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Body Builder's Task Ch. 01

By: adoration



I was intrigued by the new neighbours. Both were black, nothing wrong with that. But the husband, Rufus, was – as I found out later, of course – 25 while his wife, Gail, was 40. When I say they were black, Rufus was a very light chocolate colour. Gail, a busty lady, was deep brown. Lovely – the sight of both of them made me wet.

The day after they moved in I introduced myself. I'm Christel, and I'm 38, pert 34-inch breasts – but they're DD cups, so they are, thank heavens, a nice mouthful. I wear my blonde hair short, almost like a crew cut on my head, and much, much shorter down there. OK, there's just a landing strip on my mons, the rest is shaved.

I'm separated. My cheating tramp of a husband moved out to shack up with his tramp of a secretary, a cute little 18-year-old. Now she's ditched him for an older woman and there's no way he's getting back into my bed. His secretary, on the other hand, well, she's more than welcome.

But back to Rufus and Gail. A couple of days after introducing myself, I was in my rear upstairs bedroom tidying up and when I looked across I could see directly down into their lounge. There, with the curtains wide, were Rufus and Gail humping like there was no tomorrow. I guess they didn't realise I could see down on them.

Anyway, what I'm getting around to, isn't the fact that Rufus was playing hide the sausage with his hugely attractive big black wife, it was the fact that he was obviously a body builder.

I don't know about you, but I have a thing about body builders. The way their muscles ripple, the glow they give off when they're posing, their oiled pecs, their thighs, their little posing thongs! I just want to finger myself thinking about it!

There is another thing about body builders and that's the common fallacy that they have tiny little cocks. But I'll get around to that later!

Anyway, I watched for a while and then the phone rang and I had to dash into my bedroom to answer it. One pleading, begging hubby. I soon told him where he could take his over-sexed prick and shove it, but not without one final, irresistible parting shot: "And by the way, how is young Monique?" Yeah, you guessed it, she's his fucking secretary! Only, now he's not fucking her any more!

By the time I'd got back into the spare room, there was no sign of my new neighbours. The next day, I was watching again when I saw Gail drive out of their carport. Soon afterwards, Rufus emerged into the sunshine and started to work on hand weights in their garden. He was wearing a pair of cut off jeans and he looked good enough to eat!

I slipped into a pair of high heels, checked out my sexy little red shorts and white T-shirt, dabbed some lipstick on, then almost ran out into my back yard.

"Hi Rufus, working out?" I announced, somewhat obviously when I reached the waist high hedge separating us.

The gorgeous athlete put down his weights and grinned. "Hi, Christel, yeah, catching up on some exercise," he replied, his body covered in a thin sheen of perspiration.

"That's a nice body you've got there," I said, again somewhat obviously, but he accepted the compliment.

"It's taken a lot of hard work to get it looking this good," the brown-eyed handsome man said, somewhat proudly.

"Yeah, I bet," I said, then plunged into the reason for my arrival: "You look so strong, I was wondering if you could help me with a little lifting job I've got upstairs?"

He smiled and with one hand on the top of the fence he vaulted athletically across it and stood near me. He smelt of sweat and Envy by Gucci! "Lead on," he said.

I turned and wiggling my tush as seductively as I knew how – and hey, it's a great-looking arse, OK? – walked inside and up the stairs to my bedroom.

Rufus looked puzzled when I turned to face him. "Where's the lifting job?" he asked.

"Here," I said, planting my feet firmly. "I'd like you to lift me onto the bed!"

OK, it was the corniest pick-up line in the world – pick up, get it? OK, sorry, awful pun.

But Rufus wasn't upset by my outrageous display of wanton desire. In fact, he grinned. "Fair enough, Christel, but first do you want to check out that I'm up to the task?"

I smiled. "I'd love to, but you're rather over dressed. How about getting rid of those shorts before I check you out," I suggested. I figured if I was going to use a pick-up line like that, I'd be totally brazen.

Rufus grinned again, displaying oh-so-perfect teeth. "Sure, but if I get rid of these shorts I'll only be wearing one garment, my thong. How about you getting stripped down to one item of clothing as well?"

It was my turn to smile. "Fair enough – and then we'll be a perfect match, because I'm wearing a thong, too," I told him, before peeling off my T-shirt and stepping out of my shorts. I saw him eying my boobs and my little black satin thong.

"Nice tits," he said, while sliding his cut-offs down to his ankles and kicking them away, to reveal a shiny, red satin thong.

"Nice package," I responded, looking with interest on his pleasure pack.

"OK, Christel, check me out," he said, and went into one of those muscle-rippling body builder's poses for me.

I stepped forward and ran my fingers lightly over his lovely shoulders, feeling the smooth skin. Then down his chest to his pecs, the nipples dark brown and erect. Next I checked out his abs – yeah, like a washboard, as they say.

"Turn around," I whispered, trying hard to contain the excitement in my voice.

He did and I saw the most magnificent set of beautiful round buns, gleaming chocolate brown. I stroked them, feeling my nipple-hard breasts brushing against his bare back.

"You're wonderful," I told him, as he turned back to face me, "but there's just one more muscle I need to check. OK?"

