Learning Curves Part 2

That afternoon, Kara called me into my room where she had laid out ten pairs of panties of different colors.

I looked at them and then back at her. She explained calmly, “Michelle, I bought you these as a gift, a symbol of the new self I think you need to become.” She paused to gauge my reaction. “I want you to wear these, as a sign of your acceptance of living as a new, transformed self, of living under my rules. Can you do that sweetie?”

My face was red with both embarrassment and arousal. I met her eyes and nodded slowly.

“Good girl.”

I looked back down at the panties, somewhat reluctantly. She put a hand on my shoulder and said, “Listen, there’s probably a part of your brain that is telling you to run, telling you to escape the things I’m doing to you, the things I’m going to make your do.”

I gulped audibly as she continued.

“But there’s another part of your brain that wants this. That feels the pleasure of submitting to me, of living in the shadow of my power, of enjoying being small and weak. That’s the pleasure you feel when you look at me, when you think of how much I’ve grown, and how much you haven’t. When you think of my height and my muscles and my confidence and a little part of you shivers inside. That’s the part I want to help grow, Michelle. Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes, Kara.” I said weakly.

“I’ve read the stories you keep going back to, Michelle. The stories of a wife overpowering a husband in bed – fucking him like he’s the girl, of a sister stronger than a brother – taking over the household, or a fit, muscular female CEO with her weak, male secretary – the one where she marries him and fucks him with a strapon on their honeymoon. You love those, don’t you?”

My face was red and I averted my gaze, “I … I don’t know Kara. It’s just fantasy. I don’t know if I really want that.”

She smiled and placed her thumb under my chin, raising it to look at her eyes. Her gaze cut through me and I felt both weak in my knees and a growing erection.

“Exactly. You don’t know. So let me see how it feels when we explore that together. Let’s see what kinds of submission works for you, and how much you like being my agreeable, submissive girl roomie.”

“Putting on these panties will be an important symbol for you to agree that you’ll be guided by me. I think we can both acknowledge that manhood hasn’t really worked out for you, has it? You’re kind of directionless, adrift, and, to be honest, just too weak.”

She wrapped one of her powerful hands around my thin arms and squeezed it firmly. “I think you’re definitely the girlier one in the house sweetie.” She continued, “And when I took your computer away and gave you instructions on how to live, it improved your life, didn’t it?”

I nodded silently.

“You need more of that sweetie. More of my firm hand directing you.” She continued, “It will be so good for you, Michelle. To have me guide you, to help you turn your life around. You’ll learn to look to me for guidance and direction.”

“So go ahead, put your panties on.” As she said this she released my arm.

“Now?” I asked.

“Yes, now.”

“Can I have some privacy at least?”

She furrowed her brow at me, “No. This is an important moment for both of us, of you accepting my rules, and I’m going to be here for it. Now, do as I say.” She spoke firmly and directly.

I slowly slid off my pants, and then my boxers. I tried to turn my body away from her but she grabbed my shoulder with a strong arm and turned me around, “Don’t you hide from me!” and she looked down at my penis dangling between my legs.

“Well you’re not all girl… you have a nice cock, Michelle. You shouldn’t be shy about it.”

Something about being naked in front of Kara and appraised by by her was turning me on

“Now, get dressed.”

I reached for a pair of pink panties closest to me and pulled them up my legs. I reached for my pants before she stopped me.

“Hold on. Let me see you.” I turned towards her. “Please spin around.”

I did as she instructed and saw she was smiling at me. “Very good. You’re already learning to follow my instructions. I also wondered which color you would pick -- pink tells me that you really are a girl underneath all of the male exterior. That you’re trying to subtly not just accept, but love, your new girlie self.”

I replied, “Well I didn’t really have a choice did I?”

“You always have a choice. But you’re obedient, Michelle. In your heart, I just know you want a strong woman to tell you what to do. And so when I command, you obey. Isn’t that right?”

I didn’t reply.

“I said, Isn’t that right Michelle?”

“Yes, Kara.”

She smiled. “Good girl. Now, when you spin around like this, you should take your time. Let me really take in how you look – give me something to think about.” And with that she reached around and pinched my ass.

