Life of a Dominant Futanari Week 7 Chapter 280/ 30: Collecting Recordings

Hey Guys,

Sorry for the confusion on this chapter. I have modified the chapter a bit in the later half because I had Angela's personality completely wrong. I hated the chapter because Angela was not acting like Angela. It was what was bothering me and made me freak out over the chapter. I got super annoyed on why I did not like it all of a sudden, and I already published it to you guys. Leading me to make the previous post.

After rereading it seven times, I learned what was bothering me and Corrected it. Sorry for any confusion. This is all Cannon.

Madjic

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Knocking on the office door, I smiled when Mr. Trimmers came out, but my smile faltered when suddenly another person walked out with them. It was a man with strawberry blonde hair that lightly coated the top of his head, looking a little bed-headed, and had a light beard that covered his lower face. The guy wore a white t-shirt with the words horizon in bold burgundy on it, and his pants were just normal-looking blue jeans. He also looked decently fit, with muscles showing on his arms and through his shirt.

"Hello, you must be Angela. I am Trevor. Nice to meet you," he said with a large smile, and Mr. Trimmers smiled.

"Angela, this is Trevor; as he just said, he is one of my friends from my school days. Do you mind if he watches you run today?" Mr. Trimmers asked.

I looked at the man, and I could not help but wonder if this was the scout. I thought we were going to be videotaping something and sending it to the scout, though. I don't know what to do if I mess up today. Ah, Shit, I was starting to get very nervous at the moment. I would just have to perform as I usually do, I guess. "Hello," I replied with a nervous smile.

"I hope you don't mind me asking something, but why are your pants wet?" He asked.

"My Lover squirted all down the front of my pants," I replied nervously before I even knew what I was doing, and the man looked at me Surprised. I chuckled, "Oh, sorry, bad sense of humor; I just spilled water on it while washing my hands."

Trevor laughed, and Mr. Trimmers chuckled, "Angela, do you mind if I ask about your tattoos?"

"Oh, These are fake tattoos; I got them done with my girlfriend for an event," I said, trying not to go into detail.

"Oh, they are temporary. Do you mind if I compliment you and say that those tattoos suit you?" Trevor said, and I looked at him. Was he flirting with me?

"I am a woman who appreciates compliments," I replied, smiling, still feeling nervous as hell. "I also like the look of them. Um," I said, turning to Mr. Trimmers, "Are we still doing as planned yesterday?"

"Yes, I want you to take off your weights and do some running for me like yesterday."

"Perfect, are we recording?" I asked.

"Yes, we are," Mr. Trimmers said before he pulled out a set of equipment and supplies from behind the door. He then handed some of the things over to Trevor, and we all started to leave the gym. 

"So, Angela, What sports are you interested in?" Trevor asked.

"When I was younger, I played Soccer, but these days, I am heavily into Volleyball and Running. I have been running as a hobby for the last decade or so every day. I also know Some mixed martial arts. My ground game needs work, but my Muay Thai is strong. I am more of a striker when it comes down to it."

"Wait, you know Muay Thai?" Mr. Trimmers asked.

"Oh yeah, been practicing for about eight to six years from my Sensei. I am in the top three in my gym, and I am really the only woman who goes there."

"Who do you normally fight," Trevor asked, sounding interested.

"My Gym bros," I replied, feeling a lot less nervous as I got talking. "Only one of them is going real pro." I said casually as we walked down the field, "Juan is faster than me, though, in the ring. He really is light on his feet and good at dodging. So I struggle against him because my ground game needs work."

"I would love to see you fight," Trevor said.

"Um, sure, I can arrange something if you want. My Sensei hasn't seen me in a while since. I have to admit my life has gotten a little crazy, you know. Too many love-; I mean, Work does that to you," I chuckled as I realized my slip up to admitting the truth. "I won my last bout, although that was because he was being a jackass to my girlfriend. Took him out with a gut shot. Kind of boring. I could really use a good fight if I am being honest."

