Body Builder’s Task Ch. 04
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If I said helping Gail “train” Rufus for his next big body building competition was no fun, I’d be as big a liar as that louse of a husband of mine, who swore as he made love to me that I was the only woman for him, while he was banging the brains out of his secretary.
Gail was an inventive dominatrix, who delighted in dreaming up new ways to make his training “fun for us all”. Given his hugely masochistic drive, I’m sure it was some fun for the gloriously-built 25-year-old, but surely nowhere near as good as it was for Gail and me.
Rufus was given a torrid two-hour work-out in their small, but well-equipped gym each morning. Gail, whose magnificent body belied her 40 years, and I, each wore a little black leather Muir cap and on our hands we had gleaming black leather gloves, much like golf gloves, which served as great grippers for the two-foot long leather lashes we used during our slave’s training.
We also wore black high-heeled shoes, but nothing else! Gail said the sight of the caps, gloves and shoes would serve to arouse him, as would our naked bouncing breasts and smooth-shaven pussies. She was right – despite the fact that he would heft quite large weights during his pumping iron sessions, Rufus nearly always displayed a semi-hard-on, sometimes even a stunning erection, displaying his mighty nine-and-a-half inch “chocolate log” as Gail referred to it. I never did – it was all right for a lovely black woman to use that phrase, but I thought it might be racist if I used it.
Rufus would work away in the nude, his body soon gleaming with sweat as he pumped iron, and Gail and me laying into him with cuts of our crops across his hugely whippable buttocks. After a while, we would tire of our sport and then we’d throw our caps off and lie down on a thick rubber “training mat” arrayed in front of our victim.
Then Gail and I would kiss each others mouths, breasts, pussies and arses as we writhed and wriggled on the rubber, while Rufus, still doing his work-out would look down at us with lust in his eyes and a hard-on at his cock. It must have been exquisite agony for him to “slave away” – pardon the pun – with his weights routine while his wife and her next-door neighbour girl friend were going at it on the mat.
Later in his training session he would have to perform sit-ups while we controlled him with our lashes, sometimes making him drink from his “Coke” bottle. But also, during this muscle-straining exercise, Gail and I would take time off to perform on the mat, which we always carefully placed directly in front of him so as to be in his line of sight.
In the afternoons, Gail and I usually “worked out” on her large bed upstairs, while at the foot of the bed, Rufus would have to perform a great many sit-ups, heaving and panting away as he did so, this time our writhing bodies hidden from his view. But he would still be able to hear quite clearly our cries and shouts of delight. Gail and I were a very vocal pair of lovers!
Then, after doing a long series of press-up “reps”, Gail would bark “Sit ups, slave!” and Rufus would change position, but not the strain on his superbly-chiselled and beautifully brown body.
At the end of the afternoon, Gail would always sit up, look down on his perspiring figure and say: “Time for a fuck, slave. Would you like to fuck Christel?”
Rufus would always answer in the affirmative, and then Gail would make him beg urfa escort me, by licking and kissing at my moist pussy until I “relented” and allowed him to mount my 38-year-old trim body.
As he made love to me in the missionary position, his wife would always stand by the bed, crop in hand, giving him the odd cut across his heaving, straining and sweating buttocks. And always, Rufus was not permitted to ejaculate inside me. He was always forced to jerk himself off on my belly, his hand going like a pneumatic drill’s hammer as he completed his sexual exercise.
“There,” Gail would say, at the conclusion of his panting performance, “nothing like a good, old-fashioned fuck to work off some calories and keep a man in shape, eh Rufus?” Then she would make him lick up the result of his efforts before being ordered into the shower to clean up.
Gail, for her part, would always go down on me after I had been fucked by Rufus. “I always find the aroma from a woman’s pussy after she’s enjoyed a nice cock the most magnificent minge smell,” she would say. And then I would have my orgasm as she performed her brilliant brand of cunnilingus on my snatch. Needless to say, it would then be my lovely task to bring her to climax.
