Cruel FemDom Fitness Training Camp

As she spoke, Mistress Blake ever so slowly approached me in small steps. She was now so close I could feel her body heat, as I could feel the eyes of all the beautiful fit women in the room focused toward me. Making riveting eye contact with her steely blue eyes, Mistress Blake went on with her "conversation."

"You absolutely and unequivocally will complete each exercise assignment one hundred percent. And one hundred percent in perfect form. There will no exceptions. Ever. If you slack on us or cheat you will repeat the exercises. And don't worry, we have electronic muscle monitors to tell us whether you have achieved your threshold." There was a long pause. She was inches from my face.

As if reading my mind, she smiled, continuing, "You may recall the series of tests you performed during your physical at the clinic while wearing the muscle contraction sensors?" she asked with a tonality making it clear the question was actually a statement. Pause.

"We have the results as a baseline." Big smile. "You had better never give us muscle stimulation lower than your baselines. If you try to fake muscle fatigue you will be punished severely. We know what you're capable of doing. And to give you something to look forward to, we will continuously set the thresholds higher and higher above baseline during your training." At last she backed up a few steps.

She remained close enough that I could see her perfectly toned body glistening from oil. There just wasn't an extra ounce of body fat. Her long legs were perfectly shaped, revealing that nice vertical line shaped by tendon and muscle. Her abs were so perfectly flat, revealing that crease in the middle only women in top condition can display. In spite of being drained, my penis started to grow larger and become firmer. I didn't want to her notice because the timing seemed inappropriate.

Always one step ahead of me she moved her gaze to between my legs. She kneeled down in front of me to take a closer look. Certainly she knew what I was thinking but she just kept watching. I could feel her eyes upon me and there was an inappropriately erotic sensation causing my cock to continue its mission.

It was now quite hard and sticking straight out in front of me. Her devilish smile told me a profound statement would soon follow. It did.

"In case you weren't aware of the technique, we properly spoiled your orgasm. A ruined orgasm, it's called. There is no way you can have an orgasm anytime soon. But you can still get quite aroused to the point where you wish you could orgasm." She stood back up and patted my head, as she would a hamster. "Poor baby, you're probably thinking you can jerk off that tiny tool once you're under the sheets in bed." That's exactly what I was thinking.

"Not to worry, dear one, we have a shiny new CBT3000 you'll be wearing when you sleep. Better to make sure you don't touch your little weenie." With that she backed off abruptly. The change in her demeanor and the seriousness of her eyes told me she was back in business mode.

"Pay close attention. This next part is extremely important and critical to your success in this program.

"Do. Not. Think.

"You are not to think. Do not think. You are to have no independent thought. Force your mind to go blank. Make no decisions. Don't move, don't even let a finger twitch. We decide when and how you move. Have no thoughts other than focusing on each exercise. For the next 72 hours we are taking absolute and complete control of your body and all its functions.

"We control your bowel movements. We control your urination. If you can't pee on command in front of us we'll just catheterize you. We control everything you eat and drink. We control if and when you sleep. We control whether you may become aroused. We control what you feel; what you taste. Let go of any and all thought to focus exclusively on demanding your neuromuscular system to perform the tasks we require of your body.

"Your one and only task is to require your body to follow our instructions. Our instructions. We say. You do. It's simple. We decide each movement you make, how much effort you expend to make it and how many times you make it. We decide. You comply.

"You are not to speak unless spoken to. Do not attempt to engage your trainers in conversation. You are not to make any comments whatsoever. You will be punished for any attempt to do so. We speak to you. You do what we say. It's very simple. Very simple. Follow our instructions instantly and without hesitation and we'll get alone fine during your time here."

By this point in the "conversation" Mistress Kayla had this frightening hardness in her eyes. I realized she was dead serious about everything she said. Perhaps that's why the phrase, "how did I get myself into this," resonated over and over in my head. I realized there was no turning back and I'm sure seeing my knees wobble proved to all the trainers that the message was getting through. I must have been a pitiful site, naked and shaking under the bright lights, close up images of different parts of my body displayed on large screens for all to see. I was terrified. Session play with Mistress V was nothing like this.

