Overexertion

Your instructions were simple.

"Be warmed up when I arrive home tonight. I want you to be undressed at the door- on your knees, red, glistening with sweat. I want your cock ready." I received the text mid-day at work and found myself distracted the rest of the day.

A few weeks back I told you about how I was turned on by exercise. The increased awareness of my body, the blood pumping, the endorphin rush- all seem to heighten whatever arousal I might already have. After brief discussion, you said you had a plan to get me in the best shape of my life.

I arrived home at 5 pm, knowing you would be back between 6:30 and 7. I gave myself a few minutes to put my work things away and change my clothes, then immediately headed out for a quick jog to get warmed up. The sun was still out so the summer heat hadn't quite dissipated, so beads of sweat began to form almost immediately. After twenty minutes I was red, drenched in sweat. I knew this is what you wanted and headed inside to stretch, undress and get my cock ready. It only took a few strokes to get it firm and erect. Now it is 6:25 pm.

I wait at the door, on my knees, eagerly anticipating your arrival. After about ten minutes my knees begin to get sore and the sweat starts to slow down. So, at 6:38 when I hear you begin to open the door, I feel a mixture of relief and apprehension. I take a few deep breaths as you step inside.

At first, it's as if I'm not there. You hang up your keys and drop your bookbag on the table without giving me a second glance. I feel a single throb go through my erection.

Finally, you walk over and begin to slowly circle me, as if to evaluate my physical condition. You run your hands over my shoulders and bring them around front to tweak my nipples and I let another breath out.

You lower yourself and give a light bite on my ear, then I hear you whisper, "You did as you were told and were ready for me. Good boy. If you continue to do as you're told, you might be rewarded when I'm done with you. But don't think that means I'm going to go easy on you."

I look into your eyes and whisper "Understood, mistress."

You circle around to my front and run your hands over my abs, slowly working down to my cock. Your fingers lightly graze my shaft and my pelvis gives a small, involuntary jerk, and you pull away.

"Before you've started? I don't think so. Let's get started on those abs. Come to the livingroom."

I follow you in and see our exercise mat is already laid out. A small assortment of instruments lie on the coffee table- I try not to focus on them.

You instruct me to lie on my back with my hands behind my head, and I oblige. I look straight up, awaiting your instructions.

"You have your own routine and I respect that, but I intend on pushing you in new ways," you state plainly. "Bring your legs apart a little more and raise your pelvis."

I was expecting you to begin me on situps, so this instruction confuses me until I feel your cold hands begin to work their way towards my ass. You squirt lube onto your hands and begin to work my hole. I struggle to keep my pelvis in the air. After a minute of warmup, I feel you press something against me.

"This is going to remain inside you until I decide to take it out."

You slowly work the butt plug into me and I feel an immediate fullness. It's unfamiliar, but incredible nonetheless. My focus begins to wane.

"Fifty crunches."

I begin the crunches and every time I make my downward movement I feel it rub against my prostate. By the time I get to my twentieth crunch I am moaning.

"Slower."

I slow my crunches down and it is agonizing. My abs begin to burn, I am sweating, and my cock is throbbing.

I reach my forty-ninth crunch and you instruct me to hold it. I hold myself up, panting heavily, and suddenly I feel your hands grip my shaft. I look down and see you crouched next to me, wordlessly holding my cock, without moving. The stimulation is enough to drive me crazy but not enough to get me off.

"Okay, crunches are done. Plank time- in position."

I lower myself down from my last crunch and turn over into plank position. The tip of my cock brushes against the ground in the most tantalizing way.

"Oh, one more thing." I feel you reach around me and a sudden, painful pressure on my nipples as you clamp them. "You won't want to finish this plank until I decide you are done."

My muscles begin to quake. I don't know how long I hold myself in the plank, but it feels like an eternity. After a little while I feel you begin to twist the butt plug and I close my eyes, unable to think about anything else.

"I thought I made it clear I wasn't going to go easy on you" I hear as a sudden, sharp pain goes across my bottom. Of course, a riding crop was sitting on the table.

At this point I collapse on the floor and shout out as the nipple clamps dig in to me.

