Cruel FemDom Fitness Training Camp

CHAPTER 8: Introduction to the Most Intense Physical Fitness Program in the Universe

With that comment from Mistress Kayla, two trainers at once appeared from somewhere behind me attaching ankle weights on each leg. The weighted cuffs were modified with soft cushions to be more comfortable, perhaps for long term wear, than the typical sports store weights. Each weight had also been modified to incorporate two parallel metal cables, one above the other and about two inches apart.

The cables secured the ankle weights to me and were held in place by a small padlock on each cable. Four in all. The locks were taped with duct tape, presumably to stop them from banging around. I doubt if the banging sound concerned them as much as the risk that banging may cause a lock to open.

A locked posture collar. A heavy, electrified, locked ball separator. A locked electro anal plug. Now the locked ankle weights. I started to panic thinking that if did decide to escape I would be stark naked and would have no easy means of removing any of these controlling devices. They were indeed taking control of my mind as well as of my body.

Finally, several Mistresses removed the table restraints accompanied by a firm order to get off the table and stand. At last, freed from the table, freed from enemas, freed from the IV bag, freed from punishment leg raises!

"One last thing, " the blonde said. Bend over and put your chest on the exam table. She pushed a button and I heard a motor whine as the table moved to its lowest position. I felt a swirling motion my on hip and then was jarred when a rather large gauge hypodermic needle impaled me. The testosterone, I thought. I felt another Mistress firmly grip a love handle on each side of me while I was simultaneously injected with must have been the HGH. Ouch.

I felt a very firm slap on my ass accompanied by a "let's go boy!" as I was herded quickly out the front door and onto the concrete slab. This time there were two electric carts parked on the slab. The first one now had a twin.

I knew what I had to do. Even though it felt ridiculous and opened me up to full exposure, outdoors, I got in position with my hands behind my neck, elbows ninety degrees, legs spread wide. I'd never seen my hairless body, much less my hairless cock and balls, outdoors in broad daylight. I felt like hundreds of hidden strangers were watching me, using trees and shrubs as camouflage.

Mistress Blake and the wavy haired trainer with the fantastic abs sat on the rear facing seats in one of the carts. Facing toward me. A brunette with shoulder length but somewhat spiky hair, and the longest legs, proportionally, I had ever seen on a woman, climbed in to drive. Where did she come from?

The thin trainer and the stocky trainer with short hair were in the front seat of the second cart. A large transparent plastic storage box sat on the rear-facing seat. Seeing the box filled with a variety of percussion instruments such as paddles and single tale whips gave me a general sense of its contents. I had experienced a one-inch thick rubber paddle only once before so when I saw one emerge I knew any techniques to motivate me were going to be very motivational.

The brunette with the long legs stepped out of the driver's seat of the first cart. Standing very, very close to me she said, "You're going to exercise. You don't decide when to stop. I decide when you stop. Got that?"

"Yes, Mistress," I nervously replied.

We're going for a run. We're going to run every hour, on the hour. I'm driving the first cart. You are to stay within ten feet of the cart. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress. I am required to stay within ten feet of the cart you are driving."

"Good." "You're learning." She continued, "Mistress Blake holds the controller for your electro butt plug and ball electrode. She will motivate you if you fall behind. You've already had a demonstration of what the medium power level feels like. Mistress Blake tends to be a little trigger happy, so it would definitely be within your best interest to stay within ten feet of this cart. Even closer would be a better idea. She might become frustrated if you always stay close to the limit.

She continued, "the cart behind you wants to play with you. So they'll do whatever they want whenever they feel like it. It might be a good idea to stay well ahead of them. I saw single tails in that box." She grinned. "As you know those can sting a bit, even from a distance."

Mistress Blake spoke next, somewhat compassionately, "We don't waste time here. When the cart starts moving you start moving. We expect you to be in motion pretty much all the time until you sleep. You will regret it in a bad way if you hesitate or fall behind during the run."