Mistress Kayla's speech was increasingly redundant. She wanted to make a point. She went on, "Do not think. Do. You must follow directives from any female on the premises whether it is one of your trainers or a guest who may visit the facility."

"I think you know the other rules from your training with Mistress V. Never try to cover your genitalia, stand behind equipment or architecture or otherwise try to conceal your any part body from view. Never cross your arms or legs. Never allow any parts of your body to touch another."

"You will have absolutely zero privacy during your time here. Zero. We will observe and record on video when you eat, when you drink, when you exercise, when you sleep. You will bathe and use the toilet under careful observation. You will never not be observed.

"If there are ever doubts about your actions we will replay the video so there will never be any question about your performance. Video is an excellent resource to confirm whether you performed an exercise in proper form. Thou shall not cheat."

Pointing to a small refrigerator positioned at the end of the short center wall she went on, "the 'fridge by this table will always be stocked with blended vegetables augmented with protein powder, as well as a blended mixture of chicken and spices for protein. You may have all the water you wish from the cooler. You will receive intravenous solutions to make certain you will stay hydrated.

"You will also receive two intramuscular injections of testosterone each day along with two subcutaneous injections of human growth hormone. Before training begins we will thoroughly cleanse your bowel with a series of deep enemas and you will begin each day with a similar protocol. If you are not able to urinate in front of us, Mistress Blake, a nurse, will insert a catheter to release your urine.

"Before internal cleansing your hair will be sheared off your head and waxed off all other parts of your body.

"You will wear a chastity device when you sleep at night.

"You are allowed up to four hours of sleep each night while you are in the program. When you are awakened you will follow the instructions which will be shown on the fitness room monitors. Pay very close attention to the instructions because your every move is being recorded.

"You will exercise in extremely intense sessions which will each be followed by a multiple hand massage to help eliminate the lactic acid from your large muscle groups. This massage is not for your enjoyment and you will be secured to the table during the

15 minute procedure. Massage will be followed by a brief period in the whirlpool bath. You will then receive IV hydration before beginning another cycle of training exercises.

"You are going to work harder than you ever have in your life. You are going to work harder than you ever thought you could. You are going to work to exhaustion, over and over again until you think you can't go on. But you must go on and we use extreme methods to motivate you to do so.

"In addition to painful or humiliating punishments which may be administered as motivation or for any violation, you will also be assessed with punishment exercises. These exercises will be listed on the white board by the entrance to this room. You must complete the punishment exercises by the end of the day or the amount of required reps will automatically double the following morning.

"It is your responsibility to remind us that you must complete the punishment reps. You may have to fit them in before or after a training cycle, or perform them in the evening. But that will use up part of your precious sleep time. You tell us when you're ready to perform punishment reps. After each required exercise is completed we will remove it from the list on the white board.

"The best way to avoid punishment exercises is to avoid making mistakes."

At long last her redundant but reality jolting conversation-cum-monologue as complete. I wasn't expecting to give my own introductory speech.

CHAPTER 5: My Humiliating Introductory Speech

The thin brunette trainer, the target of my growing crush, faced me from about three feet away. Her legs were so perfect I just wanted to drop down and explore them for hours with my lips and tongue. When she opened her mouth my brief daydream vanished.

In a matter of fact voice she began, "you get one chance to speak now. Speak to all of us. Make eye contact with us. Turn so each one of us, and the cameras, can see you. Tell us in your own words how out of shape you are, how you do not deserve this special treatment.

"Squeeze your fat, make it wiggle, move your hips around, jump. Show us why of all the candidates who deserve to be in this program that you are the most in need. Then tell us, convincingly, how you are going to put forth a gargantuan effort to meet or exceed our expectations and that you will complete every single training exercise during this program. Convince us that you are going to succeed.

