A Spring Cleaning Ch. 03

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Chapter 3 — The Workout

He didn’t mind getting up at 4:30. He was up at 4:30 am every day but Sunday when he was allowed to sleep in until 6:00.

Throughout the week, he was up to get to the gym, finish his workout and get back in time to be sure he had her coffee and breakfast ready by 7:00 am. His business allowed to him to do much of his work from home, with some travel, but most meetings were managed via video conferencing. As long as he could be working by 8:30 am or 9:00 am, things went smoothly.

The Internet provided him with a way to provide for his mistress, and provided his mistress access to endless ideas and methods of keeping him just where she wanted him. It is a wonderful world.

Their town was not large, so getting around was simple, and getting to gym by 4:50 or so gave him plenty of time to workout, and be home in time to prepare and serve his wife breakfast.

He lay still in bed for a moment. He slept nude, as she demanded, save his collar, his cage and his ever present butt plug. They had fallen into a ritual as they went to bed at night whereby he would slip into bed and spoon up with her, pressing his caged cock gently against the beautiful ass. She always smiled, and sighed with satisfaction as he pulled her closer, and she pressed back against his naked body as he wrapped his arms protectively over her.

Sometime in the night, every night, the roles switched, as though they both knew subconsciously, she was the dominant. He woke each morning, feeling her pajama clad body pressed against his back, her soft breath on his neck, and her left hand possessively gripping his swollen balls, as his engorged cock fought against it’s prison, driven by her contact and a conditioned morning hard-on. It hurt, just a little, but he always lingered, savoring the contact, and risking running late.

He gently untangled her fingers from his balls and slipped quietly out of bed to his office where he kept his workout gear and clothes. She had no intention of humiliating him publicly (although the fantasy of it secretly aroused both of them) so his slipped out of his collar, pulled on jeans and t-shirt and headed out. He stopped in the kitchen, spotless from his domestic efforts, and programmed the coffee maker to have her coffee ready to serve when he got home. Then he went out to the car and drove to the gym.

The parking lot was empty when he pulled up, not unusual for five am on a Monday. He wondered how the business model supported running a gym that was open nearly 18 hours a day, but it was nothing more than a fleeting thought. Monday was chest and biceps day, and he needed a full hour and half to complete the routine.

The place was empty, save for the attendant, a typical muscle head found at gyms everywhere. 6’1″ or so, about 210 pounds of overdeveloped muscle, short dark hair and goatee, darker complexion and the obligatory tattoos on his huge arms that oozed out his skin tight T-Shirt. He’d noticed him a few times before, and assumed he must be relatively new to the gym.

They nodded at one another, as guys do, and he went to the locker room to change.

Completely çekmeköy escort oblivious to his surroundings as he went through his sets, he didn’t notice the gym remained empty but for the attendant, nor that the attendant seemed to take extra time sorting the barbells and plates nearby, or the many furtive glances the guy made at his crotch.

He set up his last set of bench presses; it was going to be heavy.

“Hey” he said to the attendant, “Can I get a spot over here?”

“Sure,” said the guy, “How many reps?”

“Just five”, he said, “last set.”

The guy just nodded and stepped into the rack to spot.

As he pulled his feet up on the bench and prepared to lift, he couldn’t help but look up a see his well-built spotter towering over him, crotch inches above his forehead. He thought he saw a smirk on the guy’s face as he started.

He pushed through his last set, faltering on the last rep, as the gym rat gently grabbed the bar to assist extolling him to “push, man!” He got the bar up in the rests and sat up.

“Thanks,” he said.

“No problem, man” said the guy. “You push a lot of weight for a guy your size,” again, a ghost of a smirk.

While he wasn’t built like Hulk, his 5’10” frame was well proportioned, toned by diet and exercise. He didn’t have the guns of a body builder, and while his stomach was flat, it was no “six-pack”.

“Doesn’t matter, ” he smiled to himself and thought, “my wife thinks my ass is my best feature.”

“Thanks again,” he said and headed to the abandoned locker room. A quick shower and home, he’d have lots of time to fix breakfast.

He luxuriated in the shower, enjoying the hot water as it ran down his body, massaging his tired muscles, still burning just a little from the workout.

He stepped from the stall onto the drying area and toweled down. Usually by this time, more gym patrons had begun arriving, so he wrapped the towel around his waist to cover his caged cock, opened the privacy door and stepped in the locker room.

He stopped dead. There in front of him was the gym rat, stripped naked, every muscle individually defined, huge arms and shoulders, a massive chest, narrowing to a washboard stomach, then huge quads and calves.

The guy’s cock was standing erect. As he looked, he determined it wasn’t any bigger than his own imprisoned member, but it looked smaller relative the overdeveloped body from which it sprang. And it was free.

Glancing at the exit, the gym rat said, “Nobody’s going to bother us, we’re opening a little late this morning.”

“Drop the towel,” the big man growled.

Frozen in shock and fear, he weighed his options, there was no way to fight off this muscle bound lout without a weapon, and a mad dash, if successful, would likely only get him as far as the locked door.

Defeated, he slowly dropped his towel, exposing his caged cock.

The guy smiled and leaned back against the sink counter where he’d piled his clothes, and stroked his stiffened member. Grabbing his phone, he snapped a picture of the chaste man before him.

Putting down the phone, cevizli escort he laughed and said, “I knew it. I knew you were locked up.”

“You hide it pretty well,” he said, “But I know what to look for.”