The more I thought about it, the more I thought I could actually really use a good fight. I wonder if I could get in the ring with Juan soon or Iban. Still, I had not seen Iban in a while, so I doubt I could have something arranged.

"Oh, are you interested in going pro in Martial arts?"

"Nope," I said, popping the P. I wondered why I had been doing that lately, but I liked the sound of it. "I value my brain, Trevor. My head is where I think, and it gives me the ability to think. I will not put my head in danger for money. Football is one of the worst sports, followed by various martial arts for head injuries. I like my brain to work without injury, so I avoid them. Not that I haven't sparred and done various things that might jeopardize that. But that is because life has risks, and learning martial arts has risks if you want to learn to fight truly."

"You are interesting," Trevor replied, then said, "Well, we are here; let's see you do some running."

"Mr. Trimmers, since we are recording this, do you want me to do a run with weights on and off?" 

"How much weight are you carrying?" Trevor asked.

"Two hundred and forty pounds," I replied, "Mr. Trimmers?" 

"No. We can do a recorded weight running tomorrow. Let's start with no weights."

"Okay ~!" I replied happily. I removed my weighted vest and ankle and arm weights, hopped a couple of times, and started stretching. That moment of weightlessness when taking off so much weight was always nice. Then I bounced around a bit and stretched some more to get used to my weight dramatically falling so much. 

It was so much different than just taking them off for the night, and I smiled. "Okay, all ready, I think," I said, lightly jogging over to the starting spot and doing a final stretch. "Okay," I yelled over. I put my hand on my thigh and stretched out my leg as I looked over and repeated with my other leg, "Tell me when to start!"

"Um, Angela, your starting position?" Mt. Trimmers called out.

"Oh," I said and got into the start spot and waited.

"That is not a starting position."

"What are you talking about then?" I asked.

"Do you not watch the Olympics or track events?"

"Hmmm, oh, you mean those starting positions?" I asked back curiously.

"Yeah!" Mr. Trimmers said happily.

"I don't really know them if I am being honest. I never need them for morning jog." I replied bluntly and really hoped that this would not adversely affect my results. "Hey, that is something you can teach me, Mr. Trimmers," I said with a grin trying to lighten the mood and cover my nerves coming back. Then again, he had not really taught me anything yet and this was something he could teach me. I saw Mr. Trimmers blush hard, and he waved his hand.

"Never mind, Start in three! Two! One! GO~!" 

The countdown was off, and I started to run, which quickly turned into a sprint, and I started to float across the track. Running like this felt so good, and I enjoyed the breeze as my hair blew back behind me. My wet leg was a minor annoyance, but it did not truly matter. What did matter was the breeze on my skin as I rounded the track for the first lap and went for a second.

Whenever I just took off the weights, this weightless feeling made me feel like I was floating as I ran around the track. I was two hundred-plus pounds lighter, so it was nicer. I continued to breeze around the track again and again. I let myself zone out into the sprint. When I started to feel like I needed to slow down a bit, I did and turned it into a run before going back to a sprint. The two methods were different for me, and I smiled as I ran around the track again and again.

Mr. Trimmers and that Trevor guy were talking while pointing at me, and I guessed I was doing well because Trevor looked animated as he talked. But I could only see them as I finished my laps and went around for another. They did not matter to me at this moment. 

Who knew if Trevor was a scout or a friend of a scout? I needed to run and sprint to show them I had what it took to compete. Mr. Trimmers and Mrs. Grendier thought I had what it took, so I should believe in myself. 

Ah, this feeling. I live for this feeling of running. For so many years, I have chased after this feeling as I zone out into the run. I begin to sprint and float along with a stupid smile on my face. My breathing barely remained in control as I continued around the track again and again. As I fell more into a trance floating around the track, I let myself flow.

"Angela~! TIME TO STOP~!" I suddenly heard a yell and looked at the Teacher and his friend. I continued the lap and then started to slow down, doing another half-lap of jogging, and the rest I walked until I returned to them.

