It's Not Fair (Short Story)

It’s Not Fair!

Written By SteeleBlazer

It’s not fair I tell you. It’s not fair at all! Muscles are for men and not for women. And yet, I’m going to tell you a story that might prove otherwise. This story is about a growing trend. It’s really more of a growing concern of mine about women becoming stronger and more independent. And I tell you, women having big strong muscles are just not fair at all.

My name is Chad and I am a big, strong man. I love being big and strong, and I think that's how a man should be. I also think that women should be small and weak and subservient to men, because that's just the natural order of things. They may not think it’s fair, that they’re the fairer sex. But, if they were meant to be the stronger sex, they’d have the big and strong muscles. Muscles like mine.

I love working out because it helps me impress everyone, especially women. They may not have big muscles like mine, but I know they’re awe of my muscles and just love them too. But so far, my muscles have been wasted on unimpressed women who just don’t seem to be as impressed with my muscles as what I am, despite me being the biggest and strongest man in the whole freaking gym. I figure they must just be in too much awe of me and afraid to be with someone as hunky and hot as I am.

But that won't stop me from working out and getting bigger and stronger. I love going to the gym and the weight room, because most people would agree that it's a manly place. It's a sanctuary for men to go to and build up their muscles, becoming stronger and more powerful, more manly.

But what happens when women decide to use the weight room, the most manly of all places? I can't stand it. Sure, they're pretty to look at, but they get in my way and slow me down. There is a place for women, and it's not the weight room. Surely, women don't belong in there...

Surely, they can't compete with the men. They're weak and dainty creatures, and they should stick to lighter, "girly" weights. However, these women didn’t. Sure at first they were lifting the light pink weights, but as time went on the weights grew bigger, along with their muscles. It’s not right and it’s not fair that they make such great gains. But as I watch them lift heavier and heavier weights, I can't help but feel a sense of dread growing within me. How can they be getting stronger and bigger? It's not natural, it's not right.

But, really why should I worry about them. They’re girls and they’ve got nothing but girly muscles. I’m a big strong man, they’ll never become as strong as me. Also, I figure it’s only a matter of time before they get bored with working out and lifting weights and stop showing up. I bet they’re just one chipped or broken nail away from giving up weightlifting for good. But as the women keep coming back to the gym day after day, lifting heavier and heavier weights, I couldn’t help but feel something was off, I know that my world is about to be turned upside down.

As I, strutted around the weight room with my chest puffed out and my muscles flexing, I couldn't help but feel a sense of superiority wash over me. I was convinced that I was the manliest man in the gym, the strongest and most powerful one there. And I loved nothing more than laughing and teasing the women who dared to enter the sacred sanctuary of manly strength.

I would leave my weights lying around, not bothering to re-rack them or put them away. I would laugh and tell the women to put them away for me, knowing full well that they were too heavy for their delicate, feminine hands to lift. I would also sweat all over the equipment and not bother to wipe it down, laughing when the women complained and telling them that men don't clean, that's what women do. I would tell them to stop lifting those girly weights and get back to cleaning, and I would laugh at them and their feeble attempts to match my strength.

But as the weeks went by and turned into months, I started to notice something strange. The women at the gym were getting bigger and stronger. They were lifting serious weights, and some of them were even lifting more weight than some of the men. I couldn't believe it. How could these weak and dainty creatures be getting bigger and stronger? It wasn't natural, it wasn't right. But as I watched them day after day, lifting heavier and heavier weights, I knew that my laughter was starting to fade.

I tried to keep up, straining and even injuring myself in the process. I refused to let a little injury stop me from going to the gym, convinced that I was a real man and that these women were nothing more than a passing fad. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't match their gains. They were getting stronger and bigger, and I was starting to feel small and insignificant in comparison.

And then, the worst happened. The women started to lift more weight than me. They were outpacing me, outmuscling me, and it was more than I could bear. I found myself cowering in fear, unable to lift the weights that they were lifting with ease. They even started to kowtow me, forcing me to clean up and wipe down my stations and laughing as they left their weights lying around for me to put away.

As I, Chad, the strongest, manliest man in the whole gym, struggled to put away the weights that the women had left lying around, I couldn't help but feel a sense of shame and inadequacy wash over me. These were heavier weights than I could lift, and I had to take some of the weight off the bar just to be able to put it back.

The women noticed my struggle and they laughed and teased me, pretending to be ignorant of the fact that they had left the weights out for me to put away. They thought it was funny that a man like me couldn't lift the same weights as they could, and their laughter was like a knife to my ego.

I hated their laughter almost as much as I hated the way their muscles rippled and their biceps bulged and their shoulders mocked me with their brawny burly might. I was used to being the strongest and most powerful man in the gym, but now I was being bested by these women.

Worse still, I found myself getting kicked out of stations that I had been using. The women would tell me that they weren't done with it, and in the past I would have laughed and told them too bad. But now, the way they crossed their arms, and the way their biceps bulged and their forearms just brimmed with burly rippling muscles, it was all just so intimidating. And I’m not even talking about the looks they’d give me. I never thought such comely beautiful faces could instill me with such fear, no matter how sweet their smiles might be.

And when they asked if they could work in, increasing the weight on the machine, or adding more weight to the bar as they did so, I felt weak and insignificant. A man should never feel weak, and yet in this crazy world, this crazy gym, all the men seemed to be weak compared to the women. It was a humbling experience, and one that I hoped I would never have to endure again.

I couldn't take it any longer. I gave up on working out, convinced that I had been muscled out of the gym by these strong and powerful women. I muttered to myself that I had never really liked being strong anyway, and that there was more to being a man than just big muscles, even though deep down I knew that I had been intimidated by the women's strength. I had let my hubris and narcissism get the best of me, and as I watched the women lift massive weights, the kind of which I only dreamed and fantasized about lifting, and them lifting those weights with ease, I knew that my world was crumbling away. I had been bested by these women, and there was nothing I could do about it. The thought filled me with shame and horror, and I knew that I would never be able to show my face in the gym again.

So, I packed up my locker, a locker that I had had for over 4 years, I couldn't help but feel a sense of madness and rage wash over me. I was upset that I had to leave, but this gym had become too crazy, too weird for me. It had gone to the women, big, buff, muscular women with bulging muscles and I couldn't take it anymore.

I tried to join other gyms, but every time I saw a few women working out, I would get scared. What if they were going to get big and buff and strong, just like the women at my last gym had done? I became paranoid, convinced that the women were taking over the gym world and that I had no place in it.

So, I stopped working out altogether, afraid of the women and their strength. I slowly got weaker and weaker, my muscles atrophying and my confidence dwindling. It didn't bother me, or so I told myself. But as I looked in the mirror and saw myself getting smaller and weaker, I couldn't help but feel ashamed. I had let my fear and insecurity get the best of me, and I had lost everything that I had worked so hard for. I had let the women win, and I knew that I would never be the same again, but the world will never be the same again.

You must believe me, I'm telling the truth. The women are out to get us, to make us weak and powerless. They're waiting, biding their time, waiting to grow bigger and stronger. And when they do, we'll be the weaker sex. Just like how I am now.

I can’t help but feel despair wash over me as I think about how weak and skinny I have become. It’s not fair, I tell you all! It’s not fair that the fairer sex is now the stronger sex. But that was their plan. All men should listen to me and heed my words, you must believe me. If the women could humble a manly man like me, what chance do you have?

It’s just not fair!