With that, the first cart starting rolling and I already had to maintain a jogging pace to keep up. The ankle weights made my legs feel appreciably heavy and I struggled to comprehend how much extra exertion I had to put forth compared to the jog from the parking area. It was now much, much harder to keep up with cart. I felt as if I had lead weights attached to my legs. Perhaps because I actually did.

I could feel my body fat bouncing to the rhythm of each step I took and I could tell the rear-facing trainers noticed the stray movement as well. It seemed unimaginable that I could keep this up for long. All I had to do was think about the severity of a cock caning for a minor infraction and endorphins would flow from fear. Not completing an exercise would be tantamount to failure. What kind of punishment would result from such a serious violation?

I had to direct my thinking to picking up each leg, placing it down again, moving forward and then repeating the process. Each step was difficult and I would expect to last no more than a few hundred feet under these circumstances. Again, the phrase, "how did I get myself into this?" resonated in and endless loop through my mind's ears.

Somehow I had still remained only about five feet behind the lead cart. Mistress Blake addressed me. "We're warming up now. You're going to run in one mile increments. Each subsequent mile you must achieve a time faster than the previous run. Your training team will make that happen. In a couple of minutes we'll be finished with warm up so be prepared to move up to a run. You must keep up with the pace cart."

Run? Run? I could barely move my weighted legs as it was. I made myself focus on lifting each weighted foot up so that I could advance forward. It required intense concentration merely to maintain a steady jogging pace.

Perhaps as a way of warning I heard a fun sounding, "whee! Here we go!" moments before the pace cart lurched forward. Somehow I found it in me to increase my pace without putting more than a few additional feet between the pace cart and me. It was depressing to realize that we'd just started the run and I was within two feet of an area I must avoid at all costs.

I managed a steady cadence and successfully stayed in the zone for a few minutes until my heart sank when I saw the incline ahead. Without ankle weights an uphill incline makes running far more difficult than on a level surface. And I had ankle weights adding to the burden of an uphill climb.

Surprisingly, and obviously as part of the plan, I could feel my abs dig in, firmly contracting to help me begin the uphill challenge. About halfway up the hill the distance between the pace cart and me began to increase. I could see the curly hair trainer begin adjusting controls on the wireless pain controller.

Without warning I felt a tingling around my cock and balls and an uncomfortable sting around my rectum as it involuntarily contracted. I was distracted. Mistress Blake adjusted the electro plug to a firm but almost painless pulse of about one per second. At that rate and intensity the movement of the plug caused by the involuntary muscle contractions firmly massaged my prostate.

Turning to her seat mate, I saw Mistress Blake point at my emerging erection. I think both enjoyed the power of being able to take over control of my pleasure as well as my pain. I appreciated the extra strength having a firm erection gave me, even though it was embarrassing that it happened solely by remote control and not of my doing.

Still fighting against the hill my legs became so heavy I thought any step could be my last. A burning pain continued to increase intensity in my quads and inner thighs, and my abs started to burn as they usually do only during specific abs exercises. I had a lot of big muscle groups being pushed to their limits and I was becoming physically exhausted by the herculean effort to keep up with the cart.

The distance to the cart increased and I was pretty sure I had exceeded the invisible ten foot force field. Suddenly, my cock and balls felt as if they were being stun gunned and burned at the same time. I keeled over putting my hands between my legs frustrated there was no way to move the heavy steel electrode sending searing pain through my genitalia.

Before I could stand up again there was an intense blow on my ass, so intense I started to stagger. A second blow caught me at about the same time as another burst of electricity pulsed through my genitals.

"Go. Run. Go. Now. Go! Get back on track. Now!" I don't know if that was a trainer or if it were a voice in my head.

Somehow I caught my balance while realizing that fortunately I hadn't come to a complete stop. It took all the energy I had and then some to get back within ten feet of the pace cart, but the blows from the rubber paddle had a way of keeping me moving forward. My legs were lead, my abs turned into fire pits, demanding more effort than I ever would have anticipated from a simple run.

Nearing the crest of the hill I was bowled over by electrical pain four times as I let the distance from the pace car increase. As if I needed further motivation I heard the unmistakable sound from a single tail's cracker right behind my ear. I had experienced Mistress V's single tale whips on several occasions and knew from experience just how accurate she was with the whip.