“Now, don’t put on your old boy pants.” And with that she reached into a bag she had brought into the room and pulled out a light yellow skirt. “Put this on instead.”

I wasn’t going to argue again so simply replied, “Yes, Kara.”

I took the skirt from her hand and slid it up my legs. I had to admit that the skirt made my legs and ass look good. I was always hairless on my legs so I really was starting to look like a girl.

Kara took me in before commenting, “Wow, you like fabulous, Michelle. Your legs are so thin and soft, you’re a natural. And those legs are so smooth and feminine.”

She pulled her shorts up one of her legs and stuck it out next to mine. Her legs were thick and meaty and when she flexed I could see the swollen muscle of her thigh – it was so large and strong, I longed to sink to my knees and kiss it.

“I’m a little jealous, Michelle. Your legs are so much more feminine than mine. See how much bigger I am than you?”

I could feel an erection forming in my pants and said, “Yes… you’re so much bigger Kara.”

“I know, sweetie. I’m younger than you but so much bigger. My Mom bought me this skirt last year but I could never fit into it because my muscles are too big.”

I was breathing heavily as she continued to describe it.

“My Mom really hoped that this skirt would help me feel like more of a girl. It didn’t work for me, but is it working for you sweetie?”

“Yes…” I whispered, almost panting with lust.

She put her arm in front of my face. “Feel my bicep.” I did as instructed and she flexed, I felt the muscle underneath explode. My heart was racing and I was rock hard in the panties. She lingered a second before she pulled me into her and whispered into my ear, “Now you should really feel like a girl. I’m definitely the man here.”

She licked my ear slightly and my body tingled with erotic sensation. “Now do another spin, but this time, go slow and stick your ass out. Show me how sexy a girl you can be.”

I did and she instructed, taking time to present my ass to her. She squeezed it firmly as I spun.

“Oh yes, you’re a natural. I see now why you’re drawn to all that submissive erotica and porn. It’s a safe space where the real you, the girly you, can come out. Now I’m going to bring that girly you out here.”

She gave me a kiss on the forehead and then walked out of kitchen leaving me there with the pile of panties, my heart racing, and my heart pounding. As she walked away she called, “I’ll have my dinner in about an hour. Please don’t make a lot of noise as you’re cooking it as I need to study. There’s a girl.”

I was left standing there in the pink panties and skirt with a thick erection pushing against my panties.

About an hour later I had finished making a meat pasta for dinner and I knocked softly on Kara’s door. She was working at her desk and looked up at me with a smile. “Is dinner ready? Thanks.”

She had changed a tank top and shorts and I was a little taken aback when she unfurled her body from the chair and stood up. Her face was still young so at times she still seemed like the girl next door but when she stood up, standing 5” taller than me, and seeing her upper body a collage of tanned muscle, I remembered just how powerful and developed she was. My body trembled involuntarily when I saw her power.

She smiled at me and said, “I’m glad you’re still in your skirt. You look so cute in it. But we should paint your nails. Painted nails would make you look so cute.”

I felt humiliated and aroused – the girl next door had remade me into something of a doll while she herself was becoming more and more powerful.

I walked behind her into the kitchen and watched as she took her dinner. There was a part of me that felt proud and satisfied that I could make a small contribution to supporting this incredible woman.

“Thanks so much for this. It smells great.” She poured us each a glass of wine and we got talking. She said, somewhat casually, “I don’t think you should feel embarrassed about your submissive inclinations. Like I said earlier, we’re a good pair: I want to be dominant, you want to be submissive.”

She continued, “It’s just who you are: for you, being led is important, for me, leading and having muscles is important. I saw how guys treated girls and I didn’t want to be treated that way.”

“In what way” I asked.

“I don’t know. I guess, I just wanted to ensure that I took the guy position. I kinda learned that this summer…” she reclined in her chair and put her hands behind her head. My eyes traced the swell of her biceps and I thought about feeling them earlier that day. My breath was already heavy with desire and my mind was swimming a fog of lust. I felt like I was losing myself to Kara’s forceful personality and her continually arousing behavior. Did she want me or was she just teasing me? What could I do to make her want me? To make her fuck me?

