Chapter 8: A Problem With Puppy Fat

Course 8 : Day 2 Course Progress Meeting

Participant Notes: #50

Josephine: The first part of #50's induction this morning should not present any serious problems. George and I will take care of her initial physical with the others. We'll start with the standard introduction to the weight loss/ fitness programme and make an assessment of what she might need during the rest of her course.

Jenny's Recollections

Well it's started. I've been anticipating and also dreading this for quite a while and now we're off. After the tension of yesterday's events, the worry about what would happen, the — yes — the stress of it all, it was quite a relief to be left alone in my - ah - room. I worried myself asleep thinking about my safe call — I would have felt a lot happier, if I had been able to speak to Angela in person. Anyway, when sleep finally came, I stayed asleep until the lights came on and the shutter went up.

First thing this morning, we are all collected together and taken to a gym. I'm feeling really screwed up with embarrassment, being naked because of not following instructions! I feel fee so stupid! Completely humiliated! It's a new building on the other side of a small courtyard just across from the building where we were kept last night. It's awful having to go outside between the two buildings to feel the cool air on my naked skin for the first time.

The gym is pretty well equipped. There are six treadmills, six cross-trainers and a serious collection of free weights, together with weights benches and some other weight training machines. I've never been much into keeping fit. The university has a gym, but I never really find time to use it. This stuff looks quite scary! Thinking back to why I am here, I can see that there would be plenty of opportunities to study a mixture of stress and play in here.

On the plus side, there's also what looks like a rather nice pool which connects through a tunnel to an outdoor pool extension.

Jo and George tell us all to strip. I'm naked already along with Sue. Thank goodness I have a partner in crime, so to speak. We exchange a smile, recognising our shared mistakes. I can see that Sue is a few years older than me. She's built more heavily than I am. She's a bit overweight if I'm honest. What she does have is a great pair of breasts. I've always felt that mine were too small, Sue's are substantial with large dark aureolas. Suddenly I'm conscious that I'm staring at them. She returns my look and grins. I guess we all know why we're here.

The other three are wearing grey track suits and one of them, Carrie, doesn't like being ordered to undress. They ignore her objections and eventually she complies. Their whole approach is very matter-of-fact, assuming we'll do as we are told, treating us as so many units needing to be processed. It's all very impersonal, but not much worse than trying to check out a book at the university library!

We get weighed, measured and have the thickness of our skin folds measured with some distinctly aggressive looking callipers. They look nasty, but they don't hurt. In fact, the sensation is on the pleasant side of strange. Jo and George note down the results without commenting on any of them. They just wave us to come with a click of the fingers, or wave us away as they need us for each stage of the process.

It's only when they have obviously got all the details that they want, that George goes out with all the notes and Jo takes some time to explain what they are doing. She has us line up against the wall, facing out with our hands on our heads. "There are two things you need to be aware of as a slave. One, are you fit enough for the things you'll have to do? And, two, do you look the way your owners — that's us — want you to? We're going to make sure you measure up on both counts. You all probably know about having your Body Mass Index worked out from your height and weight. However, muscle weighs more than fat and BMI becomes less accurate the more fat you lose and the more muscle you put on. At that point, it's better to measure skin fold thickness and look up your Body Fat Percentage. For you girls, we are aiming for 20% of your weight as fat. That will let your muscles show through with lots of sexy definition. We like lean, well-muscled, slaves who look nice and are fit and strong. Unfortunately, this can't be achieved in the time you have with us, but you are going to get a flying start and we'll take you as far as we can - so there will be homework for you after you are discharged. We WILL be checking up on you after you get home, just so when you come back you won't have to start from scratch..."

Homework? Checking up on us? When we come back!?? Gosh, I had not expected that! It's beginning to feel like being in the grip of some sort of secret society. Perhaps we are. But are they really serious? Best not ask, just keep my eyes and ears open. I need to try to remember all this for my thesis anyway. It certainly ups the stress levels, the way in which they assume they are in complete control of every aspect of our lives. But then, thinking about it, they are.

George comes back carrying a box which he places on the table at one end of the gym. One by one, he points to each of us and beckons for us to come forward.

First we get a rubber chest strap, which fits just beneath our breasts. This is part of a heart rate monitor and the monitor goes on our wrists. They are obviously taking care of us. Second, we're told to put on a rubber G-string, which is pleasantly firm. Third, we get what looks like a swimming costume for each of us. It almost feels odd to have clothes on again.

George explains that these are "triathlon suits". Mine fits firmly rather than tightly and it's definitely snug between the legs on top of the rubber G-string but it's not uncomfortable.

Once we've all got our suits on and we're standing in a line across the gym - hands on our heads again - Jo begins to work her way along the line. She gives each of us a belt, which locks around the waist. There is a pouch, or a pocket at the back which I guess in normal circumstances would be for a sports drink bottle, but for us looks like it contains some sort of box. We can't open the pocket. Jo takes a wire which issues from the pocket and pushes it through a small zip opening in the back of our suits to plugs it into some sort of connector on the back of the G-string. What's that all about? Some other sort of monitor?

"OK, girls," George calls us to order. "Slaves have to be fit and so we are going to begin to change the habits of a lifetime for some of you." George looks across at the slightly overweight Sue. "You are all going to get a daily work out. We will always start with an aerobics session. We are going to keep you at your optimum heart rate for "fat burn". But to help you do the best you can, as it were, your kit will deliver a little added incentive..."

George presses a button on what looks like a small TV remote. Carrie immediately yelps and rubs her crotch, as if she has been stung. George continues, "Your G-strings are made from an electroconductive rubber. It runs, as you can feel, rather snugly between your legs, over your anus and between your labia. If you do not keep up with the treadmill settings, or the supervisor thinks you are giving less than 100 % - well Fifty-two?"

"It really stings!" Carrie looks upset at being chosen as the guinea pig for this particular demonstration.

"Yep," George smiles, "it really stings and will go on stinging until you catch up and or start doing your best!

The juice comes from the power packs on your belts, so you are carrying the means to maintain your own discipline. OK, enjoy your session. Jo will look after you!"