Montana's Aerobics Club (F) - Vote Story
- lanadelgagged
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Montana's Aerobics Club (F) - Vote Story
Night falls on the sunset strip of LA, and a white muscle car trundles down the lanes. It parks in front of a diaphanous establishment, wide window panes dominate the entrance to the gym, and the pink neon sign outside reads 'AEROBICS CLUB' in handwritten typography. There are some machines, but most of the space is vacant, with a small pulpit in the centre of the room. A blonde woman steps out of the vehicle and onto the curb, she's roughly five feet two and is carrying a black duffle bag to the back entrance of the gym.
A lanyard hangs from her neck with a card holder dangling right below her breast, it reads 'Montana Leighton, Aerobics and Yoga Instructor'.
Once inside, she ambles over to the locker rooms, sits on one of the benches next to a boombox and starts undressing, first by taking off her kitten heels, and then by removing her tank top and chino pants. She turns to the duffle bag on the floor and unzips it, inside she finds her workout gear.
She slips onto:
A. a Hot pink single-piece spandex suit, with nude shiny pantyhose and white leg warmers.
B. Black one-piece spandex suit with white tube socks up to the knees.
C. Blue one-piece spandex suit with white sneakers and hot pink leg warmers.
A lanyard hangs from her neck with a card holder dangling right below her breast, it reads 'Montana Leighton, Aerobics and Yoga Instructor'.
Once inside, she ambles over to the locker rooms, sits on one of the benches next to a boombox and starts undressing, first by taking off her kitten heels, and then by removing her tank top and chino pants. She turns to the duffle bag on the floor and unzips it, inside she finds her workout gear.
She slips onto:
A. a Hot pink single-piece spandex suit, with nude shiny pantyhose and white leg warmers.
B. Black one-piece spandex suit with white tube socks up to the knees.
C. Blue one-piece spandex suit with white sneakers and hot pink leg warmers.
Bondage writer and graphic designer. https://www.deviantart.com/lanadelgagged
Put a sock in it!
Put a sock in it!
I'll go for B this time. Nothing like knee socks, which are an effective weapon. ![Laughing :lol:](./images/smilies/icon_lol.gif)
![Laughing :lol:](./images/smilies/icon_lol.gif)
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- CarouselCowboy13
- Centennial Club
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I vote for C
My Dear it's no use to struggle. But I would greatly appreciate it if you, could and would
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B I have tied up my girl friends many times with tube socks, one for the wrists and one for the elbows behind the back. They don't slip and can be pulled rather tight without much circulation loss on the elbows.
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With every option tied, it feels like i have deciding vote!
I vote B. Interesting premise, look forward to seeing where it goes!![Very Happy :D](./images/smilies/icon_e_biggrin.gif)
![Laughing :lol:](./images/smilies/icon_lol.gif)
I vote B. Interesting premise, look forward to seeing where it goes!
![Very Happy :D](./images/smilies/icon_e_biggrin.gif)
- Bondageboi
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- lanadelgagged
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B Wins!
Montana draws a black one-piece spandex suit and slips into it, stretching its fabric so that it sits comfortably on her toned shoulders, tight around her chest but not too much. With the kitten heels on the ground, barefooted, she draws a ball of rolled-up tube socks, stretches them, and puts the right one first, then the left one, both up to the knees. A glance at the large hall reveals some men and women donning spandex of different colours and sizes already warming up, Montana zips the duffle bag shut, stuffs it inside her locker and makes her way to the pulpit.
With a clear view of the almost full room, Montana turns the boombox on, thunderous drum machines and 80s synthesizers blurt out from the speakers, and the walls echo with a blend of the music and the blonde instructor's command. This dynamic carries itself to the end of the lesson, as the minutes go by the room becomes hotter and hotter, almost like a sauna.
By the end of the lesson, Montana too has broken into a profuse sweat, she strikes up casual conversations, congratulating their alumni on their performance as the room gradually clears.
Montana turns her back towards the exit to pick up the boombox and tidy up the pulpit, she thinks she's on her own, but a glance confirms she's wrong.
At the glass doorway of the entrance stands a man, leaning against the doorframe, wearing a black tank top, blue jeans and sunglasses that concealed his Asian features, Korean to be precise. At first, Montana Leighton barely registers his presence, but seeing that the man is motionless, she resolves to act:
A. She politely informs him that the class is over and asks him what he's doing there, at a safe distance.
B. She berates him and commands him to remove himself from the premises at once.
C. She ignores his presence and disappears into the locker room.
Montana draws a black one-piece spandex suit and slips into it, stretching its fabric so that it sits comfortably on her toned shoulders, tight around her chest but not too much. With the kitten heels on the ground, barefooted, she draws a ball of rolled-up tube socks, stretches them, and puts the right one first, then the left one, both up to the knees. A glance at the large hall reveals some men and women donning spandex of different colours and sizes already warming up, Montana zips the duffle bag shut, stuffs it inside her locker and makes her way to the pulpit.