She continued, bringing me out of my haze, “There was a guy who worked on the tree planting crew with me, his name with Rob, and he was so cocky. He was older than the rest of us and he thought he was the best and  could have any girl. He had some strength but it was more flab than muscle. At the beginning of the summer, one evening, he tried to come onto me and I pulled away. He tried to pull me into his lap and I got away – just barely. He was a predator – so gross. I knew after that, that I had to get strong to keep him, and other guys like him, away.”

“So every night while he was drinking beer and ogling the girls, I would do chin ups, lift weights, and do crunches. That plus the tree planting was helping me get really strong. My goal was to ensure that none of those guys, especially Rob, could ever touch me.”

“Everyone on the camp noticed how I was building up my muscles and occasionally Rob would make a snide remark about how I was trying to become a man or how no guy would touch me if I looked like a man. He was a supervisor there so he spent the days driving around in his truck, eating chips, drinking beer. While I was getting stronger and more cut, he was getting fatter. By about midway through the summer, I knew I could take him.”

“About a week before we were set to leave, everyone was drinking and Rob tried to come onto me. I told him I wasn’t interested but when I left the fire to pee, he followed me into the bushes. It happened so quickly, I don’t think he could’ve ever imagined what I was thinking.”

She took a sip of her wine. She was clearly reliving the experience in her mind and I was right there with her.

“I can still picture his face, looking at me with a drunken sneer, as he started to unbuckle his pants. He mumbled something about ‘finally giving me what I’d been asking for’ and then and tried to push me to the ground.”

“I dodged his push and instead flipped him onto the ground. His pants were around his ankles and I got on top of him and wrapped my legs around his neck and started slapping his face and then his ass. Hard.” By now the wine was taking effect and I could see her nipples poking out of her tank top as she recalled the scene.

She was a vision of a young goddess, the nipples of her firm breasts looking firm in her tanktop, her neck was strong and her shoulder muscles swelled as she told the story.  I was adrift on her words.

“He was trapped and he must’ve suddenly realized just how strong I was as he was trying to pry my thighs open. I looked down at him, his face trapped between my calves and squeezed a little, then a little more. It was crazy how easily I’d turned the tables. Within a few seconds he was crying, begging me to stop.”

She paused and looked at me, breathing heavily.

“I pulled out my phone and started recording him. I asked him if he was begging me to let him go and he cried yes. I asked him if he was going to be a good boy and do what I said for the rest of the summer and he said yes.”

“He had tears coming down his face and he looked totally defeated, totally humiliated. It was fucking hot so I straddled his face and made him eat my pussy until I came all over him.”

We were both breathing heavily now and Kara was staring at me firmly.

“He knew he had to obey my orders from then on or I’d show everyone the recording of him crying between my legs. Everyone knew that something had changed because I would snap and say ‘Robbie, clean the dishes’ or ‘Robbie, wash my clothes tonight’ and he would do it. I would snap my fingers and he would jump”

She continued to look at me with an intense gaze: “I don’t want you to think of yourself like that, Michelle… Robbie was someone who needed to be put in his place, to understand that women aren’t his playthings. You’re someone who understands your place, who respects the superiority of women.” She paused, “I think you sense that superiority and that’s why you want to be a woman.”

I spoke up, “ I don’t want to be a woman.”

She continued, “Well at least, you need help seeing your own inner woman, to recognize that you haven’t succeeded as a man but could be an amazing girl.” She smiled at me before continuing, “I don’t want to break you like Robbie, I want to help remake you by taking you under my wing.”

I smiled back at her. Her words were so assured and confident and I felt myself wrapping myself around them, “Yes, Kara. I understand.”

“Good girl.”

She took another sip of her wine, “Now, I need to get back to studying. You don’t mind cleaning up, do you?” she asked with a cocked eyebrow.

I smiled, “No, Kara” and she smiled right back.

