Sunday, April 20, 2008

I have been spending some time in the gym of late, in the weight-training section amidst bulbous men preening their muscles in the mirror. It has opened my eyes to a lifestyle sub-culture that has hitherto remained outside my realm of observation.

The other day I was in the gym with a friend, who was spurring me on to lift increasingly heavier weights. Her sadistic zeal was such that by the end of the session I was calling her "Mistress Moran" (her name being 'Moran'). It was then that it occurred to me that a personal trainer is not dissimilar to a dominatrix and that a gym is not unlike a torture chamber.

After all, a personal trainer is someone who is paid to induce physical discomfort in her client. Her dungeon is a gym, usually a spartan, windowless room, containing an assembly of tools and contraptions designed to inflict pain on various parts of the human body.

Many of these devices bear no small resemblance to popular torture devices.

A fully equipped gym from the 14th century

But so what?, you may ask. Well, I just wondered if there was an untapped market somewhere in our fast-paced modern world for a two-in-one sort of service. A sort of "one-stop shop" for masochism where one could get fit and get off, as it were. I'm sure this is a thoroughly unoriginal idea, and that some enterprising soul has already established such a business on the underground scene and is doing rather well from it.


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