I’ve had a fantasy about Ashlee Chambers for a while. She’s a fitness model, dominatrix, and pornstar, and (importantly for this story) a trainer. I met her on FetLife, which I joined on the advice of SheMuscle’s Brian Moss. You can find Ashlee on ashleechambers.com, her blog, and Shemuscle and DirtyMuscle, among other places. She’s also done a Bodybuilders in Heat video (which I own). I think about her a lot lately when I’m watching porn, because it’s often her porn. I also think when I think about girls—which is often, lately. My friend Mistress K has encouraged me to write this post with her sexy post about her first time with a girl. My first time is still in the future, and, in one of my favorite fantasies it’s with Ashlee.
[Thanks to Mistress K at Deviant Display for beta reading this story. I probably never would have finished it if I hadn’t promised it to her! It’s good to have a domme as your reader. 😉 ]
I’m standing. Barely. I’m stretching as I wait for my new trainer, Ashlee. Her methods are…different from what I’m used to. For one, I’m not wearing my running shoes, or even the Chuck Taylors I wear for lifting. Instead, I’m stretching in heels I can barely balance in. I can feel a burn all the way up the backs of my legs, because I’m bent so far forward. My calves are getting a workout, too, as I struggle to stay standing, quivering against the spreader bar that keeps my legs splayed wide. I’ve been bent forward for some time, now. I’ve got no choice. My arms are pinioned behind my back in a single leather sleeve that reaches from the tips of my fingers almost to my shoulders. My hands are attached to something above my head, so I have no choice but to maintain my bent position.
I’m waiting for Ashlee. I can’t tell where she is, because I’m wearing an antique gas mask whose lenses are blacked out. I can’t ask if she’s there, because I’ve also got a bit between my teeth, and I’m helpless to do anything about the saliva slowly sliding out of my wet mouth. I imagine it slithering down the hose of the mask, which sways as I move my head from side to side trying to catch a sound over breathing in the mask.
How did I get here? I wonder. I mean, I remember—I just don’t quite understand. Kraka said he’d found me a new trainer, one who specialized in getting clients ready for porn shoots and videos. I’ve been working to get in shooting shape to shoot for months without getting where I want to be, and Kraka said this woman, Ashlee, could help me. I’d imagined it would be a pole dancing class—you know: one of those empower-your-inner-vixen things. It wasn’t.
Ashlee had met me at the door and whisked me down to the basement gym. She was blond, cute, and extremely fit looking in her no-nonsense business clothes. She was also tiny—shorter than me, and I’m only 5′ 6.” But there was nothing shy or retiring about this woman, whose presence seemed to fill the room.
“You’re the client who wants to get in shape for…entertaining? The one who needs help…disciplining herself?” she’d asked, with the hint of a smile, her eyes boring into mine.
No one makes eye contact like that, I’d thought—it’s like being in a staredown with John Lydon. I’d looked down, stammering some kind of answer.
“Yes,” she laughed, softly. “You’re in the right place. Now, let’s see what we’ve got to work with.” And then she began to help me out of my clothes right there in the gym. No dressing room. No privacy. No choice.
When I tried to cover my hairless nudity as I changed, she’d simply pushed my hands away, gently but firmly. “You’re not here to cover up, are you, Riko?” When I’d reached into my gym bag, she took it from my hands, placing it to one side. She’d pointed instead at a very small amount of clothing folded on a weight bench. Ashlee’s training gear is…different from what I’m used to. Instead of a weight belt, I put on a waist nipper cinched tighter than any corset I’ve ever worn. My breasts were exposed. Instead of yoga pants and sneakers, I’d got sheer black silk mesh panties and thigh-high stockings. For my feet, heels so high that I’m afraid I will fall. It’s strange to feel such smooth, luxurious clothes for a workout.
As if sensing my confusion, Ashlee said “Your body, your muscles aren’t just for throwing weights around. You’ve got to learn balance and composure and endurance—mental and physical—too.” And then she began to pull the waist nipper tight, far tighter than I would have ever thought to do on my own. Under the care of her powerful hands, I felt like a child being dressed—but not by her mother.
There was a gallon jug of ice cold water by my side. Ashlee has told me that she expects me to drink all of it by the time we’re through. Hydration, she said, with a twinkle in her eye that I do not understand, is everything. I drank as she watched. She gestures, “Again.” And again. And again.
I struggled to find a comfortable way to hold myself erect in the unfamiliar heels as Ashley stared into my eyes again. I sensed that to look away now would be wrong, so I held her gaze. “The safe word is ‘quit,'” she said. “Do you understand?”
“Safe word? I don’t think…”
“‘Quit.’ I need to hear you say it.”