That night, Kara brought my a few silk nighties to sleep in, insisting that I get used to the feeling of something soft and sulty. Later, I lay in bed, and felt aroused at both the feeling of the silk and I touched myself thinking about the story she had told me. About her sweaty, powerful body at the tree planting camp, about her lifting weights, doing chin-ups, and building her muscles. About how she had conquered the men there and become the undisputed alpha at the camp. Her strength, her drive, her combination of power, femininity, and masculinity. The power in her thighs as she crushed Robbie… what would I have given to have my face between them, worshipping her.

While she was building herself up, turning herself into a young amazon, I’d been working at a dead end job reading books, playing games, and going nowhere. I thought about her saying she was going to take me under her wing and remake me. I thought about the muscles in her neck and forearms, glinting in the light, as she told me her story. The contrast between us was incredible – my legs were thin, white, and weak whereas hers were thick and strong. Her whole body was rich with thick, knotted muscles and I was so soft and small in comparison. I touched the small lump of flesh on my chest, the soft weak chest that looked anything but masculine, and pulled my nipple, thinking of her pectorals, her tits, her biceps, her clit.

It all turned me on so much and I lay in bed my cock thickened and I began pounding it furiously. I looked to the door, fantasizing that Kara would step through, spread my legs, and fuck me. Instead, I soon came into a pile of tissues and then rolled over and fell asleep.

The next morning I was making breakfast and Kara told me to get ready and come with her to her class. “There’s someone you really have to meet. It’s like this class was made for you.”

I didn’t have class that morning so I agreed. Dressed in my usual boy clothes, but with panties underneath, I followed her to WMNS201: Amazon Feminism. Apparently the class was taught by Professor Stanton, someone I’d heard about as a kind of radical feminist on campus. We got there just as the class was starting and found places at the back of the lecture hall.

Prof. Stanton was a tall woman, easily 6’2, and moved around the front of the class with ferocity and intent. In her classroom were a small smattering of boys at the back of the room but the rest of the class was packed with women. The Professor was wearing a red blouse with short sleeves and a long skirt. Her black hair was cut short, giving her a fierce look. I found a seat at the back and listened to parts of the lecture. She moved across the front of the hall as she spoke: “Amazon feminism is about recognizing women’s innate strength and power and using that to redress the inequities of the past. Feminism has taken an intellectual approach to seeking equality – in this class we draw on readings that take a combined intellectual and physical approach towards equity, to build women up…”
Looking around the room, I could see that the women in the class hung on the Professor’s every word and were completely convinced by the points she was making.

At the end of class, Kara insisted I go to the front of the classroom to meet the Professor.

Needless to say, I was completely intimidated. If Professor Stanton looked imposing from the back of the room, she looked absolutely amazonian up close. She was wearing 3” heels and must have been 6’5 in her heels -- I didn’t even reach her shoulders. Those shoulders were round and looked strong and my eyes took some time tracing the noticeable muscles in her arms. Her arms were strong, with notable veins running from her bicep up to her wrist. She was clearly in her late 40s or early 50s but had the strong body of a much younger woman and exuded virility. She looked like she had been carved out of stone.

We approached together and as we walked up, the Professor turned to us. Kara was behind me and I felt her strong arms push me forward. The Professor turned to look at me, and, as she did, I noticed her calve muscles flexed in her heels and her lengthy skirt was wrapped tightly around thick hips. She looked like a strange combination of a professional bodybuilder and a female wrestler but was dressed in professional clothing. I had to physically look up to make eye contact with her and the effect made me feel childlike in her presence. She appraised me quickly and said, in a deep voice, “Yes, young man, how can I help you?”

I felt absolutely tiny standing between this gigantic woman and the young amazon. I was in stunned silence, but Kara spoke, “Professor, this is my friend and he’d like to sign up for your class.”

I did?!? I hadn’t discussed this with Kara. Sensing my uncertainty, she squeezed my shoulder.

She looked me up and down before speaking, “Young man, you do understand this class is primarily focused on women’s issues?”

I looked to Kara who subtly nodded at me.

“Yes, Professor. I would still like to attend.”

She stared at me for a moment before speaking. “And do you understand that this class has a large physical component to it?”

Physical component? What did that mean? Kara squeezed my shoulder again.

“Yes. I understand.”

She appraised me again before saying, “Very well. Follow me to my office.”

