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 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 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.