"When you're done, we will play back the video and you may judge for yourself whether you made a compelling presentation. If not we may give you the opportunity to try again."

I was shaking more than ever now as I realized this may singularly be the most humiliating thing I have ever done. Stark naked and exposed, under bright lights, vulnerable, surrounded by impeccably fit women who hold my pain or pleasure in their hands the next three days and who are examining me intensely with their eyes.

I give presentations all the time in my executive position at work but which were of a personal nature. Ever. And there were no teleprompters to keep me on track. This was stage fright of epic proportions.

"Remember the rule about immediate action. No hesitation," the blonde voiced forcefully. "Begin now."

"First, it is an honor and a pleasure to be selected to participate in the very first Gutbusters program," I blurted out, somewhat eloquently I thought. I went on, "it is a bit of a conundrum because while I am honored and privileged to be here, being chosen for this program means I was the candidate in the flabbiest, worst possible shape." I saw some heads nodding in agreement. That was the first time I experienced positive feedback. Even that was actually intensely negative to me.

As I spoke, I began to turn, directing my speech toward each trainer. As each came into view I could feel her eyes examining me with intense scrutiny. I don't know whether the focus was on my belly, which is the subject of the training program, or on my genitalia; my cock was made limp by fear my cock gets very small when it's flaccid. I never let anyone see it in that condition. It's that small. And now seven women could see it along with every inch of my body. It felt they could see inside me, too.

Continuing my speech I pinched my love handles with each hand, explaining, "see, that's about two inches of pure flab," I said, the feeling of humility deepening. "And if I squat down like this, you can see two more rolls of fat on my chest and belly. That's pretty disgusting, isn't it? I look forward to working with each and every one of you and will give you at least one hundred percent to make sure I get fit and this belly is supported by a strong muscle layer before Monday." I thought I sounded pretty darn convincing.

"Some parts should move and some shouldn't," I went on. " See, when I jump up and down how the fat on my chest and belly moves even after the rest of me stops." "I'll turn and repeat the jumping so you can see the bouncing from all angles." Mistress V knew how much I hated this type of examination and would experience great glee if She knew what I was going through now.

I repeated the jumping as I turned to make sure every trainer saw it. Then I stomped each leg, one at a time, saying, "my thighs just bounce and sway. There's no muscle tone, just flab. If I kneel on my feet like this you can see how my thighs just spread, formless with no tone whatsoever. I've been told they look like an out of shape girl's thighs. There's just no muscle definition."

I outstretched my arms while speaking and realized how vulnerable that position made me feel. "I let my body get in pathetic shape, contrary to the orders of my Mistress. I deserve to be worked hard. Humiliating me motivates me to work even harder proving that I can get through this program. Bring on the motivation -- I'll endure whatever it takes to succeed at this program and make you proud of my accomplishment when it's over. Thank you for giving me this chance."

I expected a resounding applause, nods of approval or some sort of positive feedback. The trainers were so quiet I could hear a pin drop. This time the blonde, Mistress Blake, spoke.

Slowly she said, "Ok. Hmm. Let's play it back and see what you think; whether you want to go with this one or try again."

It was agonizing to watch the video on the high definition screens. I thought it would never end and I really wanted to look away, but two trainers admonished me to keep my eyes on the screen. Talk about embarrassed. I really was in bad shape and I have a really small cock. It didn't look so good. It looked awful. And then I didn't sound as compelling as I thought I should. It sounded a bit monotone, even canned.

The thin brunette addressed me: "You went pretty easy on yourself, don't you think? Sure, we saw lots of fat blabbering around and tiny dick drawing circles in the air. But why is it you're in that poor of a condition. In practical terms what does being so blubbery mean in your day to day life? In your love life? Do you strut around proudly wearing Speedos at the pool or are you the guy hiding under a large towel?

Are your sex partners enthusiastic when they finally see and feel your blubbery body?