Rufus grinned, which I took to indicate permission, so I pulled the top of his thong down and his cock sprang from the garment's confines. It was then that I realised the old saying that body builders have small cocks was exactly that – a lot of cock!

A mighty, brown stick popped into sight, the pink helmet of his circumcised cock shiny in the light, its tip nearly grazing his navel. I tugged the thong completely down to reveal a large pair of heavy balls. He was totally shaved.

"Well, Christel," he announced, "now you've checked me out, do you think I'm right for that lifting job?"

I nodded. "You're absolutely perfect for what I had in mind," I said, stroking his erection. "What is it – 10 inches?"

Rufus laughed. "Hardly, darling, a mere nine and a half," he said, but there was that hint of pride again.

Then he changed the subject. "Christel, now I'm not wearing my thong, how about you take yours off, too – lighten the lifting load, eh?"

I was out of my thong in a flash and it had hardly hit the floor, than Rufus had his strong hands around my waist and was lifting me up into the air. I'm not heavy, but I'm well-built, so I'm not exactly light, either, but Rufus had me up there as if I was a feather.

My heart was thumping as he hoisted me until my pussy was directly opposite his face and then, when his tongue flickered along my sex trench I thought I was going to wet myself!

But my body builder then lowered me to the floor, spun me gently around and once more hoisted me up into the air. This time I felt his tongue flashing against my buttocks before landing like a flick of a feather on my anus.

Rufus then turned to face the bed and lowered me until my feet were on the mattress. With a push, he had me onto my belly, then he was on me, flicking me over and guiding his cock straight up my sopping wet cunt. I kissed him greedily on the mouth – then froze.

There, at the still open bedroom door, stood Gail. "And just what the fuck do you think you're doing, Rufus?"

She marched into the room, clad in a pair of gleaming black leather jeans, a white blouse and a black leather bolero jacket. She was stunningly attractive, but she was also pissed!

"I'm, er, I'm," Rufus began, but she cut him off swiftly.

"Oh shut the fuck up, while I get ready. And while I'm doing that, get Christel up on top, you fuckin' sex maniac," she snapped.

Rufus grabbed my buttocks, then spun me until he was beneath me. While he was doing this, Gail was shucking off her blouse, jacket, jeans and high heels until she was stark naked. Her breasts were heavy and high slung, possibly 40 inches, the nipples huge and hard, the areolae the largest I'd ever set eyes on. At her pussy, the dark hair had been shaved back into a crinkly crew cut. Her severe, short-cut jet black hair added to her look of absolute hauteur.

"Right," she announced, "two's company but three's a fuckin' orgy. Christel, get up on your knees, sit up on him."

I obeyed, her tone was so imperious I never thought about arguing. Gail climbed up onto the bed, allowing me a clear view of her large pink piss flaps glistening at her black snatch.

Rufus raised his arms and steadied his wife as she lowered her pussy onto his mouth. Gail grinned at me, then leaned forward and ran her mouth across my 34-inch boobs, which seemed very insignificant to me now, in view of her massive melons.

"So, Christel," she smiled, as she worked her pussy around on Rufus's obviously hard-at-work tongue, "you fancy a bit of chocolate log, do you?"

I resumed humping on her husband's huge hard-on. "Well, actually, what turns me on about him is his body builder physique," I confessed.

"And why do you think he fancies you, darling?" asked my interrogator. "Your beautiful boobs – they're very nice by the way. Your big blue eyes? Your tight little cunt?"

I had the good grace not to blush, but I laughed: "A combination of all three, maybe, Gail?"

Gail graunched around on her husband's face, before responding: "No, none of the above. What turns him on is an older woman. I'm 40, how old are you?"

"I'm 38," I told her.

"And do you know why he's turned on by older women, my dear?" said Gail, continuing with her inquisition.

"No idea," I replied, totally honestly.

"It's because he knows they can boss him around. He knows they can be domineering. He knows they can dominate. You gettin' my drift, baby?" the strongly-built stunner asked me.

"Er, yes, I think I do," I replied, not absolutely certain. "He's, er, you mean he's a submissive?"

Gail roared with laughter. "A submissive? My dear Christel, he's a fuckin' slave!"

I was still taking in her words, when Gail snapped: "OK, Rufus. Get out of your new friend, get away from my pussy, get your fuckin' thong and cut-offs on, get home and get into the play room. I'll be over to deal with you later!"

Then Rufus, my beautifully-built body builder fuck was out of me, his face pulled away from his wife's dark pussy, and he was out of the bedroom like a flash.

Gail smiled at me and sat up against the headboard of the bed. "Come here, baby," she ordered, patting a place beside her, "and let me tell you how we're gonna get on together."

I swiftly sat alongside her, feeling her hard black body warm and thrilling against my side. Gail traced a hand across my breasts, then let it slide a path down to my belly. I opened my thighs wide and her hand continued its path on to my pussy, one finger sliding into my still thrilled cunt.

Then her mouth was on mine and we were smooching, and she tasted so lovely. Before I knew it, I was lying on my back and marvelling as Gail's mouth lapped at my dripping snatch, expertly bringing me to a shouting, quivering climax.

After I had calmed down, Gail whispered in my ear: "From now on baby, it's going to be you and me against Rufus. He obviously fancies you, and I fancy you. I know you fancy me."