“I don’t expect to hear it again today. If you’re in trouble, you won’t hesitate to say it. But, because you trust me, and because I am in complete control of what happens in my gym, I don’t expect you to need say it. Do you understand?”
And, just like that, she’d begun to bind me. First the bit. Then the spreader bar. Then the mask. Then the arm binding. She was so calm and efficient, so matter of fact as she bound me, that I didn’t even think complain about any of it, until she began to slowly bend me slowly forward by lifting my arms behind me. Then I began to moan and shake my head, struggling with the bit.
She’d pulled the mask up, then. Her eyes searched mine, coolly assessing. “Did you say ‘I quit,’ Riko?”
I stared back. This was the moment, and we both knew it. If I said no, she’d let me go, I was sure of that. There’d be no fuss, no argument, no recriminations. But, also, no risk, no adventure, no surrender. I was, I knew at the very edge of a whole new category of experience. But which: fetish nirvana or nightmare? I knew there was a decent chance I’d regret holding my tongue, but there was no chance at all that I’d ever be able to forgive myself for backing out now. Besides, I felt a strange kind of trust, a bond I didn’t understand with Ashlee, that she would take care of me. Strange to feel for someone who’s putting a bit into your mouth, but…
I shook my head: No. I don’t quit. Do it. I’m in your hands. And that’s how I got here.
Much later, I’m blinking in the light. The gasmask is gone—now I’m wearing a full head mask with holes only for my eyes and mouth. My arms are free, and I’m barefoot now. My breasts are exposed, and my nipples are almost painfully erect, partly because it’s cold in this basement gym, but mostly because Ashlee is looking me up and down, assessing my body, seeing what she has to work with.
She has me point my toes to show off my huge calves, which please her. I’m happy, because I often think they might be too big. My weak arms clearly dismay her. I’m ashamed. She cups my ass when I flex my glutes, which clearly need more work from the expression on her face. Her hands linger there, however, and I begin to imagine that maybe she feels something of what I feel when I look at her.
Because I am looking at her, sneaking peeks as she inspects me head to toe, walking around me, bending to raise my foot (as though I were a horse) to inspect my pedicure, tsking at the fat I still have to lose along my waistline. I’m devouring her with my eyes. I’m eating her alive. I’m consuming her. She’s perfect, powerful, dangerous, intimidating. Her body is hard, sculpted, cut, and shredded. I would kill for her biceps, her shoulders, her ass, her pecs—her incredible breasts, pushed up by her corset, her nipples also exposed, engorged. Is she excited by me, or is it just the coolness of the room and her enthusiasm for training? I let myself hope that it’s at least a little bit for me. She’s intimidating in her physicality, even though she’s so small. She’s not nearly as big as the big girls, the huge FBBs (who I also love). But it’s her presence, her posture, the way she carries herself that is truly riveting, almost terrifying. You can’t look away from her. You want to please her. You can’t disobey her.
Inspection over, the workout begins. She takes me through a serious of exercises, fast and hard: first it’s burpees to warm up, then pushups to planks, then walking lunges, always drinking more water between each set. I’ve never worked harder for a trainer. I want to please her. I want to be the person she thinks she can make me. I begin to sweat, despite the coolness of the gym. I’m so full of water, it’s leaking out through my pores. The exercise is hard, fast, and rigorous, but, truth be told, I’m in pretty good shape—much of the perspiration comes from having such a sexy trainer looking at me, touching me, even occasionally complimenting me.
Ashlee’s voice as she commands, corrects, and exhorts, is always sharp and firm, but never loud—like a dog trainer on Animal Planet, I think, smiling to myself as work through my fifth set of straight leg deadlifts. Ashlee can see that my focus is wavering, and I get the crop, after my last rep is finished. That’s something you don’t see on TV; I can’t turn to look, but I know it’s left an angry red welt on my ass. “Focus, Riko, or I’ll have to punish you! Is that what you want?”
I don’t know the answer to that. I suspect it might be “Yes.” Fortunately she doesn’t require an answer.
Next it’s squats. Deep, deep squats. I can’t get far enough down to please her, so she makes me squat without the bar, holding the pose at the bottom. She stands behind me and positions my legs, roughly spreading my knees further apart.
“Imagine you’re fucking your man—you’re squatting above him, and you want to get as much of him inside you as you can. Come on,” she says, cupping my pussy. “You want him in here, don’t you?”
My clit is instantly swollen and hard against her palm, and my pussy is so wet that juices actually start to trickle down my leg. I’ve never been so wet.