I had completely lost track of myself, and the cool autumn air kissed my skin as I walked toward them with a heavily sweating forehead. "Oh, yeah, that was an awesome run. I got into it for a bit and kind of zoned out. How did I do?" I said, barely keeping control of my breathing as I came back.

"How are you feeling?" Trevor asked curiously.

"Me, oh, I feel like I could have gone longer. I was in the zone. Honestly, I'm kind of sad you asked me to stop." I grinned happily, "Did you videotape it?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah," Mr. Trimmers said, "Angela, do you really not know starting positions?"

"Um, Not really; I mean, how stupid would that look if I started my runs in the morning looking like that? Ass up in the air, bent down, looking for a race? I just slowly get up to speed with a quick jog into a full sprint, then rotate sprinting and running to keep speed and stamina. Also, it helps stop me from getting injured."

"I see what you mean," Trevor said, "How fast can you get me that footage?"

"I need to finish uploading this, and then later this afternoon, Mrs. Grendier will be, showing off some of her volleyball practice. So probably tomorrow?" Mr. Trimmers replied.

"Oh, is he like a scout or something," I finally had the opening to ask.

"Are you going into multiple sports?" Trevor asked, and I shrugged.

"I like running, so why not?"

"I am not a scout, but I know a couple. Would you mind if I contacted them and showed you running to them?"

"Um, I am going to be blunt, Trevor," I said slowly, thinking, "I want to go to Horizon University for one simple reason, Because Alex, my friend," I stopped myself from calling her my bitch, "Is going there. I want to go there because I want to make a beach Volleyball team with her, and I want to go pro. Other than sports, I could not give a single fucking shit about university. If I wanted to pay for it, I could. I have the money," I said bluntly, "It is a waste of money for my future, so I have no other reason to go other than sports teams. So, sure, show my videos to scouts; I don't mind offers, but," I shrugged, "A lot of track events bring in outsiders, and I have enough money, or I can make enough money to raise in the ranks outside universities and colleges."

Mr. Trimmers looked at me, shocked, along with Trevor, who started to chuckle, "You know, you're the first kid who told me to do whatever I wanted. If I don't give you an offer you don't like, you don't give a fuck and will turn it down. You know that is what you basically just said to me?" Trevor asked, amused.

"The truth can hurt?" I replied, not knowing what he wanted me to say.

"ANGLEA!" Mr. Trimmers got over his shock and yelled.

"What?" I asked, "My original plan was to get a scholarship for my perfect grades. As an Intersex woman, I qualify for so many it makes my head spin."

"She is right," Trevor said. "I will be blunt with you then, Angela. I am not a scout; I am the scout who points out the potential to the actual scouts. There are too many people to look all over the county, so I am one of the people coaches can contact for this area to get you potentially seen by a scout. Although, I do have another business, and that is a scout not for other scouts, but for MMA fighting."

"Oh," I replied surprised.

"You said you fight?" Trevor asked, and I shrugged, "I want to see."

"Angela, you don't have to fight for him if you don't want to. In fact, I don't like that he is asking you. But I will not push away an opportunity for you," Mr. Trimmers said. "Honestly, you might want to wait. You just did a ten thousand-meter run in thirty-three minutes."

"What?" Trevor said, looking at Mr. Trimmers, "Are you serious?"

"Holy shit, Angela, were you going your fastest speed?" Mr. Trimmers asked.

"Um, I could have gone faster; I could probably cut down at least two minutes right now, I think, by cutting down running and adding in more sprinting. I was just enjoying myself, but I am not too sure. Why?"

"Because you just ran ten kilometers and are nearing Olympian-level running. In fact, there are some countries that don't have runners as fast as you in the ten thousand meters. Also, I am thinking men, I would have to look up women's."

"The man is twenty-six minutes and forty seconds, so twenty-seven, and the woman is twenty-eight. If you say you can mark down at least two minutes, that means if you can mark it down another three minutes, you add world record level if not already potentially gold, silver, or bronze medal finishing."