I kissed her on her pussy-stained mouth. "I guess I do, I can't fake orgasms, Gail, never could," I told her.

She laughed: "I gathered that." Then she stepped off the bed.

"You got any sexy power lingerie?" she asked, as she got dressed again.

"Er, you mean kinky stuff?" I asked.

"Yep," she replied.

"Will this do?" I asked, rummaging in my lingerie drawer and producing a black PVC playsuit. "Shall I model it for you?" Gail nodded, and I pulled on the gleaming garment. My breasts stood up superbly in the cut-out cups. The playsuit shone sexily over my belly, but my pussy was bare as the garment was crotchless. It was cut high at the hips, and my buttocks were uncovered.

"Perfect," said Gail, as she completed dressing. "Now some sexy boots, or high heels?"

"Only high heels, platform things, I can't walk very farm in them, I sort of teeter," I said.

"Perfect again," said Gail. "Now let's go visit my philandering fuckin' husband, shall we?"

I pulled on a large plastic raincoat, which must have looked stupid, given that it was a lovely summer's morning, but what the hell, I was eager to see what Gail had in store for Rufus and I didn't really give a flying fuck what any of the neighbours might think.

Once inside, Gail let me into the lounge, went to the kitchen and returned with two cold glasses of white wine. "I'll just get changed, then we'll have a chat – there's nothing like keeping a slave waiting, it heightens his anticipation," she informed me.

Minutes later, Gail returned. I almost gasped as I took in the picture of female domination she now presented. On her head was a black leather Muir cap, which gleamed in an almost menacing way, if a cap can be menacing.

But it was the garment that supported Gail's superb bazookas which took my breath away. It was an open-fronted corselette, with black laces down its centre. It came to above her hips, its hem was just below her rib cage. The straps which went around her neck pulled her wonderful 40-inch tits into almost gravity-defying uplift.

Gail's pussy and buttocks were bare, but gleaming black boots which came to half-way up her strong, muscular thighs, covered her legs. And if you don't think a Muir cap can be menacing, believe me a pair of leather thigh boots most certainly can!

I passed Gail her glass of wine and stood to plant a long, slow kiss on her mouth. I wanted to go down on her there and then, but she divined my thoughts and laughed, pushing me back onto the couch. "Down girl, we can play later," she smiled.

After draining the glasses, Gail went into the kitchen and replenished them. "Keep him waiting, darling, keep him waiting," she said, handing me my fresh glass.

"How long has he been your slave?" I asked, as we sipped on our chardonnay.

"I gathered he was a slave type on our very first date," she told me, "and on the second date I spanked him and gave him a golden shower. He's been eating out of my pussy ever since!"

"And you're married?" I queried.

Gail nodded. "Sure am. We got married a year ago, when I was still a comparatively young woman of 39. And you?"

"I'm 38 and separated," I told her, giving her the information about my shit of a husband.

Gail listened, then we drained our glasses, and she stood up, towering above me, an absolute picture of femdom. "Let's go punish my body builder, shall we?" she asked.

I didn't need to be asked a second time. We made our way down into the basement beneath the house. As I followed the bare buttocked beauty downstairs, I felt between my thighs and realised I was leaking like a sieve.

This was going to be fun!

To be continued.

Body Builder's Task Ch. 02



Gail swung the door open and allowed me to step into the room. It was smallish but well equipped from what I could see at a glance. The floor was covered in a thick sort of rubber matting, and in one corner of the room four straps were set, obviously for pinning a slave down on the rubber.

A long leather couch was pushed against one wall, a comfy looking easy chair was in a corner. A table on another wall had a large array of implements, obviously used to punish the slave. I had absolutely no idea how some of them would be used, but several looked very devious, indeed.

But that only took a quick glance, because my interest was grabbed by Rufus, who was kneeling naked in the center of the room, his knees quite wide apart, his hands behind him, grasping his ankles. His nine-and-half-inch cock was waving in semi-stiffness.

"Righto, Rufus," Gail announced, walking towards him after she had shut the door, "it's time for your pain and pleasure. I will, as usual, be supplying the pain, Christel here, who you have obviously taken such a liking to, will provide the pleasure."

"Yes, darling," said the 25-year-old, his beautiful body builder's muscles gleaming in the bright strip lighting of the torture chamber.

I stood off to one side and watched as Gail took charge. "Now first you're going to lick her pussy – you'd like to lick her pussy, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, darling, I would," said Gail's husband.

"In fact, I bet you already have, you randy little bastard!" Gail snapped at him.

"Yes, I have darling," the body builder confessed, "but it was only a brief time – just a couple of licks."

Gail stood close, almost hovering over him, her lovely snatch glistening down above his mouth. His cock was now totally rigid.

"Well you're going to perform cunnilingus on this lovely lady, and it's not going to be a couple of licks. The maximum time I'm allowing you there is 10 minutes, the minimum you can bid for is 5 minutes, clear?"

Rufus nodded.

"Right," Gail continued, "the tariff for licking such a lovely pussy as Christel's is 10 strokes a minute. How many minutes do you want?"

Rufus looked across at me, my pussy also bare and, I hoped, not leaking too much!

