Cruel FemDom Fitness Training Camp

No sooner had I returned to the start position than the intense pain resumed. It may have even been more intense after I heard the word, "up!" Once again excruciating pain seared through my nipples, my abs, my cock and balls, my ass, my inner thigh, my anus. I had to repeat that rep again. I had to.

I don't know how I managed to do it but I got through all 15 reps. I don't know how long it took but it seemed to actually become slightly easier toward the end; perhaps because I put forth such an effort to make the pain ease off for awhile. I was hanging upside down, exhausted.

When they righted and released me from the inversion machine I could barely stand. I could see in the large mirror that my ass was covered with hash marks and was glowing a deep pink. My balls looked unusually large and even the slight breeze from the air conditioning reminded me how sore my nipples had become.

Mistress Blake walked right up to me. She was in my face and I trembled. "You've got to do that faster next time," she said firmly. "You've got to complete that set 17 more times before you leave and I expect you to put forth more effort in the future."

Upon hearing those words and contemplating their meaning I took a hasty two steps toward the waste can by the food table and proceeded to vomit repeatedly into it.

CHAPTER 10: A Break at Last

After I finally quit vomiting I was ordered to go to the sink in the processing room to brush my teeth, floss and rinse with mouthwash. A trainer pointed to the exam table which had its midpoint covered with clear plastic bags containing ice chips. "Up," she commanded. Then as if reading my mind, added, "we need to reduce the swelling and bruising to keep you in good condition for continued intense motivation." She chuckled as if to herself. "UP!" she repeated, louder this time. I climbed onto the exam table and as my ass touched the icy bags I first felt pain. Pressure pain. I was obviously sore and chaffed down there. Next came the sensation of burning as the crushed ice bag became a molded seat for my smoldering ass.

Apparently I was moving too slowly in response to the tactile encounter with the ice. Strong hands thrust my hips to the table and a two-inch wide leather belt secured them immobile to the exam table. My legs were almost instantly secured by stirrups and my arms bound to the table, several leather straps securing each arm and leg to its restraining surface.

They removed my shoes, socks and ankle weights so that even my feet were placed upon near vertical panels and secured with leather straps. Upon realizing I was completely immobilized a bit of panic started to set in. "Take very deep breaths and exhale slowly each time," a voice from behind commanded. "Continue deep breathing while we work on you." Work on you? My concern amplified.

"He'll need nutrition in addition to the D5W, " I heard a voice say. Minutes later I felt a prick near my wrist and realized someone had started an IV. No sooner did I comprehend what was going on than two trainers positioned themselves on either side of me.

One trainer was the rather firm and toned, if not bulky, blonde from the kitchen. The other was the thin brunette I had already developed a crush on. They began massaging my thighs and abs. Firmly. I mean it was not a pleasant massage. They were going deep, presumably to release the lactic acid which had built up from intense exertion.

Mistress Blaine approached me, holding in her right hand one of those large, red party cups typically used for beer. With her other hand she was bending the straw which she put up to my lips without hesitation. "Drink," was all she said. The thick liquid was extremely sweet with a malty finish. My interpretation was that the thick goo was a nutritional supplement combined with protein powder. I didn't realize I was hungry until I began sucking down the horrible tasting but satiating amalgam of calories.

The intensity of the massage increased to the point where I worried that they were going to bruise me. My backside was becoming numb from the ice yet was a welcome reprieve from the pain of the beatings I received during exercising. As I relaxed I noticed each large monitor in the workout room and the "processing room" displayed the same video of me.

Through the glass partition, I could see the trainers carefully studying the video, occasionally pointing or moving a finger on the screen to show how I did, or perhaps didn't, correctly perform an exercise. Every now and then the camera would move in tight on my genital area. It was unbelievably humiliating when they showed footage of my jumping jacks which was made with the slow motion camera. I could see my belly slowly rise and fall. It could have been made entirely of Jello the way it moved. Then in giant living slow-mo appeared my small penis bobbing up and down and around as loud laughter erupted from the observers. I never felt so naked.