"You were trying to get yourself off by rubbing against the floor, AND you were losing form. That won't do. Stand up."

I stand up- nipple clamps still on, butt plug still in place, a single red streak across my ass. I'm covered in sweat and beginning to leak precum.

"Get into a nice, low squat. Hands behind your head, I won't be having you trying to play with yourself." I hear you say and I have no choice but to do as I'm told. "Now about how long are you typically able to hold a squatting position?"

"About two and a half minutes, mistress."

"Ever done two and a half minutes in these circumstances?" you ask, still holding up the riding crop.

"No mistress."

"Since you've been good otherwise I think ten strikes is enough, so long as you don't lose your squatting form- does that sound fair?"

"Yes mistress."

You lay down a strike before I'm ready and I realize holding my form will not be as easy as I thought. Then a second strike, shortly followed by a third.

"Only forty-five seconds in and you're shaking? Poor thing. I thought you were in reasonable shape."

I hold my breath and close my eyes to brace myself for the next blow and it doesn't come for what feels like forever. Just as I start to relax, another one comes.

"One minute left. I wonder, should I spread these swats out, or do I leave them to the end? Decisions, decisions." You caress my ass with the riding crop and it stings the welts.

"Whatever you please, mistress," I breathe.

"Good answer."

My legs burn and sweat rolls down my face as I focus on breathing and holding the position. Finally, the fifth strike comes. Then the sixth and seventh. A long pause follows and I know I won't be able to hold the position much longer. The eighth strike comes, harder than the rest, quickly followed by the ninth, which felt even stronger than the eighth. At this point I am groaning, barely holding on.

The ninth strike isn't what comes next. Instead, I feel the nipple clamps come off and the butt plug removed almost simultaneously. I shout in both pain and ecstasy as I feel my anus throb at the sudden emptiness and the blood rushes to my nipples. Then, at last, I feel the ninth strike across my ass, shortly followed by the tenth.

"You've been a good boy. You may stand up now."

I slowly rise up from the squat, still shaking. That felt longer than two and a half minutes.

"Three minutes and twenty seconds. Lying to make this easier on yourself?"

I shake my head, "no, mistress. I honestly didn't know I could do that."

"Well, you've been a good boy. Let's make a deal. If you can make it through my next challenge, keeping good form, and without cumming, I will get you off however you choose. If you can't keep good form, you can wait to cum until our next successful session. If you can't stop yourself from coming, then I will fuck you in the ass until you scream. If you can't do either, I will ravage you in the ass every day until you are able to successfully get through a workout without coming. How's that sound?"

"I think that sounds like a great deal, mistress."

"I would hope so, as I wasn't planning on giving you any other choice. Now, next challenge is simple- forty pushups."

Forty pushups sounds easy, but I know you have something a little more sinister in mind. I get myself into pushup position.

You put your hand around my shaft, then whisper, "begin."

I begin to do the pushups. Your hand remains in the same position so any time I lower or lift myself, my cock is further stimulated. Move too fast, and I might make myself come. Move too slowly, and my muscles begin to scream at me. It's an impossible predicament and you know it.

I reach twenty-five with few problems, but it becomes increasingly more difficult as you tighten your grip and begin to move against my movements, furthering the stimulation. I continue to breathe deeply. I reach thirty five pushups and now you are pumping your hands harder and harder. I know I am about to burst.

"Mistress, I'm going to come. Please have mercy."

"Well, you'll just have to deal with the consequences, won't you?"

Thirty six. I pant heavily. Thirty seven. My stomach begins to clench. Thirty eight. I gasp and my cock throbs. This is the end. Thirty nine. I come. I try to keep myself up, hoping to at least get the last pushup in and avoid the extra anal punishment. No such luck, I collapse on the floor- panting, muscles throbbing, covered in sweat, spent from the orgasm.

"Well, well, well. Looks like we didn't quite make it," you whisper mockingly. I hear a slight clang as you grab your strap on. I don't even look around to see how big it is. "I think we'll do this right here, right at the site of your failure, right on top of your own pile of cum."

I don't respond, I just close my eyes and prepare myself as I feel you press the tip of your lubed dildo against my opening.