Chapter 161: Beach Body Ready
The lavender soap scent was cloying, thick as syrup in the still kitchen air. Rupert stood by the table, his gaze fixed on the December calendar page, its single gold star a stark, bright point in a sea of white squares. He could still feel the ghost of that star, the plastic cage pinching his skin beneath his sweatpants.
Margot breezed in, a cardboard box in her arms. She dropped it on the table with a soft thump. It was unremarkable, brown, sealed with clear packing tape.
“Our holiday,” she announced, slicing the tape with a thumbnail. “I’ve finalized the booking.” She flipped open the flaps and pulled out a glossy brochure. The cover showed a crescent of pristine white sand against turquoise water, elegant bungalows on stilts nestled in palm trees. It looked idyllic, expensive. “The ‘Azure Pearl’. Exclusive. Adults-only.”
Rupert took the brochure. The water looked unreal. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s a dedicated resort,” she said, her voice dropping to that conspiratorial pitch that made his stomach tighten. “For the lifestyle. For women like me, and companions like you. It’s run by a Dominatrix named Mistress Corvina. Very strict, very elegant. A complete immersive experience.” She tapped a manicured finger on a photo of a lavish open-air lounge. “No vanilla guests. No awkward explanations. Just a week of absolute… freedom.”
The word hung between them, heavy with implication. A week of gold stars.
“At the beach,” Margot continued, flipping the page to a shot of a man jogging along the shore, muscles defined under the sun. “Which means, my love, you’ll be in swimwear. A lot.” Her eyes swept over his soft middle, the slight slump of his shoulders. “We need to tone you up. No more accountant’s paunch. I want you looking like a proper cuckold. Lean.Worn. Useful.”
Rupert felt a flush creep up his neck. “Tone me up?”
“I’ve enrolled you in a month of intensive training. A fitness camp.” She smiled, all mischief. “You’ll report to the village gym every morning at seven. Abby is expecting you.”
Abby. The fitness instructor. Late forties, relentless cheer, legs like steel cables. She taught Pilates in the church hall. She knew Margot from the WI.
“Abby knows?” The question was out before he could stop it, his voice thin.
“Abby is experienced,” Margot said, emphasizing the word. “She understands the… specific needs of men in your position. The need for discipline. The channeling of… frustrated energy.” Her eyes flickered to his groin. “She’s been fully briefed. You’ll do exactly what she says.”
From the box, Margot then lifted a heavy, bulk-sized cardboard package. She placed it on the table with a definitive thump. It was plain, white, with only a simple, discreet line of text: One Hundred Premium Condoms.
Rupert stared at the block.One hundred. The number was obscene.
“My own pre-holiday routine,” Margot said, running a hand lovingly over the sealed package. “While you’re at the gym, sweating and straining, I’ll be here. Getting my pussy ready. Breaking it in. A hundred is probably overkill, but I like to be prepared.” She leaned forward, her scent enveloping him—jasmine, sex, power. “We’ll be working towards the same goal, you see? You, shaping your body. Me, shaping my capacity.Getting stretched. Getting used to taking multiple loads, day after day. So by the time we’re on that beach, my cunt will be a well-oiled machine, and you’ll look the part of the devoted slave fetching my drinks.”
She walked around the table and cupped his face. Her hands were warm. Her expression softened, genuine affection in her eyes. “Thank you, Rupert. You have no idea how happy you’re making me. How alive I feel. This… all of this… it’s everything I ever fantasized about.”
She kissed him, a deep, searching kiss that tasted of mint and betrayal. He could feel himself straining pointlessly against the rigid plastic cage, a dull, aching throb.
“Now go,” she whispered against his lips. “Your first session is in twenty minutes. Abby doesn’t tolerate lateness.” She patted his cheek. “I’ve got my own appointment here at eight.”
She turned him by the shoulders and gently pushed him toward the door. As he shrugged on his coat, he saw her lift the box of condoms, a gleam in her eye. He stepped out into the brittle winter morning, the image of that cardboard block seared into his mind.
The village gym was a converted warehouse, smelling of old sweat, disinfectant, and rubber. At seven on a Tuesday, it was empty except for Abby, who stood by the mirrored wall, sipping from a shaker bottle. She was in tight black leggings and a vibrant pink sports bra, her grey-streaked dark hair in a severe ponytail.
“Rupert!” she boomed, her voice echoing. “Right on time. Margot said you would be.”
He nodded, mutely.
“Change room’s there,” she said, jerking her thumb. “Strip down to your trainers. And the device, of course. Margot was very specific. I need to assess your base mobility without clothing restrictions.”
His face burned. He shuffled to the change room, a dank cubicle with a broken bench. He peeled off his layers, the cold air raising goosebumps on his skin. He stood for a moment, looking at his reflection: pale, soft, the ugly black plastic chastity cage a glaring contrast against his flesh. He felt grotesque. He pulled his trainers back on and walked out, covering himself futilely with his hands.
Abby’s eyes gave nothing away as they scanned him clinically. “Good.Okay. Let’s get a look at you.” She walked around him. “Posture’s awful. Core is non-existent. Glutes are asleep. We’ve got our work cut out for us, Slave Blue.”
The use of the name was a cold shock. She knew everything.
“We’ll start with dynamic stretching,” she said, businesslike. “Then bodyweight circuits. No weights yet. We need to wake up the supporting muscles before we load them.” She smiled, but it wasn’t warm.It was knowing. “Your wife is a remarkable woman, Rupert. Such… creative energy. I admire her commitment to her training. And yours.”
For the next forty-five minutes, she put him through a gentle, humiliating hell. He lay on his back, knees bent, performing pelvic tilts as she criticized the disconnect between his upper and lower body. He did bird-dogs, trembling as she poked his sagging glutes. “Engage! Think of Margot. Think of why you’re doing this.” He did planks, his arms shaking, the plastic cage digging into his thighs, while Abby squatted in front of him.