“Well,” she says, “I can see that you do, you dirty girl.” Her hot hand remains on my pussy, and my legs begin to shake, both from the agony of holding the position so long and from the delicious sensation of Ashlee’s firm touch on my pussy. I begin to stand up, afraid I will fall. “What are you doing? Hold still! She says. “Did I say to move? Are you getting distracted again, by this?” She squeezes my pussy so hard that I see a white light in front of my eyes. “You can’t be distracted by anything! This is bodybuilding, but that doesn’t mean it’s just physical! It’s just as much mental, maybe more! You have to keep your mind focused.” She begins to rub my pussy, her palm caressing my labia and her fingers rubbing and pinching gently at my clit, which feels huge, hard, swollen. “You can’t let anything distract you. No matter how sweet or how painful.”
I begin to moan. I’m embarrassed, but I can’t help myself. My panties are soaked and so are the insides of my thighs. I’m close to coming, closer still to squirting. I’ve drunk so much water, and it’s all about to come spraying out. My legs begin to shake, and I know that I’m going to fall. Ashlee senses this and talkes some of my weight off my legs with the hand that’s on my pussy. The pressure pushes me over the edge, and I come, gushing all over Ashlee’s hands as I struggle to stay standing, mortified that I am flooding the gym floor with my juices, which just keep on coming. There’s a confusion as the orgasm causes my senses to go haywire, and I’m not sure if I’m squirting or pissing anymore. I’ve squirted before, but never like this. The sounds I make…it’s a good thing this gym is underground. Ashlee is strong—she holds me up until the orgasm mostly subsides, then lets me sink to the rubberized floor, jerking and twitching right there in my own puddle.
“Your endurance needs work, Riko,” she tells me, as I gasp to catch my breath. Your Vo2 must be awful. I think it’s time for some cardio breathplay. Lie back,” she commands.
As I watch from my back, Ashlee, standing above me, steps out of her panties, folds them, and sets them aside on a weight bench. I’m staring at the rippling, bunching, flexing muscles of her beautiful calves, quads, and ass as she moves. And then, when all is revealed, her gorgeous pussy, and her perfect clit, the fat pink glans already peeking out. She gives me a wicked smile. “Deep breaths, Riko. It’s time to test your lungs now.” I know what’s coming.
Ashlee stands above my head, and then begins to squat down above me. Slowly, slowly her pussy comes down and back toward my face. She may act as though she’s in control, but I can tell that she’s excited by what’s about to happen, too, because her fantastic clit is growing as she descends, becoming, longer and more swollen before my eyes. My mouth aches for it. And then, finally, it’s there, the glans slowly penetrating my pursed lips as she descends, until her entire glans is inside my mouth.
Who is this person I’ve suddenly become? Who is this persons who can’t get enough of the pussy in front of her? What happened to my nerves at the thought of licking another woman’s cunt for the first time? Forget licking, I’m sucking, I’m slurping, biting, straining to my neck to get her all the way inside my mouth, until she firmly presses me back down to the matt. She’s in still charge.
She bobs up and down there for a while, thrusting her erect clit into my mouth like a cock until it’s as hard as the hardest cock I’ve ever sucked on. When she’s ready, she sinks down to her knees and lowers her pussy mound to my mouth, labia to my lips, grinding her clit against my lips and teeth, saying “Catch your breath, Riko, you’re going to need it!”
I can’t breathe. It doesn’t matter; all I want is to keep devouring Ashlee’s slick, hairless pussy, whose hot juices begin to flow freely into my mouth, running down the side of my face, into my eyes, my hair, down my neck between my breasts…
As I begin to see gray in front of me she lifts off me and I gasp for air, yet strain my neck to continue devouring her. She lowers herself back onto me, and the process continues repeated over and over again, until I’m in another state of mind, an altered state in which my world is Ashlee’s pussy.
And then, just when I’m completely lost in the ecstasy of pleasuring her, I feel her hand on my clit, in my cunt, and, just like that, I’m exploding, I’m suffocating, I’m gasping, I’m hyperventilating, I’m squirting, I’m writhing, I’m gushing over and over and over again.
When I come to, Ashlee is holding me. I’m wrapped in a big soft towel, and she’s holding me in her strong arms. I’m cradled in arms, and, when I open my eyes, she’s smiling down at me. “Good job, Riko. I think you’ll do well here. I think we can make something of you. You’ve passed the test. Would you like to continue? If so, I’ll expect you to be here Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”
“That’s ‘Yes, Mistress Ashlee’ to you, from now on,” she says, smiling, but with a note of steel in her voice.
“Yes, Mistress Ashlee, I say,” shyly, burying my face against her soft chest to hide the fierce blush burning my cheeks.
I can’t believe it. I submitted, and loved it. I have a domme. I love the taste and feel of pussy against my lips and tongue. I got the workout of my life All that in the first session?
I think I’m going to like it here. Three nights a week.
In my fantasy, that’s the first time I ever taste another woman’s pussy. But it’s not the last.