Feel, if they can, your dangling dick inside them?

"Decide carefully. You will not be given many opportunities to decide anything while you're here. Choose wisely. Do you wish to try again?"

Knowing that I would be penalized for any hesitation and that I shouldn't add any comments I simply said, "Yes, Mistress, thank you for giving me a chance to repeat my presentation." I didn't have much time to think.

She said, "OK then. Start now."

This time I again demonstrated the jumping , squatting and kneeling, adding jumping jacks and squat thrusts in addition to the other humiliating poses. I explained how I never took off my shirt at the pool, how I always wore large, loose shorts, how I didn't stay at the pool if it began to get crowded, especially if attractive women were present. I added that my belly was so flabby it was loose like Jello. As I made that comment I put my hand on my abdomen to move it all around. I jumped facing sideways so they could see how it bounced and how much it protruded in front of me. I used the word repulsive several times because it seemed to garner a positive response. Which in my eyes was a negative response, of course.

I explained that it was indeed embarrassing not to be able to see the entire length of my cock and, making this part up, commented about how angry women got when we first started to have sex and they saw how pathetic my cock is. I equated its flaccid length to that of a baby and that if my belly weren't in the way I may at least have a chance of fully penetrating a woman.

For good measure I told them that women don't even want me to try penetrating them so I wind up having to spend most of my time giving oral for extended periods of time or being at the receiving end of a strapon. That comment actually drew a few smiles.

I couldn't believe the words I was uttering and that I was doing so in a public forum. I thought it was about time to bring it to a conclusion.

Continuing from my discussion about sex I explained, initially addressing the tall skinny trainer with the dark hair, "you're right. I wear clothing that masks my physical defects. Potential partners generally think I must be in great shape. My gut is barely noticeable when I'm strategically dressed.

"I can often sense a partners disappointment when she puts her hand on my chest or moves it across my abdomen toward my cock. The softness of my belly must give them a sense of betrayal. Compounded by their discovery that my cock is less than five inches long.

"My lack of physical fitness is a deception. A lie. I misrepresent myself because I am selfish. I so desire having pleasure with a woman that I must use a virtual smokescreen to enable us to have sex. This Gutbusters program, in addition to strengthening my abs, will strengthen my honesty as I present myself to future partners. Thanks to you and your generosity my days of deceit will soon be over.

"I am going to work harder than I ever have in my life. I'll show you that it has what it takes to become physically and emotionally honest. Thank you for giving my flabby, loose, out of shape body this incredible opportunity."

Finished at last.

It was surreal having to stand there reviling myself in front of women who were going to work me harder than I ever have been worked in my life, who would invasively destroy the privacy of my inner body, and whose own bodies are examples of perfect physical specimens.

I awaited the verdict.

"You're pathetic," the blonde said. Pointing to the glass enclosed area she said, "Go in there, get on the exam table face up. Put your legs in the stirrups. Hands behind your head."

CHAPTER 6: Spanking Clean Inside & Out

I did as the blonde trainer said. Walking from the workout room to the examination room I could see and feel all eyes on me as I climbed onto the table as directed. A trainer closed the door to this white tiled room leaving me alone inside. I found it odd when I noticed the door had a keyless code lock system on both sides of the door. I couldn't hear what was going on but through the glass separating the rooms but I could see an animated discussion taking place. I don't know if they were grading me or working on a fitness plan.

They played back parts of my "speech" as well as parts of my inspection. I could see it in humiliating glory on the big screens. It was only while lying on the exam table I noticed there were monitors in the exam room as well. Would there be no escape? I hated seeing my flabby body bouncing around up close and personal. Could it get worse?

The seven attractive and fit trainers finally broke from their assembly. All entered the exam room where each seemed to have a defined task. My knees were secured to the stirrups by leather straps. Vinyl cuffs placed on my ankles secured my legs to o-rings on the table. Rubber cuffs bound my hands over my head to o-rings on each side of the table.