I was blown away by what he was saying. "Okay?" I asked, too stunned to sound smart. 

"Angela, are you willing to do more running?" Mr. Trimmers said, "I think if we work on your starting, we can cut down at least twenty seconds and optimize your changes in sprinting and running. We can instead maximize your speed for ten thousand meters. That way, you will be exhausted at the end of your run but have the maximum speed for the duration."

"I have always run for stamina?" I replied stupidly.

"Then now is the time to optimize the stamina you've built."

"Okay," I said, still feeling dumb at the time. I never really thought to time myself because it did not matter. Why would you time yourself if you're just running for yourself? I mean, now that I think about it, I could come up with a bunch of reasons, but still. 

"Angela, can I put you in the ring with someone to fight?"

"Only at my Sensei's gym," I replied, quickly turning to Trevor. "Can you both slow down? I am feeling a bit overwhelmed at the moment," I finally said, feeling lost.

It was like someone had just told you that you had won the lottery through your own effort. I did not know what to do. "Okay, Mr. Trimmers, I am going to go to my gym; I need to cool off. Trevor, if you want to have me fight someone, come with me." I said, "I can use a fight to center myself and work out."

"To center yourself?"

"Yeah," I replied bluntly.

I walked to my weights, put them on, and walked back to the school. I felt lost and giddy. I started to chuckle, and Trevor followed behind me. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"To get my shit, I am going to call my sensei." I blankly walked into the gym. My mind was kind of skipping as I grabbed my backpack and then left back out to Trevor, walking up to me after talking a bit longer to Mr. Trimmers. "Can you run?" I asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Because we are a bit of a run away," I said, putting my backpack on my back. "You have a fighter lined up?" I asked, "Ready to know where to go?"

"Um, Actually,  I do know a guy," Trevor said.

I then told him the address of Sensei's gym. "Tell them to go there; they have twenty minutes to forty minutes. I have other shit I need to do." I told him.

"You know, people want me around."

"And I don't care. Fighting is not something I am that interested in going professional in. If you want to see how I fight, join me; if not," I shrugged, "I haven't seen my Sensei in over a week. I need to talk to him."

I watched as he called someone, told them Sensei's address, and ended the call by saying, "Be prepared; you're facing someone who I might be scouting. Be on your A game."

As he talked to whomever, I called Sensei, who he picked up quickly. "Angela, my favorite student. You have not been around lately."

"I have been busy, Sorry Sensei. I am coming over in ten; I need the ring. Some scout guy wants to record me fighting someone. I don't really care about MMA, but I respect the self-defense you have taught me, Sensei. Plus, I could use the fight to keep me on my toes and to fight against someone new."

"That is a wise choice, Angela. I will be preparing the ring for you. See you shortly."

With that, I did not wait any longer, and I started to jog, where Trevor started to keep pace and then moved into a run. Trevor seemed to be in good shape and stuck with me. Just as I was about to go into a sprint, "Please don't sprint," he said, huffing a bit, "I am not that fast."

I controlled my breathing, and after a bit of a run, we reached my Sensei's gym, which I promptly walked into.

"Angela?" I heard a voice I had not heard in a while. "Are you not supposed to be at school?" the voice said, and I turned to see Iban coming from Sensei's office. 

My smile brightened, and I quickly moved forward and hugged Iban. "Iban, it's good to see you. How have things been treating you?"

"Got married," He said with a massive grin, and I felt my face twist. 

"And you did not invite me?!" I said, sounding horrified, "I thought we were close!"

"Oh Fuck off, Angela, we both know you would have picked a fight."

"You're Right," I grinned, replying and continued the joke, "Now get in the fucking ring, Iban, You and me, right now. You're not like that prick, Juan, who dodges all the time." I snapped in good humor.

"Well, who is the guy behind you?" Iban asked, chuckling at my humor. I turned to the strawberry-blonde dude behind me.

"Oh, Some scout wants to see me fight." I said, "Said he sent someone to come here to fight me."