"I'd like seven minutes, please, darling," said Rufus, eyeing my snatch greedily.

"That's 70 strokes," said his wife. "Why not make it seven and a half minutes, and it will cost you 75 strokes?"

Rufus nodded intently. "Yes, please, Gail, seven and a half minutes would be great."

"OK, my philandering little fucker," said the statuesque, busty black beauty, "let's get you prepared."

Gail went to the table and returned to center stage with a metal spreader bar. Ordering Rufus to his feet, she attached the bar to his ankles, spreading his feet about a yard apart. Gail then positioned him beneath a hook hanging from the ceiling. Her next task was to place his wrists in a pair of rubber handcuffs. The thick, wide strap between each cuff had a hole cut in it. Gail then reached up and grabbed the metal hook and pulled it down, inserting it into the hole in the cuffs.

Next she went to a wheel set in the wall behind her slave's back and started to turn it. As she did the hook went up, lifting his arms higher until his body was stretched, his toes scrambling to maintain contact with the rubber floor. Gail returned and ran her hands over the body builder's now straining muscles, his cock still erect, his marvellous physique gleaming.

"There," she said, "I think that's got him nicely prepared for his first flogging this afternoon. OK, Christel, while I give him his 75 as payment for licking your lovely pussy, you get that stool from the corner over there, and suck on his cock while I do the hard part. And don't allow him to come, OK?"

I nodded: "I understand, Gail."

"And you, Rufus," said his wife, "if you think you're in danger of shooting in Christel's mouth you call out for a stop to the sucking, understood?"

"Understood, darling," said the hanging, suspended slave.

Gail then went to the table holding all the implements of correction and selected a leather flogger, its handle some two feet long, the five or six thongs to the lash about 18 inches long. She swished it through the air, expertly and menacingly and announced: "I'll start on your back, ready Rufus?"

I settled down on the stool and cupped the slave's heavy ball sac.

"Ready, Gail," called the suspended slave and I heard the thongs whistling through the air to land with a "Tissshhh" sound across his stretched flesh.

As soon as I heard the lovely sound the flogger made on his back, I took Rufus's cock in my mouth and began to suck on its sweetness, savouring the tasty pre-cum which was drooling from his piss-and-spunk slit, my hands caressing his beautifully-shaped buns.

As the flogging went up to the 10th stroke, Rufus let out a moan and groaned "Oh, yes, baby, yes", which I took to be either a compliment to my expertise at fellatio, or his wife's expertise at flagellation. Or, possibly, both!

"Hands away, Christel," warned Gail, "I'm going to warm his buttocks now."

I ran my hands down the back of his finely cut thighs and then heard the intoxicating "Tissshhh" sound as the flogger cracked home on his buttocks. Ten strokes fell there, before Gail moved in front of her husband.

Before she announced her next target, Rufus again groaned out an "Oh, yes, baby, yes!" mantra.

"Enjoying that, are you, Rufus?" asked his wife, as I worked my mouth up and down the top half of his rigid pole – there was no way I could take its entire shaft in!

"Yes, baby, yes," he sobbed, as I flicked my tongue around his weeping spunk eyelet.

"Upper chest now, baby," Gail informed her suspended victim and again the flogger landed, making its lovely "Tissshhh" effect as it struck home. While this went on, I replaced my hands on his buttocks, feeling the warmth placed there by the whip. But just as Gail landed the first blow on his heaving chest muscles, the slave cried out "No more, baby, please no more, Christel, I'm nearly coming!"

I pulled back from his quivering cock and looked up and watched with fascination as Gail struck his beautifully built upper chest, the lashes from the flogger leaving faint red stripes across his pectorals. By the time the 10th blow had fallen – making it 30 in all so far – Rufus was writhing in his bonds in delightful but futile attempts to escape the lash.

"Now for your thighs," Gail informed her husband, and I stood up and walked to one side. First the big black beauty delivered 10 cracking blows to his right thigh, then 10 to his left.

"Fifty strokes gone, 25 to go, darling," Gail said. "I'm going to deliver them all in one place – upper back or buttocks, make up your mind!"

Rufus appeared to contemplate, then requested: "My buttocks, please, darling." Gail stepped behind her husband, and as she did so, instructed me: "Suck him some more, Christel, he'll have recovered by now."

I resumed my place in front of his lovely large cock and once more took its mouth-filling girth into my mouth as the flogger picked up its sweet "Tissshhh" sound on his backside.

Finally, as Rufus groaned "Oh, yes, baby" above me, Gail completed her 75-stroke punishment allocation and stepped around to confront her husband.

"Well done, Rufus," she smiled, "not so much sobbing and crying – trying to impress your new girl friend were you?"

Rufus grinned, as Gail began to remove him from his bonds, first lowering the hook to ease him from his strained stance, then removing the spreader bar and cuffs.

"Now it's time for his adoration of your pussy, darling," said Gail, addressing me. "And after that we'll go into negotiations for him fucking you. We'll let him fuck you after performing cunnilingus, because if we don't he'll never be able to get that pathetic little cock of his up."

I had to smile – it was the first time I'd heard a nine-and-a-half inch weapon referred to as a "pathetic little cock" – but I replied: "Good idea, Gail, we don't want to deprive him of his fun, do we?"