Not certain what he should say, or how talking would help, the chastity slave said nothing.

“Being locked up means one of two things,” the big man said, motioning his prey to come closer.

He approached. The muscle man reached out with one giant hand, and grabbing his victim’s hair, forced him slowly to his knees and held his face millimeters from the raging hard cock.

“It means either you’re sissy faggot, and you need a Daddy, or your cucked loser and your hot-wife needs a new bull.”

“Either way, I’ll bet you give great head.” With that, he pulled his victim’s head close and rammed his cock into his mouth.

On his knees, he gagged slightly as the invasion proceeded. He’d had so much training taking his wife’s cock, which was longer and wider than this, balls deep in his throat, his gag reflex was overridden and he was suddenly, unexpectedly, deep throating a new master. Adding to his shame, his cock was growing harder in it’s cage.

“Damn, you are a well trained slut. You take that cock like a two dollar ho,” said the gym rat, as he rammed his cock as deep as it would go.

Holding the caged slut’s nose against his belly he said, ” Look at me.”

The cocksucker looked up, mouth stuffed. Wide-eyed and drooling, he looked up to see the phone as his tormentor took another picture.

The big man took his time, alternatively slowly humping the smaller man’s throat and then violently face fucking, growing closer and closer to cumming.

His cock straining in its cage, the slut drifted into subspace, intent on worshipping the cock that impaled him. His training had conditioned him to take a cock and offer it the maximum attention and pleasure. He was on autopilot, sucking a slurping, longing to take the cock deeper if he could.

“Fuck,” said his new master, “I’ve been watching you for a week or so — I should have done this earlier.”

With that he pulled his cock from the slave’s mouth, and pulling him by his hair, easily bent the slut over the counter. Holding his back down, with his head pulled up, the slave could see his fate behind him in the large mirrors that covered the wall above the sinks.

The big man kicked his prey’s legs apart, exposing his plugged ass.

“What the fuck?” he said, “you workout plugged? You are fucking talented.” He laughed, and pulled the plug from his victim’s ass.

Reaching under and grabbing the smaller man’s balls, he said “Fuck me, you’re hard in that cage. You like this shit, don’t you, faggot.”

It did arouse him, he thought, suddenly craving a cock in his ass where the plug had been. But he wasn’t aroused because he was a faggot; he was aroused because he had been conditioned to serve, to respond like an animal to stimuli. Pleasuring a dominant was his only path to reward, and he performed exactly as trained. He involuntarily pushed his ass back and up, literally begging for cock.

“Do erenköy escort you want me to fuck you?” the question hung in the air, the same question his mistress posed frequently.

He responded in the only way he knew how. “If it would please, you,” he said hopefully.

“If it would please me,” the big man said sarcastically. He rammed his salvia slicked cock deep in the submissive’s ass. “It would fucking please me, faggot.”

The slave groaned in pleasure as the cock slammed past his prostate, over and over.

“Please, please don’t stop,” he begged looking into the mirror, watching his muscle bound master fuck him. The real cock in him felt different than the dildos his mistress used. It was hard and soft at the same time, and the pressure it exerted on his p-spot was constant, and he could feel himself building. It no longer felt like he needed to piss but couldn’t. He could feel cum dribble out of his cock with each stroke. He looked in the mirror to see his rapist take yet another photo of, clearly catching the entire view in the mirror.

“Arrgh,” growled the gym rat as he spewed cum into the slut’s rectum. Pulling out, he rested his deflating cock on the slut’s ass while the remaining cum dribbled out of his cock onto his quarry.

Pulling him down on floor at his feet, the big man looked down and said,” So now you have a new Daddy, right faggot?”

“I’m not a fag,” the fucked toy said, “I’m a married slave to beautiful mistress.” He felt a pang of guilt as he said this. He couldn’t help feeling he’d betrayed her.

“Bullshit,” challenged the big man, “Prove it. If she’s hot, she needs to meet me! Is he hot?” he asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

“What’s her number?” he demanded.

When the smaller man hesitated, the gym rat put his hand around his throat and said, “Look, you’re either a lying sissy fag, in which case your new Daddy is going to punish you, or you’re telling the truth, and you need to introduce your wife to a real man. Give me her number, or you’ll be one sore sissy.”

The beaten man looked up, and gave up the number.

“I’ll be checking.” He said. “Now eat your cum off the floor, and get the fuck out of here. I need to open up.”

The big man left, leaving the slave to lick up his cum, retrieve his plug and get cleaned up to leave. Looking at the clock, he was now 30 minutes late. He was fucked, truly fucked.

He raced home and bolted through the door.

She had already poured her coffee, and he could hear her watching TV in the bedroom.

Racing to his office, he stripped and replaced his collar and crept into the bedroom.

He knelt beside the bed, knees wide, and hands behind his back, eyes down. His cock had shrunken in shame and guilt.

Without looking up from her coffee, she said, “You’re late. I had to get my own coffee.”

She left the statement hanging, and continued to ignore him otherwise.

He struggled to find a way to explain, trying in vain to find the words to begin.

Just he opened his mouth to speak, her phone bleated with a new text.

She held up her finger to silence him, as she read her text.

After a while she said, “I see you made a new friend at the gym.”

She scrolled through a few pictures, smiling.

“His name is Damien,” she announced.

“My, he IS built, isn’t he?” She looked at him, smiling, and sipped her coffee.

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