The Emperor has No Clothes

Strong fingers trapped her stiff nipples and squeezed, making Grace scream. As if it had suddenly recalled a duty it knew well, her tongue extended and teased its way between the fleshy lips pressing into her face, stimulating and collecting more nectar.

Grace wasn't sure if she'd had multiple orgasms on the bench, or just a single really long one. She thought the woman perched on her face climaxed too, but all of those things were inconsequential compared to the mighty erection that simultaneously rewarded her and pushed her to new heights of sensation.

Suddenly she was empty and gasped at the loss, vaguely surprised to realize she could. Grace opened her eyes to find Coach Joan staring down at her, looking flushed, but all she could think of was Coach Rod, who grinned - or was it a grimace? - as his cock began pumping a prodigious quantity of jism onto her sweaty body.

Another jet of semen caught the side of her face, and Grace realized the crowd had moved closer, all of them jacking spunk onto Jeni and herself. Wade's cock jerked repeatedly, unloading a torrent onto Jeni's tits and stomach.

It was beautiful to watch, and Grace realized it was mean of her to begrudge Jeni the use of such a fine cock - especially when she'd had the benefit of Coach Rod's attention herself. She couldn't even work up any annoyance at the realization it was a male trainer, hairless balls glistening with saliva, who stood at the head of Jeni's bench.

The watchers began to wander away, their immediate needs sated. Coach Joan smiled at Grace, then shared some unspoken message with Coach Rod before departing. The Coach just gave Wade and Grace each a nod, and turned to address one of the other trainers.

"Oh, wow," Jeni panted, slowly sitting up and spreading the cum across her body with both hands. "That was an awesome exercise, Wade! I owe you big time." She turned to look at the redhead. "Sorry, Grace. I was trying to follow what you were doing, but I just couldn't concentrate, I guess. Will you be mad if I ask you to show me again, next time?"

Grace realized she was smearing the male seed across her skin, too. It felt soothing, so she didn't stop. "It's fine, Jeni. I'm learning, too." The words were out of her mouth before she realized they were absolutely true.

"I don't know about you two," Wade announced, "but I'm starving. If we hit the showers now, we can be first in line for lunch!"

They walked across the workout room together; Grace was quiet, listening to Jeni's enthusiastic chatter with a corner of her mind. Was it wrong to say nothing and be a party to the unknowing degradation of the others around her? She stopped suddenly and looked across at the bleachers along the side of the room, but they were unoccupied. A scan behind her showed they were no longer the center of attention; scattered grunts and moans sounded from the others nearing the climax of their workouts.

Grace resumed walking, studying Wade's ass and then Jeni's. What would they look like, stretched by Coach Rod's tool, or by Grace's hands? The redhead felt her arousal returning, fueled by the speculation. How many people had she fucked, what acts had she performed, that she couldn't remember? Well, she was remembering now, and enjoying it!

If being forced to lick Coach Joan was the price Grace had to pay to get the fucking of her life - and, frankly, it hadn't been *too* distasteful, once she'd gotten started - then it was a price she could pay. Grace told herself she'd just concentrate more on the boys; was it *really* true they didn't cum? Her pussy contracted just thinking about finding out.

"You're awful quiet," Jeni observed in the showers. "Are you thinking about doing it with Wade?" she added, an exaggerated leer on her face.

"Among other people," retorted Grace, for once without a trace of embarrassment. "Luckily for you, I'm not into girls. Otherwise, I might just take advantage of you."

They both laughed.

Coach Rod watched the woman pace slowly across his office, the heels of her boots clicking on the wood flooring. From experience, he could guess what she would say before the words left her mouth; it was too early for their meeting, but it wasn't his place to say so.

"I admit it," the woman sighed, "the little flame-haired cunt is quite delightful. "The pictures really didn't do her justice, but I suppose that's my good fortune, isn't it?"

She waved her hand imperiously in his direction, making it clear it was a rhetorical question. His visitor tossed her head, doubtless trying to rein in her impatience, and asked the question the coach was dreading. "When will she be ready?"

Rod pursed his lips and tried to contain his nervousness. "At least a week." The woman's eyes narrowed, and he hurried on. "The conditioning's been working great, but she only graduated to stage three a few days ago. Really, we weren't expecting her to move up until next year."

"That's your problem," she responded dismissively. "But her performance with that other girl - both of them, really - was unbelievably pathetic. Totally unacceptable!" She paused for a moment to look down her nose at him. "Not up to your usual standards, I must say."

"I completely agree, of course," replied Rod, trying to tread a line between understanding and obsequiousness. "But we're amping her full power, and she'll be dripping for pussy in no time." Being put in this position didn't make him happy, either, but there really wasn't a lot he could do other than try to steer the discussion back to their goals rather than Grace's admitted shortcomings. "Have you decided if you want lesbian, or just bisexual?"

"Bi, I suppose," the woman sighed, finally condescending to settle upon a chair in front of him. "Sometimes there are guests to consider." She leaned forward and fixed an unwavering stare on Rod. "But she'll be imprinted on me, of course."

"Of course," he echoed. Some might have been offended by her insistence on stating the obvious, or her tone of voice in saying it, but Rod wasn't one of them. Besides, by the time camp ended, it would be water under the bridge - and he knew his place.

She smiled as if reading his mind. "Just so," she purred, and reached out to snag the short leash attached to the sturdy leather collar about his neck. A brief, and unnecessary, tug brought him out of his crouch and onto his hands and knees.

Slave Rod's throbbing manhood bobbed beneath him, but he knew it wouldn't be called upon. Keeping his eyes lowered, he waited as the woman gracefully unfastened her wraparound dress, and then crawled forward to begin worshipping her exposed sex.

The subtle hitch in her breathing left precum leaking from the head of his shaft; while Rod derived great pleasure from finding and preparing new slaves for his masters and mistresses, there was still something to be said for the simplicity of direct, personal service.