Gail laughed: "Oh, he's having plenty of fun, the masochistic little slut, aren't you Rufus?"

Her muscle-rippling partner grinned back: "Yes, I am, my darling."

"Right," said Gail, "into the easy chair, Christel, thighs spread out on the arms and we'll give him his seven and a half minutes of pussy pampering pleasure."

With that, I stepped over to the very comfortable-looking easy chair and settled back in it, thighs splayed wide as suggested by Gail.

"On your knees, slave," said the Amazon beauty, "now crawl over to Christel's pussy and wait till I give the word."

Rufus, his cock swaying beneath him and oozing pre-cum, knelt and crawled to me until his mouth was only a few inches from my sex.

Gail then went to a digital clock standing on a table and punched its display until it read 7:30. Then she hit a button on the top of the timepiece and as the clock counted down to 7.29 called out: "Worship her!"

A hot tongue traced its path over my pussy, starting down at my anus, then onto my weeping cunt, then around my piss flaps, then up to my clit, in a tantalising path of pleasure, certainly for me and, I hoped, for him.

Rufus performed this lap of honour several times, before I heard Gail call out "Two minutes gone, five and a half to go!"

Now Rufus spent some time at my anus, before running his lovely long tongue up across my cunt to my clit, where he began to nibble, kiss and suck. His performance was superb – this man had licked pussy before!

Soon I was wriggling in the chair as my orgasm started to arrive, slowly, then faster and faster until wave after wave of climax rushed through my pussy in spasms of pleasure. Finally, as Rufus flat-tongued my clit and I shuddered on his face, Gail called out "Time's up". Rufus stood before me and I could see that time wasn't the only thing that was up! His hard-on was superb!

Gail placed one hand on his burgeoning cock and stroked it. "Now you can bid for the fuck, darling," she told her husband-slave. "As with pussy adoration, minimum bid is five minutes, maximum is 10. But the stroke tariff goes up for the fuck – each minute will cost you – let's see – 13 strokes!"

Rufus was obviously hugely aroused and took hardly any time to respond: "Ten minutes, please, darling."

Gail eyed him questioningly. "Ten minutes? That's 130 strokes, sweetie. Showing off again in front of your new domme, are you?"

"No, darling," he protested.

"Don't kid me, kidder," Gail laughed, "you're trying to impress her!"

Then she turned to me, still lying somewhat indecorously with my legs spread. "With the fuck, I give the slave permission to select the position, darling," she informed me. "That OK with you?"

"Fine, Gail," I answered, "let him have his fun."

Rufus took me by the hand, helped me from the chair and walked me over to the couch, his stiff cock throbbing against my left buttock cheek. "Missionary position, please Gail," he requested and gave me a gentle push on my shoulder.

I fell onto my back on the long couch, feeling its coolness on my back and buttocks. Rufus knelt up on the couch and I felt his cock tip pressed gently against my cunt.

Before allowing her husband permission to commence the fuck, Gail announced: "Remember, Rufus, you can come but not inside her. Where would you like it, baby, in your mouth or on your tits?"

I pondered, enjoying the feel of his cock poised at my cunt lips. "Can I be greedy and have a bit of both?" I asked. "It's just that I love seeing a man ejaculate, it excites me."

"Fine by me," said Gail. "OK Rufus, come on her tits first, then put the rest in her mouth."

Rufus's response was to kiss me wetly on the mouth, his lips tasting of my pussy – an experience that thrills me when I can taste my juices on a man's mouth! Then his chocolate log thrust its way deep into my cunt!

He fucked me slowly, driving up to the hilt, then pulling back so his helmet was at the entry point, then thrusting back up me. His smooth piston strokes were sending tremors of excitement through me.

Gradually, these strokes became longer and longer until, with a small grunt, Rufus withdrew from my gaping cunt and placed his horny helmet onto my boobs and let loose a strong stream of sperm, white and globby.

Then, taking his cock in his hand, he guided it to my mouth and I sucked down two, three then four more jets of jism. It tasted glorious!

"That's only nine minutes, Rufus, baby," Gail told her husband, "so you'd better spend the last minute cleaning up that mess you've deposited on Christel's titties!"

Rufus bowed his head to my breasts and began to lap up the spunky solution he had smeared over my tits, until Gail was satisfied that he had completed the clean-up to her satisfaction.

"Well, I sure hope you enjoyed yourself, honey," she told her husband, "because now you're gonna pay for it. Gail, get him into the spreader bar and we'll get him into position again. And this time, you can have a go with him!"

I leapt to my work, eagerly placing our slave's ankles into the straps of the spreader bar, then marching him into position beneath the metal hook. Gail cuffed him, lowered the hook and soon had him back up to a body-stretching tiptoe.

"Pick a whip," Gail told me and I went to the table and inspected the array of punishment equipment. A lovely looking black leather paddle caught my eye. I lifted it up and hefted it. It felt heavy. "Does he like this one?" I asked Gail, as she stood beside me, watching my selections.

"That's a heavy duty paddle," the 40-year-old informed me, "and it really burns his arse. Gives him hell, so I guess the short answer is yes, he loves it!"

