He showed me how to setup and use the machines and how to load and unload the barbells. He coached me in how to spot for someone; when to encourage; when to help, and when to get your toes out of the way. I tried a few reps with a bar loaded up to what we thought Steve could do so I would have the right feel for the weight and not give anything away too soon.
"This is going to be too good." Jim said with an evil grin. "I'd really like to be there."
"I think the weight room is open to anyone. At least Steve doesn't know of any rules about who can use it. They are just used to having it to themselves. But if you think there is going to be something to see, you're wrong. I just want to change Steve's idea that girls are helpless weaklings. I figure the best way to do that is by going onto their turf and playing their game. I don't have to win, I just have to show them that I can play."
"You and Steve Wojeski. I still can't believe it. I mean; he's huge. He's over twice your size. And you can probably whip his ass with both hands tied behind your back. I just want to be there when he figures out how strong you are. The look on his face..."
"No doubt. But I want him to be ready for it. If you come, I want no hints or sly remarks. I like the guy. I don't want him hurt, I just want to change his mind."
"Oh, I understand. I won't give anything away. I sure don't want him pissed at me!"
"Me either, but for different reasons."
Before bedtime, I picked out what I planned to wear to the weight room the next day. Steve, and the other guys I had seen during our streak through the locker room had all been wearing cropped t-shirts and loose nylon running shorts. I carefully went through my now sizeable wardrobe and picked out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts that I thought matched what the guys would be wearing. To accent the outfit, and to add a feminine touch, I packed a pink headband and a pair of footie socks with pink tassels as well.
The next morning, I changed my routine. Instead of giving Bud his wake-up fuck, I stripped out of my jammies and pulled on a short terry robe before going downstairs to feed the dog.
It was a cool morning, and there was a light fog hanging over the neighborhood. After I had prepared Brute's food and water, I slipped off the robe and stood barefoot and naked on the grass. I shivered slightly in the wet, chilly air and my flesh broke out in goosebumps
I looked around the yard, but Brute was nowhere to be seen. I figured he was off hunting in the woods, keeping us safe from squirrels and mice. I ran down the slope to the edge of the woods. I was just about to pass beyond the tree-line when I heard Brute crash out of his hiding place and come running toward me.
In the dim light and mist, he looked like a creature out of legend — a giant hound, bent on mayhem and destruction, with fiery eyes and slavering jaws. I thought if there were ever a local production of Hound of the Baskervilles, Brute would be a cinch to get the title role.
The fiery eyes and slavering jaws part of the description was dead accurate, but it wasn't mayhem that Brute had on his mind when he spotted my naked form on the verge of the woods, it was play. When he was only a few yards away, I took off into the trees, weaving and dodging between the rough trunks.
The trees were mostly pine and the canopy of green needles was high overhead. The ground between the trees was covered with a thick layer of soft brown pine straw and there was no undergrowth to speak of. As I raced through the woods like a nymph being chased by a satyr, I felt wonderfully excited and free. I laughed happily as I leaped and ducked between the pines with Brute bounding along behind me, trying to keep up.
Brute and I played forest spirits for longer than I had planned. It was so primal, running through the woods with the cool morning air making goosebumps on my skin and the fresh smell of the pines in my nose. I just wanted it to go on and on, to somehow lose my human form and become a sprite or a fairy; to merge with nature and no longer have to deal with the responsibilities and obligations that were being heaped on me.
As much as I loved the fantasy of becoming a dryad and living in the woods, I felt myself being pulled back to the real world and the weight of it coming back on my shoulders. I stopped running and sat down to rest in a bed of soft pine needles, with Brute sitting beside me, my faithful protector keeping guard against some unknown danger while I recovered.
When I had my breath back, I braced myself on the dog, pulled myself to my feet and started walking back toward the house. Brute walked right alongside with my arm around his neck.
After a couple of minutes, I became concerned as I realized that I had no idea which way to go to get back to the house. The forest seemed endless in all directions and each direction looked the same as another. I was worried needlessly. I had to hand the finest expert on navigating these woods that could be found. I pulled myself onto Brute's back and sat astride his broad shoulders, holding onto his collar.
"Brute. Home." I said. He took off at a quick walk, threading expertly through the trees until we arrived in our own backyard again in just a few minutes.