All this went on for about three or four weeks, and then Gail announced that we could no longer use the crop on her much younger husband’s glorious arse.
“Why?” I cried in disappointment, “has he decided he no longer wants to be our slave? Or has he lost that lovely masochistic streak altogether – have we whipped it out of him?”
Gail laughed a broad-beamed smile at me. “No, darling, he’s as much a muff-licking masochist as ever,” she assured me.
“But we must have his flesh in a totally virgin state for next month’s competition,” she said, adding that it was his first foray into “the first division of body building contests”.
It appeared that Rufus was entered for the Mr Great Body of Britain contest to be staged in some giant indoor arena in Manchester, and tell tale stripes on his lovely bare bum would not be a good signal to send to the judges or the audience.
“What a pity,” I said, feeling miffed that I would no longer be able to whip his arse with Gail while he panted naked and semi-erect in front of us.
“Yep, it’s a shame, so we’ll have to come up with some more subtle ways of inflicting our authority and superiority over him, darling,” said Gail, passing me a large glass of chilled chardonnay.
“Have you any idea what?” I asked, deferring as usual to my senior domina.
“Sure have, Christel,” said the 40-year-old. “We’ll give him some mild cock and ball torture while he’s working out. Nothing that will leave marks, of course, but some nice little testicle teasing will keep his mind occupied on our dominance and it won’t be at all evident to those people at the contest.”
The next day, we started our insidious testicle torture regime. When Rufus was naked and ready to start pumping iron, Gail stepped up to him and placed a leather engorgement strap around his thick, circumcised cock and ball bag. Below the strap ran a short length of leather and then a sort of black tube.
Dragging his balls down from their position under his superb cock, Gail snapped the tube so it encircled a thin length of flesh, but left his balls bunched in a tight, taut sac of dark brown skin below his balıkesir escort rapidly rising penis.
“There,” she said, standing back to admire her handiwork. “Now he’s perfectly placed for a little bit of a testicles-training session, eh sweetie?” and she gave him a slow kiss on his mouth.
Rufus, it was immediately apparent to me, was extremely apprehensive. He almost whimpered as he begged his wife “Not the pencil, please darling, I can’t stand the pencil.”
Gail replied to his pleading with a chuckle. “Oh come on, Rufus,” she said, “don’t be such a fucking spoilsport. Christel’s never seen you undergo a bit of pencil punishment, and you don’t want to ruin her morning, do you?”
Rufus looked as if he would be absolutely delighted to “ruin” my morning, but he lowered his lovely dark brown eyes and muttered: “No darling, I’m sorry, darling.”
Gail, who was leather-gloved, Muir-capped and high-heeled, as I was in our “domination” uniform, then produced a pencil, about six inches long and with a bright white rubber eraser about an inch long at the end.
Pulling up two stools to sit just in front of him, Gail then ordered Rufus to get started on his weight pumping. “OK, Christel, now this little bit of torment always has to take place with our slave erect. Would you mind doing the honours, while I play with this pencil?”
I nodded eagerly. Although there was no way I could “deep throat” the almost 10-inch-long erection which Rufus sported when he was fully aroused, sucking on his lovely log was a sport I had long grown accustomed to.
Taking his pre-cum dripping prick in one hand I ran my tongue over his sticky smeared helmet and started to suck on his manhood. Rufus gave out a groan of pleasure as I got him to a vein-popping hard-on, then Gail flicked the pencil’s eraser against his tightly-bunched balls.
Rufus let out a high-pitched shriek, a sort of “Aaaargh” as the pencil hit home, his muscles tensing and shuddering from the effects of the assault.
Gail looked at me: “Suck on his cock again, darling, then when it’s like a stick of Blackpool rock again pull back and I’ll know it’s time to repeat the dose!”
Once more I took his lovely big prick in my mouth and sucked on it. Rufus reacted with an almost instant re-erection and again Gail inflicted the pencil punishment on his imprisoned balls – this time, I suspect, on the other testicle. Her action drew another gargled “Aaargh” from her husband-victim.
