Gym Voyeurism: Pretty

March 19, 2008 rooroo

I must admit, I spend my resting between sets checking out what other people are doing. Or what they’re not doing. It’s a habit of mine, one I don’t wish to break just yet, as I think the gym is often the perfect place to get voyeuristic.

One particular favourite of mine was in today. I like to call him Pretty.

I’ve only seen Pretty on a few occasions, but each time I see him, my heart silently misses a beat, as I wonder what kind of adventures he’s about to get into next. Well, this of course, is untrue. Unfortunately, he’s entirely predictable. For this reason, I can’t take my eyes off him.

 Pretty has very pretty hair. He must straighten it with straightening irons, because it really is that straight. And he likes to fiddle with it, while beaming at his reflection in the mirror. The only exercises Pretty does, are bicep curls. But when and where he will do them next, nobody knows! I’ve seen him curling in the squat rack. He curls in the corner. As long as there’s a mirror in front of him, he’ll curl. That isn’t the best of Pretty. When he is done, he likes to 1) play with his hair, 2) flex his muscles in the mirror, or as I discovered with joy today, 3) he lifts his arms slightly, gives them a little flex, mouths something at them (grow, my pretties?) and then proceeds to give them a little ‘tap’ with each hand.

 As if Pretty couldn’t get even more delightful, he goes above and beyond my estimations. He leaves all his plates and weights out. I’ve never seen him put anything back. Someone almost tripped over a rolling dumbbell of his once.

 So really, what’s going on in my head when I see Pretty? Pretty makes me feel pretty damn sadistic. I tend to lean more towards masochistic, however, there’s something about this calibre of gym goer that just makes me want to cast off the bondage tape. I’m hoping that like Samson, all of his strength is in his hair. The sadist in me is telling me to tie him up, sit him in front of a mirror, and cut every little strand off, one by one, in a painstakingly slow manner. He can then pick up every little morsel of hair, as a stark reminder of the importance of picking his mess up off the floor. I don’t know exactly what I would say to him, as I’m still growing into a role of dominance, however, I’d like to do it wearing my lifting gloves. And burgundy high heel shoes.

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Entry Filed under: free range rude, gym, kink, people watching and tagged: , , ,

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