Kara said she would meet me after class and I followed the Professor as she returned to her office. I almost had to run to keep up with her and more than once I found my eyes looking at her powerful legs striding down the hallway. Her calve muscles flexed full and powerful with each stride -- this woman was like something out of my fantasies: tall, powerful, and domineering. Her leg muscles burst with each stride and I found myself fixated on them.

At last we arrived in her office – a large office with old, expensive furniture and walls lined with books. She took her place behind the stately desk and quickly filled out a form. As she did so, I stood in front of her office, waiting for her to acknowledge me. She filled out the form and then looked up at me.

“Your girlfriend, she is making you take this course?” she asked directly, with a cocked eyebrow.

“Kara, she isn’t my girlfriend. My roommate. We’re just friends.”

She contemplated me for a second before continuing. “Did she explain the basis of the course?”

“Not exactly.”

The professor put her elbows on the desk and exhaled: “The course is based on both a series of readings and theories that help women to realize their full potential as well as a series of physical laboratories where women are encouraged to physically realize their potential. This means we meet in a gym four mornings a week. These sessions are mandatory. Will that be a problem?”

I found myself replying automatically: “No, Professor.”

She smiled, “It also means that the boys in the class do separate physical work than the women. We organize the course on the principle of equity, not equality. So women do one set of work that is aimed at supporting their equality. And boys do different work that is aimed at sharing power with women. Rather than exclude boys from the course, I am committed to helping them see their own important roles within an amazon feminist worldview.” She paused, “Are you comfortable with that?”

I had no idea what she meant by this but found myself saying, “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled. “Good.”

She stood up and came around the desk towards me: again, I felt like a small object of prey being surveyed by a predator – I was eye level with her breasts, I could see the muscles in her long powerful legs and in her arms. She was so close to me that I could smell the slight perfume on her body. She exuded a powerful pheromone that was immediately intoxicating: I had a vision that she would press me against the desk there and rape me – there would be nothing I could do other than accept her dominance. I would melt next to her powerful body. My wish did not come true.

Instead, she spoke in a low voice, “I don’t want some boy coming in here trying to prove he’s a man, trying to prove that he can compete with these young women. I expect you to follow instructions and be a good, supportive presence in the class.”

She seized my arm with her hand and squeezed. Her grip was tight and strong and her hand felt like granite as she wrapped it around my soft flesh.

She continued, “That means being supportive when asked, deferential when instructed, and obedient when told.”

The past few days I’d been living in something of a haze of fantasy and sexuality, first with Kara, who had blossomed from the girl next door into an amazonian goddess, and now with this Professor who stood in front of me like a muscular dominatrix with her powerful arm wrapped around mine. I was losing my bearings on what to do and felt like I was being pulled along a stream over which I had no control. At the same time I was loving every second of it, surrounded by tall, powerful women. I was so close to this statuesque, dominant amazon and could feel my heart racing and my cock hardening in my pants. The pain was intense but it was equal to my arousal. My eyes were fixed on the floor and her black stilettos “Yes… Yes ma’am.”

“Look at me when I speak to you.”

I looked up into her fierce eyes and felt myself shaking slightly. She held my arm firmly.

“I’m sorry ma’am. Yes, I’ll be good.”

She smiled and surveyed me for a moment. “Good,” she said quickly and handed me the sheet, releasing me.

She shouted, “Robert, come in here please.”

From the next office over, another Professor, a small, older man with a slight paunch and in a dusty jacket and dress pants came into the office moving with what could only be described as a hasty scurry: “Yes, Ma.. Rachel?” he asked.

I recognized the Professor as one of the senior instructors at the school. He might have had seniority on Professor Stanton but he looked absolutely cowed in her presence. We stood before her like two schoolboys.

“Please take this form to the secretary to process this student’s enrollment. Thank you dear.” She briskly handed him the form and returned to her desk and began taking out some papers.

The two of us stood there unsure of what to do next before Professor Stanton looked up and snapped her fingers, “Now, please. I have work to do.” We jumped at the irritation in her voice before moving quickly out of the office. The older Professor silently guided me to the secretary’s desk and handed her the enrollment form. She looked me over with an amused look and confirmed that I was enrolled before advising me to go to the bookstore to get my supplies.