Mistress V could break a pistachio placed on a chair eight feet away from her. Such accuracy could be reassuring. The whip strikes only where she wants it to strike. Such accuracy could be equally menacing precisely because it could strike anywhere she wanted it to strike.

Finally back on a temporary stretch of level ground I gave it everything I had to move within ten feet of the pace cart again. I was dangerously close to the ten-foot mark which wasn't quite as imaginary as I had thought. I realized the brunette in the rear-facing seat was actually using a laser range finder to confirm the distance! These people were maniacal about accuracy and had blocked every single avenue to cut corners.

This minor break gave "how did I get myself into this?" adequate time to resonate through my head several times. Perhaps for a moment I was distracted enough to forget that I was naked and stuffed with a 3" diameter butt plug while running in the presence of intensely fit females. My reprieve quickly vanished.

We rounded a steep curve to face a diabolical formation: a hill longer and steeper than the one I had barely survived. It was only a short uphill distance until the pace cart seemed to zoom ahead, leaving me well out of the ten-foot range of the safety zone.

Coinciding with yet another jolt of electricity I felt the single tail work its magic by reaching between my legs to strike my balls firmly in the middle. Mistress V could perform that move skillfully even though doing so seems utterly impossible. The whip caught my balls from behind a second time resulting in an involuntary scream which was followed by a series of three very strong strikes to my ass.

I knew big welts must be forming to the glee of the driver and passenger in the second cart. I must have slowed down because the second cart was almost next to me and felt what was surely must have been the inch-thick rubber paddle pound my ass quickly and mercilessly. I tried to move to the right side of the road but was limited by a steep embankment.

Slap slap slap slap slap slap slap slap slap slap. The pain resulting from the strike of a rubber paddle is both excruciatingly stinging and very deep. Rapid strikes allow no time for the pain of the previous strike to diminish and the resulting cumulative pain intensifies with each additional blow. I just didn't know how much I could take but I also knew I would be within striking distance of the single tale if I attempted to move away from the paddle.

They must have conspired together. The second cart backed off a few feet. Just as I thought I was going to get a break she started repeated strikes to virtually the same place on my ass with each strike. Simultaneously, each strike was accompanied by a quick but very intense pulse on the cock ring and the anal plug. I could feel my chest heaving and started seeing dark around the periphery of my vision. The intense and repeated pain was becoming more than I could endure.

Looking back on this part of training I understand now what they were doing. As if by magic, my legs grew stronger, my lungs absorbed more air, my posture improved and I gained on the first cart. I was actually gaining on the first cart! In less than a minute I once again held a position in the safe haven behind the lead cart. Endorphins must have been flowing through my veins like water from a high pressure hydrant.

To my astonishment the lead cart began slowing down. I had entered another space. It must have been sub space. After just a minute at this new pace I looked down to see my feet firmly on the concrete surface by the training building. I did it!

And seconds after I stopped I ran to the edge of the concrete pad, vomiting prolifically several times on the dirt fringe. Returning to the area where the carts were parked I just wanted to lie down and rest. I was bent over, hands on my knees. Someone grabbed my hair, pulling my head to see her face inches from mine. The blonde trainer with the curly hair seemed angry.

"Keep moving!" she yelled. "No breaks between exercises. Get inside now. " With strong emphasis on the word now.

Barely inside the door she yelled, loud and firm, "on your back. On the floor." Within seconds two trainers put a cuff on each wrist and secured my hands to the back of the posture collar.

The barking continued. "You've had too long a break already. 100 rapid crunches beginning in ten seconds. Off pace or poor form and we start at zero. Ready 3,2, 1 up . . ."

My head was reeling, my burning abs seared when I raised my torso to complete the first crunch.

" . . .98, 99, 100. Fifteen second break then we start again. Five sets of 100. After this warm up we'll move to the captain's chair. Get ready for some serious leg lifts on the chair."