The trainers rarely explained what they were doing or what was happening next. Three of them at once began freeing the leather restraints until, freed at last, I was told to follow. With one in front leading the way and two in back we traversed the hall to the back door, taking a step down onto a deck made of two-by-six planks stained in a deep brown. A trellis top provided shade.

A large whirlpool spa sat to the right on the corner closest to the training building. It was one of those above ground spas so there were steps built of the same decking material to provide ingress and egress to the jet-nozzle powered whirling water. This time they didn't even bother to use words. A simple pointing gesture was all I needed to cause me to proceed up the steps and into the very hot synthetic geyser.

Made more sensitive because of the ice treatment, I felt as if I were being scalded. Yet, somehow I managed to submerse up to my neck in the fiery liquid. I suddenly had to few seconds to contemplate the activities and realized that already I was becoming conditioned to obey commands without conscious thought.

I had just climbed those steps and immersed into the spa without even thinking about what I was doing. My body just followed their instructions. As I thought about their increasing control of me I could feel the large inflatable plug still inside me. With each slight movement in the spa it quite clearly targeted my prostate and I found myself becoming quite aroused as a result. The last thing I wanted to do was emerge from the tub with a glaring hard on.

Apparently I had no choice in that matter. Mistress Blane, who was standing about ten feet from the spa while chatting with three other trainers, caught my eye and said in a voice loud enough to be heard throughout the whole compound, "Out!"

All eyes were on me as I stood and I could see amused looks as four beautiful and incredibly fit women saw my erect cock arise from the water and bob up and down as I went down the steps. When my feel reached the floor I stood there, dripping. "Did you forget your at-rest position already? This soon?" Mistress Blane asked in a seemingly friendly voice.

She turned to the tall, thin brunette trainer (my crush) who had just emerged from the building. "Add 200 reverse crunches, 25 per set," Mistress Blane commented to the brunette, who promptly went back inside, presumably to add punishment exercises to the list on the white board.

While that transpired I quickly placed my interlaced fingers on my head and spread my legs wide. I felt cold from the abrupt shift from the hot water to the cool air and I could feel water droplets running down my back, down my chest, down my legs. I had a feeling drying off with a towel was not going to be an option.

The group of trainers continued to talk in hushed voices while they looked in my direction, their eyes cast downward toward my very hard and very exposed organ, which twitched every now and then as a result of my failed attempts to make it softer, but no too soft and tiny.

"Follow me," Mistress Blane barked. The other trainers followed behind me and I could feel their gazes burn into me as we walked. She didn't need to tell me to stand in the spotlight in the center of the room. I gravitated toward it as I was expected to do and got into position with my hands on my head and my legs spread. The trainers spread out around the room such that eyes were on me from every possible angle. The monitors continued to feature me on the display, now shown doing high knees while I was wincing to get through each rep.

I had a strong feeling I didn't want to hear what I was about to hear next.

Oh no, here we go again!

The strong blonde approached me, so close she was invading my personal space and I could feel the heat from her body intensely as the look on her face became more focused. "You've been processed and have completed your first cycle," she said, her face just inches from mine. I held riveting eye contact with her fearing that to turn away would not be such a good idea.

"It's ten am," she continued and then paused. My head swirled. Ten am? It's only ten am? How am I going to survive this? Finally, she spoke, "You are required to complete at least twelve cycles today. You must focus on working through each exercise. You must focus on working through the pain.

You must complete every single rep of every single exercise. Failure to complete a set, always in proper form, is not an option." She paused again. "Failure to complete an assigned exercise is not an option. We will make you complete each exercise if you can't make yourself do it." Another long pause. All eyes were on me.

She pointed to my shoes, socks and ankle weights which had been placed on the front door. I retrieved them and, stepping back into the spot light, I asked if I may sit down to put them on.

"Good boy," she said, suggesting that I asked an appropriate question. Once I had the shoes and weights on I got back into the required position.