At the bookstore I found the readings for the course but was surprised to learn the course also included an article of clothing. The article was a light pink one piece that looked halfway between a swim suit and workout clothing from the 1980s. I held it up and wondered what it was for before paying at the front cash and read the course outline while waiting in line. It turned out the first ‘lab’ session was tomorrow morning at 7am in the gym – the space had been rented specifically for our class.

That evening, back at the apartment, I asked Kara what the course was about and why we were going to the gym. She smiled, but said, “I’m not totally sure – something about strength and equity. All I know is that we’re supposed to wear the clothing provided with the course books and be ready to exercise tomorrow.” We were standing together in the kitchen and I told her I felt unsure about the whole thing and asked her if she thought the class was really a good idea.

She came up behind me, pressing her body into mine and pushing me against the oven, “Michelle, didn’t I tell you that I was going to help you?”

I was silent. I could feel her strong body pressing against mine. Again, I could barely think with desire.

“Did I, Michelle?”

“Yes,” I whispered weakly.

“Then let me do it. I’ll tell you what’s good for you. You just follow my lead. Let a strong woman be in charge… just like you’ve always wanted. OK, sweetie?”

My cock was rock hard in my panties and I was breathing heavily. “Yes, yes.”

She pulled away, “Good girl. Be ready in the morning.”

The following morning I was standing in the gym lobby at 6:55 and my nervousness was increasing as we got closer and close to 7am. There had to be about 50 young women there and about 10 guys. Kara was running a bit late so had said she would meet me there but I didn’t see her in the crowd. I had put the light pink one piece on and found that it really did look like something out of an 80s workout video. It felt more androgynous than girlish, but it definitely wasn’t masculine. The outfit held my genitals and pushed them back giving me something of a smooth appearance in the front. It felt both weird and a little bit exciting to wear it.

When I first tried it on I felt strangely humiliated and considered dropping the course completely but I knew Kara wouldn’t let me get out of it now. I also was scared to have to return to Professor Stanton to be taken out of the course. So I put it on and slid my regular boy clothes over the one piece before walking to the gym.

I was sheepishly assessing the crowd, noticing the nervous looks of the other guys in the room, when a whistle was blown near the door to the gym. The crowd went quiet and everyone looked over at Professor Stanton standing at the door to the gym in tight workout clothes. Her tight yoga pants had the shimmering look of PVC and clung to her muscular legs. She wore a white tanktop overtop a red sports bra that held two large breasts. From the other side of the room I could see the definition in her arms: they were powerful and thick and I was mesmerized by her combination of sexuality and strength. She stood well over 6’ and towered over the room of women and men, although a number of the women were close to her size.

“Attention, please, class. Thank you all for getting here on time this morning.”

“The class will be broken up into 2 groups along gender lines. Men, please proceed to the change room on the left, women, you can use the change room on the right. Men, you will be training with Kate,” she gestured to a woman to her right.

Kate was a smaller woman in a pink jumpsuit, the same colour as the one I had. She looked younger than the Professor, and shorter by a good 2 or 3 inches, but fit and lively all the same. She smiled and waved to the group of boys who had assembled at the side of the room.

When the boys filed into their workout room, it turned out Kate was a fair bit younger than the Professor and quite a bit friendlier. She had a bubbly attitude and was welcoming as we all filed into the section of the gym where the boys would be working. She was tall, standing about 5’10, and while she wasn’t muscular like the Professor, I saw sinewy muscle in her arms and legs – she was still quite strong and toned.

“Gather around, boys” she said with a smile. She instructed us to form a circle on the mats around the room. We begrudgingly followed her instructions and found ourselves all looking to her. We looked like a strange group of guys, all wearing the outfits as instructed. I could see that there wasn’t one of us with much by way of muscles: we all had thin arms and legs. Kate was definitely the strongest person in the room … by a lot.

“Now, part of the goal of this course, as the Professor has indicated, is to help everyone build themselves towards a more equitable professional and personal life. In the classroom you’ve done the readings that help you understand why that’s important, in here we’ll do the work that helps make that possible. This class is really about social change, not just thinking about things but putting them into place, making them part of our daily lives.”