With a clear view of the almost full room, Montana turns the boombox on, thunderous drum machines and 80s synthesizers blurt out from the speakers, and the walls echo with a blend of the music and the blonde instructor's command. This dynamic carries itself to the end of the lesson, as the minutes go by the room becomes hotter and hotter, almost like a sauna.
By the end of the lesson, Montana too has broken into a profuse sweat, she strikes up casual conversations, congratulating their alumni on their performance as the room gradually clears.
Montana turns her back towards the exit to pick up the boombox and tidy up the pulpit, she thinks she's on her own, but a glance confirms she's wrong.
At the glass doorway of the entrance stands a man, leaning against the doorframe, wearing a black tank top, blue jeans and sunglasses that concealed his Asian features, Korean to be precise. At first, Montana Leighton barely registers his presence, but seeing that the man is motionless, she resolves to act:
A. She politely informs him that the class is over and asks him what he's doing there, at a safe distance.
B. She berates him and commands him to remove himself from the premises at once.
C. She ignores his presence and disappears into the locker room.
Bondage writer and graphic designer. https://www.deviantart.com/lanadelgagged
Put a sock in it!
Put a sock in it!
-
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I'll be a rebel and choose "A" this time.
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- tiedinbluetights
- Centennial Club
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A. I'm curious how that would play out.
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- lanadelgagged
- Centennial Club
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A Wins!
Towel in hand, the blonde instructor dries off the last beads of sweat from her forehead, turning her head to meet the mysterious man's gaze. His perfect stillness puzzles her, his calm demeanour, and how out of place he seems in a place like this, so late at night. Montana Leighton's voice echoes across the room made bigger by the massive mirror behind her:
"Hey, sorry, class is over. It's closing time. But you can take one of the brochures at the entrance if you're interested..."
Montana Leighton points to a rack with pamphlets and brochures by the entrance, nestled under the cork bulleting board, she picks up the boombox from the ground and ambles to the locker room. Halfway through, she realises the man hasn't moved an inch, she wonders whether he heard her words or not. The man now smiles.
"Didn't you hear me? Class is over. Bye bye. Finito."
As she struggles with the heavy boombox, some frustration can be sensed on her part, for the man walks a few steps inside towards her.
"Do you speak English? Didn't you hear what I just said?"
"Montana, right? Montana Leighton." – finally comes his manly voice.
"Yes, that's me. What do you want?"
"Nice school you got going here, nice place actually. How are you finding the Korean Neighbourhood?"
"Fine, I guess. It's... peaceful..."
"Good. How about we ensure it stays that way?"
"I'm not following."
The man moves over closer to her, and takes off his sunglasses.
"Do you know what protection money is?"
"Yeah..."
"Well, you're a few weeks due, but it's fine. We understand that not all novice business owners understand the inner workings of the mafia, so I'll just ask you once nicely. You pay us, and we protect you. Simple enough, right?"
"Protect me from what? I'm not in the least interested."
"From... pitiful consequences..."
Montana Leighton decides to:
A. Try to defuse the situation by asking how much money she's due.
B. Command him to leave the premises at once before she calls the police.
Towel in hand, the blonde instructor dries off the last beads of sweat from her forehead, turning her head to meet the mysterious man's gaze. His perfect stillness puzzles her, his calm demeanour, and how out of place he seems in a place like this, so late at night. Montana Leighton's voice echoes across the room made bigger by the massive mirror behind her:
"Hey, sorry, class is over. It's closing time. But you can take one of the brochures at the entrance if you're interested..."
Montana Leighton points to a rack with pamphlets and brochures by the entrance, nestled under the cork bulleting board, she picks up the boombox from the ground and ambles to the locker room. Halfway through, she realises the man hasn't moved an inch, she wonders whether he heard her words or not. The man now smiles.
"Didn't you hear me? Class is over. Bye bye. Finito."
As she struggles with the heavy boombox, some frustration can be sensed on her part, for the man walks a few steps inside towards her.
"Do you speak English? Didn't you hear what I just said?"
"Montana, right? Montana Leighton." – finally comes his manly voice.
"Yes, that's me. What do you want?"
"Nice school you got going here, nice place actually. How are you finding the Korean Neighbourhood?"
"Fine, I guess. It's... peaceful..."
"Good. How about we ensure it stays that way?"
"I'm not following."
The man moves over closer to her, and takes off his sunglasses.
"Do you know what protection money is?"
"Yeah..."
"Well, you're a few weeks due, but it's fine. We understand that not all novice business owners understand the inner workings of the mafia, so I'll just ask you once nicely. You pay us, and we protect you. Simple enough, right?"
"Protect me from what? I'm not in the least interested."
"From... pitiful consequences..."
Montana Leighton decides to:
A. Try to defuse the situation by asking how much money she's due.
B. Command him to leave the premises at once before she calls the police.
Bondage writer and graphic designer. https://www.deviantart.com/lanadelgagged
Put a sock in it!
Put a sock in it!
"A", and maybe this less-than-genial man will inform her that payment is accepted in units of bondage.
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I vote B. How will he deal with her refusal?![😈](//twemoji.maxcdn.com/2/svg/1f608.svg)
- tiedinbluetights
- Centennial Club
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Let's tie things up by me voting A.
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