Marc is entranced by a playful exchange between two men and a woman on the street, and follows the men to their gym. On impulse he joins, but this is not a gay gym, and Marc finds himself systematically ignored. To challenge this he adopts increasingly provocative workout clothes. He is courting danger, as gym staff member Anatole tries to warn him.
But Marc doesn't listen, because one of the gym members, Orestes, appears to be showing interest. Orestes even propositions Marc in the parking lot behind the gym. The encounter is intense, beyond Marc's expectations. But it takes Marc down a path leading to captivity and utter degradation, which exposes him to unexplored aspects of his own inner nature.
Anatole rescues Marc, but needs rescuing himself from his own emotional suppression. Orestes re-enters the picture, and the dynamics of the threesome are sufficient to drive Marc to the edge of a personal abyss. He must choose between living the life of an ordinary gay man and that of a true "Sub." The BDSM relationship challenges his deepest values, but will is also feed his deepest passions?
It was about a month later, an evening when I had arrived rather later than usual. I hurried through my series of routines on the exercise machines -- keen to get my workout, for now I was really getting into it and didn't want to miss a session. I finished just before closing time and hurried to the shower.
The showers were deserted, and since I had given myself an especially rough session, I decided to have a really good shower. I set the shower temperature, and began to soap myself up, really getting into it, imagining how that woman in the tight sweater would have showered. I stood on tip-toes, one hand against the tile wall, and curving my torso, stretching and enjoying the act of open preening-all in my own private world.
I started and slipped in my surprise, almost falling. When I had recovered, I turned and saw Orestes standing under the spray of a shower nearly opposite me.
"Oh!" I said, suppressing a giggle. "I thought I was alone."
He was soaping himself, and I saw for the first time that he had hair all over his torso, even his shoulders. The water and soap, however, somehow made this quite sexy, and I found myself worried about a physical response. He was washing his groin at the moment as well.
"Alone?" he said, staring at me. "That's how you behave when you're alone?"
I did giggle then, nervously, at which he grinned and a wash of relief came over me. He was joking!
I grimaced. "Sorry!"
Scowling, he shook his head. "Too late!"
He removed his hands from his groin then, and gestured. "Look!"
I looked, and saw that he was sporting a full hard-on. Not only that, but it was massive; I wondered how I hadn't noticed it even with his hands in front.
I stared, mesmerized. Not only enormous, it was beautifully proportioned, with a proud, flaring head. I felt my throat dry in that moment. I couldn't think, and couldn't wrench my eyes away.
He shifted his stance and put both hands over his groin, then.
"Hey!" he said.
I looked at his face, and saw a mock frown, and felt relieved. He shifted his hands again, and when I looked I saw he was stroking his cock slowly with one hand, and fondling his balls with the other. I hastily looked at his face again, and saw he was grinning.
"Impressive, isn't it?" he said.
"Oh," I said. "Yeah, actually."
"Well, it's your fault," he continued, removing the hand on his balls and wagging a finger at me, while still stroking his cock.
"Sorry," I said vaguely, still staring, half hypnotized.
Now he grabbed his cock at the base and pointed it at me, thrusting his hips forward.
"Some of us," he said, punctuating his words with shakes of his cock, "are susceptible."
My face was burning by now, but I felt slightly giddy at the sight of him and the playful conversation. So I said challengingly, "To what?"
He gave a bark of laughter, pointing at me. "To what you were doing -- that ass."
"Really!" I replied. "I wasn't doing anything!"
He snorted. "Oh, come on! The way you were moving, posing. I mean, it was all I could do not to walk up behind you and - well ..." He made another thrusting motion with his hips, sliding his cock through a circle made by his fingers.
"Oh!" I said, and put my hand over my mouth, looking around.
Just then a voice came on the intercom.
"We are now closed. Please leave by the main doors, thank-you. We will be turning off the lights presently."
The announcement seemed to have killed the mood. When I looked at Orestes, he was mock looking at his watch -- he wasn't wearing one -- and miming and expression of surprise. Then he grinned at me, flicked his cock one last time, and then turned to wash himself off under his spray.
I stared for a couple of seconds, then gave up and turned around myself. I rinsed myself quickly and turned off my water. There was silence -- his water had been turned off, as well.
And he was gone.