I felt a sting on each nipple simultaneously as clover-style nipple clamps were attached to each nipple. Not for show I imagined.

I began to feel nauseated when she spoke next, rhythmically , "Second set of 100 rapid crunches," she said loudly, followed by the dreaded staccato count, "three two one begin, up one, up two up three. . .."

CHAPTER 9: The First Round in the Gym

Five hundred quick crunches were just the warm up. I was quickly hustled off to the so-called "captains chair," which is really just a frame with flat rests to support the elbows and forearms. The idea is to pull the knees up using the ab muscles. It is an incredibly intense exercise and moreso when the forearms are secured to the machine there is ample exposure for administering motivational pain the most any part of the body. And they did.

I won't go through each and every exercise as we progressed through more floor exercises and the horrible reps required on the slant board. They variously worked each of the three main abdominal muscle groups to exhaustion. There was, however, one stand out exercise. The thought of it now even as I write makes me want to vomit.

After several exhausting sets of reverse curl ups with weights on my calves, Mistress Blake ordered me to stand up and walk over to what appeared to be an inversion machine. It was. Standing facing the wall mirror the trainers quickly put my feet into inversion boots which were secured to the lower perimeter of the inversion circle. My legs were spread as wide as I thought they could possibly go.

"Hold on the the ring," a voice commanded as the trainers began tipping the ring forward. In seconds I was hanging upside down and within a few more seconds my wrists were securely bound to the posture collar.

"You will sit up 90 degrees, hold for two seconds, then lower in a controlled movement to the start position. You will perform fifteen reps." She paused as if to let that number sink in, before continuing, "this is a very serious exercise and a very important part of your training. You will complete fifteen reps. You can be sure of that. You will not be released until you do."

"Prepare to begin in 5-4-3-2-1 up up up," she demanded. To my horror and with my already exhausted abs I could just barely move my torso up a couple of inches. I tried again and maybe I repeated two inches of movement.

"Perhaps you did not understand us," a voice from above spoke firmly. I could see feet uncomfortably close to me and could feel her body heat up and down my naked body. "You must complete this set. This is not an optional exercise," she said in a calm but firm voice. "I will give you one more attempt to raise your torso. Begin now," she commanded.

I tightened my abs as best as I could and tried valiantly to raise my torso more than a couple of inches. All of the sudden, both sides of my ass exploded with intense pain from a barrage of percussion instruments I could not see. The super sting of one was perhaps the inch think rubber paddle. The depth and duration of the other may well have been a cane.

We're talking intense pain here. More than I had ever experienced in the dungeon and I reflexively yelled "RED," referring to the safe word for stop. I heard a little laughter and perhaps in response to that jolts of electricity starting pulsing through my cock and balls and all the way down to my anal sphincter. I could feel sweat pouring off my face, caused not by exertion but by intense pain.

I screamed in agony and struggled to raise my torso. The beating was rapid, as if I were the taught skin on a snare drum, and so intense that the sting and burn went deep into my body. It was relentless. The electrical jolts were enough to help me lift about five more inches but then I quickly fell back to the starting position.

Just as I did, I could feel burning pricks on my, well, prick. I was either being pierced or clamps were being put on around the head of penis. There were a few gentle tugs on the nipple clamp chain. Tugs, yes, but enough to send pain deep into my already tender nipples.

"I may have mentioned this before, " a voice said into my ear, " but this set is not optional. Raise up 90 degrees, hold for two seconds, lower in a controlled motion." She began counting down from 10 and I was in extraordinary pain. I knew relief would come only after I completed these reps. Failure was simply not an option.

As her count neared one I tensed my abs muscles and when ordered started to raise my torso. This move was accompanied by a beating on my taught balls. The sensation was like having a baseball hit the balls and sent pain all through my genitals and up, or in this case down, into my stomach area. The firm yank on the nipple chain meant I had searing pain all over my body. Pain from which I had only one escape.

Somehow I managed to raise up to the 90 degree position, and as I did the intensity of the pain suddenly lessened. Somehow I had it in me to hold that position and then slowly lower to the start position. I did it!