“She’s probably getting her first stretch right about now,” Abby said conversationally, checking her watch. “A fresh young thing, home from uni. All that pent-up energy. I bet he’s pounding her silly on your marital bed. You’d be amazed what a motivation that can be. Now, hold that plank. Don’t you dare sag.”
At that exact moment, Margot was guiding a nervous, lanky young man named Leo up the stairs. He had floppy brown hair and wore thick-framed glasses, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He smelled of cheap laundry detergent and adolescent anxiety.
“Just in here,” Margot said brightly, leading him into the bedroom. The bed was neatly made, the winter sun casting a pale rectangle on the duvet. She had already opened the box of condoms and placed a strip of them on the nightstand.
“I… I’ve never really…” Leo stammered, his eyes huge behind his glasses.
“Shhh,” Margot said, unbuttoning her blouse. “It’s easy. I’ll show you.” She let the blouse fall, revealing her full breasts, the pale flesh, the dark nipples. Leo’s mouth dropped open. She unzipped her skirt and let it pool at her feet. She stood before him in just a pair of simple black knickers. “Take your clothes off, Leo. Don’t be shy.”
He fumbled with his jeans, his fingers clumsy. When he was naked, he was thin, pale, half-erect. Margot took his hand and placed it on her breast.“See? Nice and easy.” She then hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her knickers and pushed them down, stepping out of them. She was already wet, her red curls glistening. The little golden bell on her piercing gave a soft ting as she moved.
“Lie down,” she instructed, pushing him gently onto the bed. He scrambled back, his cock now fully hard, jutting from his body. Margot smiled, crawling over him. She took him in her hand, gave him a few slow strokes, then rolled a condom down his length with practiced efficiency. “You have a lovely cock, Leo. Nice and thick.”
She positioned herself over him, lowering her body slowly. She was so wet he slid in without resistance. A sharp, guttural gasp escaped him.
“Oh, fuck,” he whimpered.
“That’s it,” Margot murmured, beginning to rock, taking him deep. “Just like that.Use me. Fuck this married pussy. It’s all for you.” She braced her hands on his chest, her curls bouncing, her breasts swaying. The bell ting-ting-tinged with every movement.
She set a ruthless, steady rhythm. Leo’s hands fluttered at her hips, unsure where to grab. His eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth slack. He was already losing control.
“Don’t come yet,” Margot ordered, her voice a low, commanding purr. “You hold it. You make it last. You’re going to fill this condom for me, aren’t you? You’re going to pump your student load right up into my used cunt.”
He nodded frantically, whimpering. Margot leaned forward, letting her breasts brush his face. “Taste them,” she whispered. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, biting gently. She moaned, arching her back, taking him even deeper, feeling him twitch inside her. She increased her pace, slamming down onto him, the bedsprings creaking in a sharp, rhythmic complaint.
“You’re my good little slut,” she gasped, riding him hard. “Fucking your mum’s WI friend. Bet you never dreamed of this, did you?”
He shook his head, a strangled cry in his throat.
“Come on then,” she hissed, her own climax building, a tight, familiar coil. “Fill me up. Now.”
It was all the permission he needed. His body seized, his back arching off the bed. A series of ragged, desperate groans tore from his lips as he emptied himself inside the condom, his hips bucking helplessly beneath her. Margot rode out his orgasm, then, with a few more urgent grinds of her own, let go, a sharp cry escaping her as she clenching around him, the fluttering pulses milking the last drops from his shuddering body.
She collapsed on top of him for a moment, both of them slick with sweat. The bell was silent. The only sound was their ragged breathing and the distant rumble of a passing lorry.
She lifted herself off him, careful with the condom. She tied it off and dropped it in the bin by the bed. “Very good,” she said, patting his heaving chest. “For a first timer. Now, you should probably get going. I’ve got a lot to do today.”
Rupert was on his back, legs in the air, performing a dying-bridge exercise, his hips burning, the cage a constant, hateful presence. Abby stood over him, arms crossed.
“Ten more seconds! Think of your wife! Think of her getting railed by some stranger while you’re here proving your devotion!”
He groaned, his body trembling violently. The image was no longer abstract. It was specific. It was a lanky boy, a student, in his bed, on his wife, right now. He could almost hear the bedsprings, the slap of flesh, her commanding moans.
The buzzer on Abby’s timer went off. “And time!” she chirped. “Excellent. We’ll meet again tomorrow, same time. Don’t be late.” She tossed him a towel. “Go home. Rehydrate. You’ve earned it.”
He dressed slowly, every muscle protesting. The walk home was a blur of cold air and searing mental images. He let himself in through the front door. The house was quiet, but it felt different. Charged. The scent of sex lingered in the warm air, mixed with the lavender soap—a cloying, intimate perfume.
Margot was in the living room, curled on the sofa in a silk robe, reading a book. She looked up, her face glowing, her eyes lazy and satisfied. “How was it, darling?”
He couldn’t speak. He just stared.
She smiled, a slow, cat-like smile.“Good. You look wrecked. Perfect.” She marked her page and set the book down. “Go shower. You smell of the gym.” She stretched, the robe falling open to reveal a flash of inner thigh, a fresh, red mark. “I’m just going to rest here a bit. That first one was… vigorous. I have another one coming at ten.”
Rupert turned and walked numbly up the stairs. In their bedroom, the bed was neatly re-made. The room smelled of open windows, cold air, and something else—a sharper, animal scent. On the floor, beside the bin, lay a single, empty condom wrapper, its foil gleaming in the strip of sunlight from the window. He picked it up. It was warm.