I have been doing.' "What do you propose?" I
asked. "Well, I think you should let me give you a waxing," Sheila said, then
added, "I'll be gentle." "Oh, alright," I said, and she brought out the
massage table, the machine for heating the wax and the pads for removing the
hair. She was gentle.

"There," Sheila said, "isn't that better?" As I stood in front of the mirror,
my hand instinctively rubbed the now clean mons. "It feels strange to the
touch," I said, "will it itch when the hair grows back in?" "A little, but the
trick is not to let it grow," she said.

My panties felt nice now next to my skin, I had to give Sheila that.

Chapter 5

I had been taking vitamins and Sheila's supplements on a regular basis for
several months now. Eating healthier and working out harder, lifting more
weight and in general taking better care of myself than I had in the past. I
felt I was starting to see the payoff.

I stood before the full length mirror in my apartment examining each and every
aspect of my body. Critiquing it, pinching the areas where I thought fat was
hiding and making mental notes of the places where I felt extra attention
needed to be spent. Still, I had to admit I was seeing the beginning of
six-pack abdominals and my arms and legs were shaping up beautifully.

Clothes were becoming a problem. I realized I'd soon need new summer clothes,
not just because the weather was turning warmer, but my old wardrobe had grown
a little snug. Also, I thought I had gotten a little taller, but perhaps that
was my imagination. I was well past the age of having a 'growth spurt'. Maybe
I could talk Emily into going shopping with me; she had a little more fashion
sense than I did.

I dressed and walked to work, a bounce in my step. As I was waiting for the
elevator, Bob from accounting came through the lobby. "Hi, Jane, how are you
do?" he said. "Oh, hi, Bob, doing fine, how about you?" I replied. "I've been
OK, say, would you like to go grab a coffee some day after work?" he asked. "I
don't know, Bob," I said, "I'm pretty busy most days after work, but let me
see what I can work out."

The elevator came and we boarded the car. I was going to the eighth floor and
Bob to the tenth. As I got off the elevator, I had the distinct impression
that Bob was watching my ass as I walked down the corridor, so I stole a
glance over my shoulder before the doors slid shut and was pleased to see that
not just Bob but three other males were following me with their gaze. Smiling
to myself, I entered my office and logged on to my computer.

Later that day, I was in the break room washing down a vitamin and one of
Sheila's pills when Emily came in. "Oh, Emily, I'm glad I ran into you," I
said, "I need to do a little shopping, are you free this weekend?" "Well, I
was suppose to go out to mom and dad's, but I'd much rather go shopping with
you, Jane," Emily said, "let me call and cancel, then I'll get back with you."
"That would be terrific, just let me know," I said.

At 4:00, Emily stopped by my office. "Sorry, Jane, I've been playing
'phone-tag' with dad all day, but I'm free this weekend now if you still want
to go shopping," Emily said. "Sure, I need to get some new summer stuff, most
of what I have is pretty small on me," I told her. "You know," Emily said, "I
didn't want to say anything, but I thought you've gotten a little bigger and I
think you've grown too, what's with that?" "I have no idea," I said, "it must
be all the working out though." "Well, you look great, Jane, listen, I've got
to run, but keep me posted on the shopping," and Emily dashed down the hall.

Jane and I met at South Coast Plaza Saturday at noon. We grabbed a bite to eat
and then browsed past several stores. We went in to one that looked promising.
I picked out several items; slacks, skirt, and blouses. As I was trying on my
selections, Emily browsed the racks. The slacks I selected were good around
the waist but snug in the thighs. Peeling them off, I studied my thighs in the
mirror. I was beginning to see definition in the muscles.

Just then, Emily rapped on the door jamb. "How's it going in there?" she
inquired. "It's going fine," I said, "but could you find a different pair of
slacks, ones that have a stretchy material." "Sure," she said, "let me look."

She was back in a minute. She opened the dressing room door and handed me the
pants, then her eyes went to my legs. "Oh, my, Jane, what have you been
doing," she asked. Not fully understanding what she meant, I stared at my legs
in the mirror once again, the pants all but forgotten. "What do you mean,
Emily?" I asked. "You've got muscles, Jane" Emily said. I smiled, "Yes, yes, I
do," I said, "what do you think?" "I'm impressed," Emily said, and I stepped
into the pair of pants that Emily had brought me. They fit like a glove.

I paid for my purchases having selected two pair of slacks, three blouses and
two skirts. The skirts were shorter than I normally wore, but I liked the
thought of showing off my new legs.

Next stop was 'Beach Baby', a shop specializing in beach attire. The beauty of
this shop was that you could pick separate bottoms from different tops. In my
case, my top needed to be on the small size.

Emily and I squeezed into a dressing room and I hung my selections on the
hook. We stood there a moment, me, running my fingers through my hair, while
Emily looked at the two of us standing side by side. "That's odd," Emily said,
"you look like you're taller than me." So I stopped primping with my hair and
stood up straight. Emily was right. I use to be an inch shorter than her, now
I was a full inch taller, and she had her flats on which meant I was probably
more like two-inches taller. 'Wow!', I thought, 'this is great.'

Now I was getting excited. My body was changing, finally, some results.