This game continued for some time, as Rufus obediently hefted his weights while I alternated between Gail’s blows with the eraser by sucking his cock back to a full, fruity hard-on.
Later, Rufus enjoyed his push-ups on the punishment bench, minus any flagellatory assistance from us. We were too busy working out ourselves on the training mat to take much notice of him, to be honest.
In the afternoon he again underwent a short session of cock and ball torture from Gail, before performing sit-ups and press-ups, while his wife and I enjoyed steamy, noisy sex on their marital bed.
His training concluded, as it invariably did, with his wonderfully muscled body lying on mine and pumping away until he was forced to withdraw and pump his seed onto my belly and breasts. His next task, following that indignity, was to lick all traces of his semen from my body before going to shower. trabzon escort Then it would be Gail’s turn to enjoy my extremely aroused pussy.
Then it was the week-end of the competition. We booked into a very nice hotel, I had an adjoining room to Rufus and Gail and on the Saturday, Rufus won his weight division, I think it was middleweight, but these things are all a bit beyond me, or my interest.
Gail and Rufus were delighted. “This means he qualifies for the grand final of Mr Great Body of Britain,” said Gail, clapping her hands in delight, as we watched Rufus accept his trophy, clad only in a lovely little red satin posing outfit which almost disguised the fact that he was hung like a small horse.
The next day, Rufus, his body oiled and gleaming in the strong lights of the stage went through a “pose off” with the other muscle men. Some of them looked like hunks, some didn’t interest me in the slightest.
Rufus though, looked sexy in a dark-brown sort of way. I looked around at the women in the audience, clapping and whistling as Rufus did his “solo spot” in the pose off. I wondered if any of them had any idea of what sort of training regimen the lovely 25-year-old underwent?
Then came the results. Some chap called Marcus was third, a blonde-haired Adonis by the name of Sylvan was second and – first and Mr Great Body of Britain was none other than Rufus. I thought Gail was going to wet herself she was hugging and kissing me so tight. I think I did!
Later, back in the hotel, Gail and I enjoyed a wonderful session, and in the end we lay back and allowed a naked and stiff-pricked body builder to join us. Rufus lay on his back, I straddled his erection and sank my smooth quim onto it, while Gail squatted over his face and then sat on it.
We pressed our breasts against each other and smooched, until I enjoyed a lovely climax on the stiff-cocked Mr Great Body of Britain, while Gail wasn’t far behind me on his face.
Back home a few weeks later, Gail told me that a reporter and a cameraman had turned up from Bodacious Bodies, The Beautiful Body Builders Bible. The magazine’s readers had seen pictures of Rufus taken at the Mr Great Body of Britain contest and had voted him as “The man with the arse we’d most like to spank!”
It was about another month when Gail rang me and said in an excited voice: “Come on over, the mag’s arrived.”
I’d forgotten all about Bodacious Bodies but Gail had the magazine open to the relevant pages. She was sitting on her bed, propped up by several large satin-covered pillows. She was naked and I was more interested in her than Rufus and his spankable buns, but I got undressed and joined her.
Gail passed me the article. There, in all his bare-buttocked glory, was Rufus displaying that sensational arse, totally naked, not even a little strap of a posing pouch or thong running between his arse cheeks.
Then there was an interview by BB (for Bodacious Bodies) with our man. Much of it was crap about his pumping iron and his diet, but at the end was the point Gail wanted me to read.
BB: And tell our readers, Rufus, to what do you attribute this sensational rise in the body building ranks?
Rufus: Well, it’s all to do with my new training and exercise programme as laid down by my two lovely personal trainers, my wife, Gail, and her friend – oops, make that our friend – Christel. I owe it all to them, they’ve really whipped me into shape, as it were.
BB: Sounds fascinating.
Rufus: Well, they’re a real pair of slave drivers, I can tell you.
BB: And could you tell us something about the new programme your “slave drivers” provide you, Rufus?
Rufus (chuckles): Sure I could, but then I’d have to kill you!
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