I walked over to where our slave hung, and stepped behind his back and buttock-striped body.

Gail sat on the stool and said: "He's got 130 to come, so give him 30 for starters across his arse, darling, while I see if I can inject some life back in this cock of ours!"

I walloped the paddle across the taut, tensed buns and saw them give an extremely satisfying jiggle as the leather hit home with a popping "Thwaaaaack". Rufus jerked wildly at the blow. I could see what Gail meant – this was going to be hell for Rufus, but heaven for me!

I worked away at the punishment, heaving the heavy paddle back and forth against the beautiful buttocks, feeling its weight drag on my arm as the count increased. The paddle was so heavy that after 15 strokes, I was forced to change hands.

The brown backside was now turning into a deep red and Rufus was jerking and threshing about in his bonds. But to my amazement, when I had completed my 30-stroke flagellation, I saw that Gail's oral attentions had managed to get him back to an erection.

"See?" said Gail, rising from the stool and flicking a long-nailed finger against her husband's shaft, "didn't I tell you he was a pain slut?"

'I'm very impressed," I said, with conviction, as I placed the paddle back on the table, and Gail chose a rubber cat o' nine tails for the punishment's continuation.

"Keep up the good work, baby," Gail called out as she took up position behind Rufus's straining back, and I sucked on his stiffy as I heard a slithery, slashing sound of the nine tails smacking against his upper back.

Gail continued to flog her husband, until she had delivered another 90 strokes – 30 on his upper back, 30 across his thighs, 30 across his belly.

For the final 10 strokes, Gail chose a foot-long flogger, with a very short, four-inch leather handle. The eight inches left was a thin, evil-looking strip of black leather.

Standing in front of the sweat-stained, whip-striped body, Gail grinned at his contorted face. "What's got you into all this trouble, eh Rufus?" she asked.

"My cock, darling," he replied.

"Precisely," she agreed. "And that's why you're going to get the last 10 strokes against that pathetic cock!"

Rufus's cock was thick and full and it didn't look at all pathetic, but I was keen to see it flogged!

Gail set to work, slowly, making Rufus count out each stroke and thank her after each delivery. She started at his pubic bone and had laid eight strokes all the way up the shaft when she reached his naked helmet. Smiling, she traced the devilish little implement across his cock tip.

Craaack! The little flogger struck home and Rufus arched his body as far as his bonds would allow and let out a yell. Then, before he had time to catch his breath or count out "Nine, thank-you, Gail", she swung an uppercut delivery, flogging his balls with the implement. This time, Rufus let out a shriek!

Gail then lowered the hook until the groaning and gasping slave was back on his feet, rather than on tiptoe.

"There you are, darling," said the lovely black woman, "you've had your fun for the afternoon. Now Christel and I are going upstairs to have some of our own. Don't run away!"

With that we left, but not until Gail had spun the wheel on the wall, letting the hook descend quickly. It was then that I noticed the effect the flogging must have had on Rufus.

Like a boxer taking a delayed fall, he collapsed first on his knees, then keeled over completely until he was lying on the rubber carpet, his ankles still bound by the spreader bar, his back and buttocks a gleaming red sheen.

"Whatanactor!" Gail laughed, as she shut the door behind her.

"How long for him to recover from that?" I asked, as we made our way upstairs.

"Oh, two or three days – four tops," said Gail.

Then she leaned over and kissed me full on the mouth. "But who needs him, baby? We've got each other, right?"

To be continued... 



Body Builder's Task Ch. 03



A couple of days after Gail had introduced me into the fun to be had in disciplining her 25-year-old submissive husband, she rang me early one morning. I had been lying back in bed, fingering myself and dreaming up delightfully wicked ways to inflict pain on Rufus, the hugely cocked young body builder, when Gail rang.

"Hi, Christel here," I said, rather slowly, as I had been nearing a peak of sexual bliss while playing with myself.

"Hi Christel, it's me, Gail," came her deep, husky voice. "It's time for Rufus to do some work outs, so I was wondering whether you'd like to pop over and do some supervising with me. Two dommes are sometimes better than one."

"I'd love to," I said, my fingers moving in an instant from my snatch. Soon, I hoped, it would be the mouth of the lovely young black man working there, instead of my digital strummers.

"Pop that sexy little PVC outfit on - and the neighbours won't be suspicious of you calling in your macintosh, it's pissing down with rain."

I gulped down an orange juice and a couple of pieces of fruit on my cereal while I stepped into the open-breasted, open-crotched PVC garment, which allowed a slave easy access to my breasts and pussy for body worship. I stepped into high heels, put my raincoat on and almost ran next door to Rufus and Gail's place.

Gail welcomed me with a warm, smoochy kiss and I gazed at her lovely outfit the gorgeous black beauty was wearing in jealous admiration. Her 40-inch breasts, the nipples big and black and surrounded by very large areolae, were supported by a gleaming black leather quarter-cup bra. A leather garter belt held up black stockings which had two-inch deep PVC bands at the top. She was without panties, leaving her semi-shaved snatch available for slave adoration. Her high heels saw the 40-year-old tower a good three inches above me.

Around her throat was a black leather collar-cum-choker with the word "B I T C H" standing out in chrome lettering.