"Ah, Sounds like an opportunity, Angela. I have a kid on the way, So I envy you, but I am quitting fighting."

"What?!" I exclaimed, "Quitting fighting, Iban. Are you going to continue to come around?' I asked, worried.

"He has married the nice girl," Sensei suddenly said, walking out with a short little redhead not more than an inch taller than five feet tall and looking very pregnant. "Angela, meet Iban's new wife, Carla."

"Nice to meet you, Angela. Iban did not tell me he knew such a bombshell blonde."

"Ah, that is because they think of me as a gym bro. Just with much bigger tits than they have," I said, making Iban and Carla laugh. After making her laugh, I smiled at her, "Nice to meet you; Iban is a great guy. Glad to see he met someone as beautiful as you."

"You are just as he described. You are wearing a lot of weights on you. Interesting," Carla said, and I grinned.

Before I could talk to Carla any further, Sensei interrupted. "Who is that with you, Angela?" Sensei asked, turning my attention away from Carla.

"A scout looking to see me fight. He and my coach, Mr. Trimmers, recorded me running, and later, we were going to get him a recording of me playing volleyball. But apparently, he has more say in MMA fighting."

"Your Ground game precludes you from that." Iban quipped, making me glare at him.

"I can work on it," I snapped back.

"Not if you don't work on your flexibility, Angela. It is the one thing I have ever seen you shy away from." Sensei interjected, and I pouted.

There was a reason I hated working on flexibility. It was that it did not feel like running or weight lifting. It was slow, boring, and took longer. "I—" I sighed, "I understand, Sensei. Anyway, it is not like I really care about joining MMA. This guy wanted to see me fight, and I could use a fight."

"Such is the reason for many friendly fights. Iban is retiring, though. You will not be able to push him into the ring. He has been working on himself and got a nice job in plumbing."

I glared at Iban, looking him up and down before smiling. "Plumbing is one of the trades I would have picked, Iban. Good job. Following after me makes your Gym Bro proud of you," I said, pretending I had a tear in my eye to tease him.

"Fuck off, Angela. You are no mere eighteen-year-old. You have been obsessively training for a future you never believe will happen. Your job prospects have been something you have discussed at length with each of us. No matter what job I would have picked in the trades, you have talked about the pros and cons to length. You know, Tyler is thinking of being an Elevator repairman because of you?" Iban pointed out then his eyes narrowed at me, "Along with that, your body is hiding so much fucking muscle. How much weight is on your body now?" Iban asked curiously as he sidetracked himself.

"I got up to Two Hundred and forty pounds!" I exclaimed happily accepting the change in subject. "I might want to increase it soon. Maybe another twenty on each limb?" I said to myself.

"I hear-" I was cut off as suddenly I heard someone call out behind me. 

"Trevor!" I heard a voice call out, making me turn to see a guy roughly five eleven or shorter with tattoos on his face walk in. The guy had a strong-looking jaw and was in a leather bomber and jeans. I could see the tank top under it, and the guy's muscles looked ripped.

"Ah, Mercier," Trevor said, "This is Angela. I want you to fight her. I will pay my usual scouting fee for a tryout, and I will double it if she is more than you can handle."

"Works for me, although punching out a big-breasted blonde bombshell is not my normal thing." Mercier said, looking me up and down, "Woah, you are a bombshell, though. You are packing serious missiles there; I might just explode from looking at you."

I sneered and then grinned, "Wow, you can cum just from looking. I wonder if you even have the stamina to make it into the ring?" I mocked his word choice, then Mercier looked pissed.

"Fuck you, blonde bimbo bitch," Mercier snapped.

Sensei jumped in quickly before things escalated, "Come, Angela, let's get you geared up."

"Put on proper protection, Mercier. I do not want you to have your bodily fluids all over the mat," I yelled out as I walked away, chuckling to myself. I heard Clara giggling with Iban, who was laughing.

"Getting into their head is good, Angela, but never take it too far," Sensei advised, and I nodded.

"Yes, Sensei."