Still in my face, the strong blonde gave a direct order, "It's time for your next run. Now get outside. Hustle, move it, act like each step is an emergency; urgent!" Then as she started a make-haste clapping sound she continued in a staccato voice, "go-go-go-go-go-go-go-go-go!"

I ran quickly outside and took position as expected between the two carts which had almost instantly been occupied by trainers. This time there was no explanation. I knew what to do. My muscles were already tired, the ankle weights made my legs feel as if they were moving in a tar pit, I was naked, vulnerable, humiliated. As the lead cart pulled away, bumping off the concrete platform onto the compressed dirt road, I instinctively followed.

We started out a bit slower than last time and I could, for a precious moment, contemplate my situation. I had just experienced what was singularly the most intense workout of my life as well as the most intensely painful experience I had ever, ever endured at the hands of a Mistress.

A familiar though resonated through my head. How did I get myself into this? I developed a raw feeling in my stomach as an overwhelming sense of dread blanketed my thoughts. Yes, I was truly terrified. I knew they would elicit every last exercise from me and I knew this was going to be a difficult journey.

I could not fathom how I was going to survive twelve more of these cycles today and then have to repeat the whole scenario again tomorrow. It seemed so impossible, so terribly impossible. The only thing that could be worse would be being uncollared by Mistress V.

If Mistress V uncollared me my world would collapse around me. My life would be destroyed. She nurtured me as a green sub, gave me more second chances than I deserved and is giving me this opportunity to show Her how She is the most important person in my humble life. I must not fail. There is too much at stake.

A brief but searing pain ripped through my ball sack and forced my sphincter to close hard around the inflatable plug. I was almost ten feet behind the lead cart now. Before I had a chance to think about my next move I felt my body exert itself to propel me into the safety zone.

They had taken control of my body just as they had planned to do.

Bedtime

Almost midnight. There were no clocks in the training building but I caught a glimpse of a trainer's wrist watch. It had been dark for several hours so I knew it was getting late.

I had just emerged from my last stint in the whirlpool spa and was being inspected while standing in the circle of light. I knew the lead trainers were disappointed that it took until midnight to complete the day's twelfth cycle. My interpretation was that they hoped twelve cycles would be the minimum and hoped for at least two more. I certainly did not appreciate being the cause of their disappointment.

"Mistress Blake?" I inquired quietly as she stood about a yard away.

"You have permission to speak, slave," she replied.

"It would be my honor and privilege to complete the punishment exercises on the list at this time," I uttered, trying to disguise my intense dread for these painful exercises. I had hoped she would need some time to contemplate my request.

"Take position on the mat, now, instantly," she commanded. "Start at the top of the list. Complete the total number of reps in sets shown in parentheses," she added, not needing to either point or look at the list.

It must have taken me at least an hour to complete the exhausting list of crunches, reverse crunches, full situps, planks, leg raises and squat thrusts. I would not have been able to complete them without being attacked by a barrage of percussion implements, nipple clamps and anal and genital jolts of intense electrical current. I could not risk postponing any exercises until tomorrow only to have the required number double, literally overnight.

There were no kind words of congratulation or atta boys when I finished the punishment exercises. Perhaps to them it was just like any other day. To me it was a day in hell.

A voice from behind commanded, "remove your shoes and socks. Set them by the back door. Put the ankle weights on the dumbbell rack." I hoped they didn't see me breathe a sigh of relief when I recognized the day was finally coming to a close. I did as she instructed, relieved but still feeling the intense gaze from a room filled with beautiful and incredibly fit women.

"Go urinate in the toilet, take a one minute shower then brush and floss your teeth." I couldn't see who said that. Perhaps some sort of night crew.

I complied, sitting as required on the toilet as I drained my bladder. It took a while for the stream to start because there were always several sets of eyes on me at any given time.

Warm water from the showerhead blasted the dried sweat salt from my skin and felt quite wonderful. For a split second I forgot that I was showing in a corner having no curtain or walls to protect my modesty. Until I made eye contact with a trainer and suddenly felt so very vulnerable again.