"Let's go," said Gail, "Rufus is already downstairs and ready to get started."

I followed her down to the basement and we entered the pair's work out room, which was adjacent to the torture chamber where we had punished her husband at the week-end in my introduction to female domination.

Rufus was naked and standing to attention in the centre of the gym, his hands clasped behind his head. His nine and a half inch circumcised cock was in a state of semi-erection, rubbing sensuously against his upper inner thigh, a gleaming metal engorgement ring encircling his cock and balls. I wanted him, but knew that first Gail had some form of punishment planned.

I walked up to his gleaming brown body and placed a hand on his cock, making it stiffen appreciably until it was standing out in a perfect hard-on. "Hiya, handsome," I cooed, in what I hoped was a teasingly sexy voice, "miss me?"

The brown-eyed body builder whispered "Very much, Mistress Christel" and I stepped back to allow Gail to take charge.

"Right," snapped the statuesquely-built black woman, "it's time for his weekly push ups session. Some people call 'em push ups, some call em press ups, but whatever you call 'em they both mean the same thing to Rufus. Pain and humiliation. Ain't that right, baby?" Rufus nodded, his cock swaying sweetly as he agreed with his wife.

"Up on the bench, baby and I'll explain the situation to my assistant," ordered Gail.

Rufus stepped smartly over to a long leather bench and climbed onto it. The bench was about six feet long and some two or three feet wide. Rufus placed his feet at the bottom of the bench, ankles almost touching and his hands at its head, fingers gripping around the edge of the bench. He kept his arms straight so he was in the "up" position for his work out. His cock dangled beneath him, so long it was almost grazing against the leather.

Gail then selected a rubber flogger, with many strands - far more than the traditional nine as with a cat - and handed me a single-lashed quirt with a lovely little leather handle.

"These are to signal his movements, baby," she said, as I ran the cruel tip of the quirt through my fingers. It felt sensual but I knew it would sting like hell when cracked against helpless flesh.

"Now I'm the 'down' dominatrix, so when I flog him across his shoulder blades, that's the signal for him to go into the down position. You're the 'up' dominatrix and when you give him one across his buttocks, that's the signal for him to come back to the starting position. Clear, baby?"

"Very," I told Gail.

"There's only one other thing. He stays down as long as we decide and while he's down he has to take that straw in his mouth."

It was then that I noticed a large plastic bottle of Coke had been placed on a table by the head of the work out bench, with a long straw stuck in it. Only the bottle wasn't holding Coke but some yellow liquid.

"This is quite a strenuous work out," Gail continued, "so every now and again I allow him to suck on the straw to get some refreshment. I do that by pressing this button. Watch."

Then I saw that on the table, just in front of the Coke bottle was a stand with two bulbs set into it. The first light was red, but when Gail pressed the remote controller in her non-whip carrying hand, the light next to the red came on yellow. Then the yellow went out and the red light came on again.

"So it's red for stop, yellow for suck - that's right, isn't it Rufus?"

Rufus nodded: "Yes, Mistress Gail."

"Explain to Christel why the yellow is an appropriate colour, Rufus."

I'd already guessed but I felt a flicker of excitement run through me as Rufus explained: "Because the bottle's full of your divine piss, Mistress Gail."

"Yeeeeuk," I exclaimed, though I was secretly thrilled. "Doesn't it taste fuckin' awful?"

Gail laughed. "I think so - mind, I've only had a teeny little taste, but Rufus insists it's lovely and he says he's privileged to drink my piss," she said. "Ain't that so, Rufus?"

"Yes, Mistress Gail," Rufus replied, obediently.

"Fuck," I said, "this I've got to see." Gail then moved to the opposite side of the bench so I was off to her husband's left, she to his right.

"Sure," said Gail, "so let's begin. Take your cues from me, darling."

And with that the stunningly-built black domina swept her rubber-thonged flogger down onto her husband's broad, muscular back. As the thongs caressed his brown flesh, Rufus went into a downward motion, until he was straining to hold it, his mouth clenched firmly around the tip of the straw.

I looked intently at the lights on the table, but the red stayed on. Then Gail nodded at me. I swept the quirt down across his quivering buttocks, leaving a striped, slightly red imprint on his globes. Rufus pushed himself into the upright position.

"Sorry, forgot to tell you I sometimes keep him guessing about whether he's got to suck up some piss," Gail laughed. Then she swept the flogger down over his back again.

This time, almost immediately after Rufus had got the straw in his mouth, Gail flicked her remote and the red light went out, the yellow one came on. He sucked steadily for about two or three seconds, then the red light came on again and I flashed the quirt down across his trembling backside.

"How much of your piss is there in that bottle?" I asked, looking across at my fellow dominatrix.

"Just over a pint and a half, I think," said Gail, flashing the flogger down across her husband's beautifully sculpted bare back once more.

The light stayed at red for what must have been 10 seconds, then the yellow came on. Rufus was straining to maintain his position while he sucked on the straw for almost five seconds, then I got the nod from Gail and placed a relieving crack of the quirt across his bottom to bring him back into the start position.

For several more minutes we played the push up punishment game, then Gail announced a slight change of tactics.