“I’ll be helping you with dietary decisions, exercise, and personal life choices that work towards a more equitable lifestyle.”

She went on explaining that the workout sessions would focus on diet, exercise, and personal behavior.

I was a bit worried about the workout because I had never really tried to lift weights before but then Kate brought out the weights that we would be using. They were pink dumbbells with weights of 3 and 5lb. Even I could lift that.

We spent the first half of the session stretching, limbering our legs, backs, and torsos. It felt strange to be in this group of androgynous-looking guys, in a circle around the mat, contorting our bodies in new ways. I expected the stretching would be a quick warmup but it went on for quite a while. After about 30 minutes of stretching I could really feel my legs opening up and felt a new ability to move. We then spent about 20 minutes doing bridges, raising our butts with the weights on our stomachs. This wasn’t tiring at first but we did it at least 100 times and eventually my glutes were burning. I was wavering with the intensity of the workout but when I looked over at Kate I could see the muscles in her bare legs flexing as she thrust upwards. I was relieved when Kate said we were done.

The final section of the class was about nutrition and Kate explained that we needed to record our daily food intake and that we would receive bonus marks for staying under 1200 calories and eating no meat. She walked us through the environmental benefits for this, the health benefits and other parts.

By the time the session was over I had sweat a little bit but mostly had a burning feeling in my abs and around my butt – those were the muscles we had worked out. I was proud of myself that I had got through the entire first workout.

At the end of the class, Kate spoke to each of us individually. I was a bit nervous and approached her with trepidation but she gave me a warm smile that lit me up inside.

“Mike! You did great, today.”

“Thank you.”

She placed a hand on my cheek and rubbed it assuringly. It was strangely familiar, but this whole class experience was strange.

“Did we scare you off? Will you be back?”

I smiled back, basking in her natural warmth, “Yes, I’ll be back. This was actually really fun.”

“Now, do you think you can do a good job and stick to the assignment?”

I was eager to please this woman: “Yes, I think so.”

Her smile broadened, “Great. You can email me if you have any questions at all, OK sweetie?”

“Yes, Kate. Well, I do have one question.”

“What’s that?”

“These outfits… are they necessary?”

She smiled again, “Oh, yes. They’re part of the Professor’s program. She has found that they’re a key part of the instruction.”

“OK.” I said.

“You have a great day. See you again soon.”

In the changeroom, all of the boys were quiet and quickly got changed back into their street clothes. I filed out first and found Kara in the lobby waiting for me: she was quite sweaty and looked exhilarated. She was talking to a group of other girls she’d met in the class and she waved me over.

All of the girls were taller, although Kara was the tallest in the group. One girl next to me was heavier and stood about 5’8 and a few others were between 5’8 and 5’10. They all looked like they’d had an intense workout and were all wearing the same matching black shimmery yoga pants. I could see the sweat on their various workout tops and it was clear to me that they’d had a serious workout.

I was surprised that they weren’t wearing the same outfits the guys had been wearing. I assumed that all of the students were but was it just the boys? Kara interrupted my thoughts.

“Hey, everyone, this is my friend, Mike. He’s in the class too.”

I looked at the girls with a weak smile and felt them assessing me – I suddenly felt the kind of erotic sensation of smallness and weakness that I’d been experiencing with Kara this past week. I felt small and slight next to these women and then somewhat irrelevant as they continued their conversation without me.

When Kara and I left the class, and we walked back to our apartment together, I asked her about the outfits.

“Well, those are the boys’ outfits, Mike. They’re designed to help you explore your feminine side.”

She put her arm around me and pulled me into her. I could feel the heat emanating from her body as well as the strength in her arm.

I looked down at her torso and could see her thick thigh muscles exuding from her yoga pants. Her legs were ripped with muscle.

“The Professor explained that women have been coaxed into feminine behavior their whole life so they need to be pushed in the opposite direction.”

“So the boys need to be more feminine and the girls more masculine? And we meet in the middle?”

She looked down at me and smiled, pulling me in closer to her large frame, “Something like that.”