Fearing I would run over the minute mark I turned off the water and assumed that neutral position. I knew there would not be towels offered to dry off after that wonderful shower. When the drip volume decreased I went over to the sink and finished preparing for bed.

A voice from the adjoining room ordered me to get on my knees on the exam table, legs spread, arms on head. I quickly obeyed, being careful not to slip as a result of my still wet body. All the trainers entered the room. Three started completely immobilizing me with the requisite buckles and straps. The others stood in a semi-circle facing the table.

Once I was secured to their satisfaction a trainer who I had never heard speak approached, standing right between my legs, facing me. She was an Asian woman, tall, about 5'8", deep brown eyes, bangs straight across her forehead. Wearing a workout bikini she showed off a perfectly toned and trained body. She was wearing exam gloves.

Someone handed her the tubing with the pressure bulb on it. I could feel pressure on the base of the anal plug when it connected to the pressure bulb. The plug released its content of air in a whoosh lasting only a few seconds. When she removed the plug I felt a much more wonderful sensation than I had anticipated.

After more than twelve hours wearing the inflatable plug I must have been in considerable discomfort. But the pain from exercise and beatings distracted me from noticing the discomfort.

The Asian trainer picked up a bottle of clear lube from a rolling metal instrument table. She slathered the shiny substance all over her right hand. I didn't need to guess what came next.

With a firm push the Asian trainer inserted at least one, perhaps two, perhaps even three fingers inside me. I gasped at the sudden intrusion and instantly felt what felt like an urgent need to pee. Some of the other trainers moved in closer to see the Asian's technique.

"So once I get my whole hand in there I will be able to very thoroughly massage the prostate. Much more effective than massage with just two fingers," she explained to the onlookers. She required me to take deep breathes followed by very slow exhalations. The sense of fullness was now overshadowed by pain, a stretching pain. I worried that she would rip my sphincter and cause physical damage.

The anal pain would ebb and flow as the Asian trainer masterfully inserted her hand further and further each time. If I groaned with pain a hand would quickly and firmly cover my mouth to silence me. I knew her hand was all the way inside me when my sphincter suddenly closed with a snap around her narrow wrist. I not only felt full, I felt personally invaded. This woman had, against my will, inserted an entire appendage into my body. I also knew that I shouldn't even think thoughts like that lest my facial expressions betray me.

When she started to massage my prostate my cock sprang instantly to full attention. She got the observers to chuckle because she could direct my cock to jump by how she massaged inside me. A prostate hand job is very different than a one or two finger milking.

For one, I felt abundantly full. Full. This fullness seemed to exaggerate my belly and certainly made me more self-conscious. Then there was this strong and intermittent to continual feeling of impending orgasm. It's like being right on that edge when you can't hold it any more and bursts of hot cum spew from an excited penis. Only there was no explosive relief.

I knew what was going on and was disappointed and depressed when precum starting oozing out and dripping from the edge of my penis head right into a magically appearing plastic cup. The precum gradually turned to full blown cum and drained in a slow but continuous stream for another 10 minutes or so.

I remained secured to the exam table while the Asian used moist towelettes to clean around my genital area. I was grateful for that. It was perhaps my first reprieve all day. Until they laughed.

Completely drained of its vital juices my penis was at its tiniest. It looked like a baby's, virtually an inch in length. A couple grabbed camera phones and snapped closeups from several angles. All I needed was to be reminded of my shortcomings by sightings on Facebook.

I came back to reality again when I felt cool sponges swabbing me, one on my hip and one on my belly. Shortly thereafter I was injected with HGH in my belly area and testosterone in my hip. That one hurt.

The buckles and straps were released and I was ordered to get on my knees, on the exam table, facing the side and with my legs spread. Hmm, what next?

I hadn't noticed it before, perhaps because it is made of clear acrylic, but I did notice as the Asian trainer picked up a CB3000 chastity device from the instrument table. The other trainers moved in closer to watch. Perhaps some had never seen this before.