"We going into speed-up mode now, baby," she informed her husband, then looked across at me. "This is really fast stuff, time he got a sweat up, Christel. I send him down, he takes a quick suck on the straw, you bring him up. Quickly!"

And her arm swung the flogger, Rufus went down, sucked on the straw, and almost as soon as I saw him start sucking, I brought the quirt sharply down across his beautiful brown buns. 

We must have given him 20 to 25 push ups that way, until Gail announced a return to the slower punishment. Rufus seemed glad for the respite, his breathing was harsh, his body covered in a light sheen of sweat, his cock now totally limp.

"It's too easy for him, darl," announced my partner in domination. "I think we should make it a teensy bit more difficult."

With that she walked over to another work-out bench and picked up a large metal weight, which she placed across her husband's perspiration-covered upper back.

"This means the up and down signals will now all be delivered to his buttocks," said Gail, slashing the flogger sweetly down across his buns. With the weight on his shoulder blades, Rufus was distinctly slower to go down and Gail delighted in making him wait for several agonising moments before she allowed him a drink. Then I did my duty and flogged him with the quirt.

After a while under the cruelty of the added weight, Gail announced it was "adoration time". Removing the weight from her husband's back, she ordered him onto his knees. "Thank the Down Mistress, Rufus!" Gail snapped and Rufus placed his lovely lips against my pussy and began to worship me, gently, reverently.

As he performed this task, Gail remarked: "Do this well, Rufus, and Christel might give you her piss to work out with next week. That would be lovely, wouldn't it?"

A panted "Yes, Mistress Gail" came from below my waist as Rufus replied before continuing with his cunnilingual task. Finally, I started to buck and thresh on his sweating face as my orgasm roared to an extremely satisfying climax.

"Take a rest on that bench, Christel," said Gail, after Rufus had completed his task, "I'll finish him off."

Then, with a sweeping blow across his gleaming back, Gail ordered her husband "Back up on the bench!"

The muscular young nude resumed his position of punishment, and Gail tormented him by teasingly running the flogger from his ankles, up his calves, over his thighs and buttocks before cracking a sweeping blow across his shoulder blades.

His mouth enclosed the straw in the bottle, but Gail was in no hurry to complete his "down" position punishment. She walked brazenly in front of him, flaunting her magnificently built body in its erotic lingerie, before flicking her remote to switch the light from red to yellow. She must have made him suck for 10 seconds on the straw before striking a buttock-trembling stroke across his beautifully bunched buns.

"Nice piss, eh slave?" she asked, as he resumed the "up" position.

"Yes, mistress, thank-you mistress," Rufus intoned solemnly. Gail continued her punishment for several more minutes before leaning down and inspecting the Coke bottle.

"Oh dear," she said, upon straightening, "it's almost empty and I've not finished with you yet. I know - I'll give you a little top up, how's that darling?"

"That would be wonderful, Mistress Gail," said Rufus, his voice hardly rising above a whisper.

"Christel, be a darling and pass me that funnel, will you?" she said, pointing to a table in the corner, on which stood a red plastic funnel.

I walked over and passed the funnel to Gail, who removed the straw from the Coke bottle, placed the funnel in the plastic bottle and squatted over it. A spurt of strong, yellow-looking liquid sprayed into the receptacle and I watched intently as the Coke bottled was re-filled with her urine.

Gay stood, removed the funnel from the bottle, popped the straw back in, and then stood up to the head of the press-up bench and thrust her crotch in the direction of her husband's head.

"Clean me up, there's a sweetie," she commanded, and I watched with fascination as Rufus poked his pink tongue out and licked and laved along Gail's sex trench and labia until she was satisfied.

"I'm afraid it's going to be a lot warmer, and I know you prefer it chilled, but that's just tough tiddles," smiled Gail at her victim. "Or tough piddles!" she added, laughing at her own joke.

Then Gail resumed the torment of her naked young body builder, sometimes making him sweat and strain in the "down" position for what must have been agonisingly long periods, sometimes allowing him a drink of her urine, sometimes denying him.

At last, Gail called a halt to her fun and games, although she saved one of the more exquisite humiliations for the end.

After laying the flogger down on her husband's bare back, she inspected the Coke bottle. "Hmmm," she said, "a couple of cups left, I reckon, but I've finished your work-out for the morning. Seems a pity to waste it."

And she picked up the bottle, threw the straw on the floor and poured the remnants of the warm piss over the body builder's buttocks.

Rufus let out a bellow as the salty piss streamed over his beaten backside.

"Really," Gail tut-tutted, as his sobs died to panted moans.

"Such a fuss. And I thought you were a strong man. It looks as if Christel and I are going to have to work much harder on getting you fit, young man."

Then the lovely domina looked across at me. "That OK by you, Christel?"

I nodded eagerly. "Sounds wonderful," I agreed.

"Right, Rufus," said his wife. "You work out down here for another hour. Christel and I are going to work out a training programme for you."

As we left the work out room, Rufus was starting to do some punishing exercises on his bench. His muscles were rippling. He looked magnificent.

Still, as Gail said, he obviously needed to work much harder on his fitness. And I was very keen to help him out.

This body building was such fun!

To be continued...



Body Builder's Task Ch. 04



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.

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. 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!