Kate and Lucy
by Suziq
Day One



I am a very fit guy. Fitness is my profession. I stand 5'8" tall, weigh 140
pounds, and have virtually no body-fat. The 4% I do have means that I
constantly have the "ripped to shreds" look popular amongst bodybuilders - I
am often compared by my clients to the late great Bruce Lee, in physique if
not in skill at martial arts. Like the great man, I can bench just under two
and a half times my bodyweight, and I can perform numerous feats of strength -
fifty one-arm push-ups, five hundred sit-ups, a hundred hand-stand push-ups,
and so on. I have a grip strength that I thought until recently was beyond
compare, such that I can hang from a chin-up bar by one hand for well over
five minutes, and I can crush a FULL can of cola. I am extremely proud of my
forearms, which are without a doubt my best body part, being highly vascular
as well as perfectly muscled.

I work principally as a personal trainer, though I also take classes in karate
and gymnastics. I have been fit all my life, having been a national level
gymnast until I was eighteen, and then changing my focus to karate until I was
thirty. Now, at thirty-five, I no longer compete at karate, though I still
stay in practice, and remain the strongest puncher at my dojo, despite being
outweighed by 110 pounds by one of the other guys. I reached my personal goal
of being able to deliver four hard punches within a second when I was
twenty-nine, and though this peak is gone, I can still deliver two lefts and a
right within the second, and using this attack I have three times rendered men
weighing over two hundred pounds unconscious - not at the gym, of course, but
during the course of heated debates around my neighbourhood (which, you'll
understand, is not terribly salubrious).

Five weeks ago today, everything changed. I received a call from a woman in
Kensigton called Kate Garner. She explained that she had just taken up
residence there, and that having joined the gym my name had cropped up as the
best person to do personal sessions for her. Thinking nothing of the call, I
arranged to visit her house the following day and go through my training
schedules. I imagined her as another of the rich fatties that populate my
life, whose desire for a personal trainer has less to do with fitness than
with the fact that trainers, like nannies, are just "things that one has" -
status symbols. I paused briefly to consider her voice - which I had
considered terribly sensuous. She had a west coast USA accent, but with low,
probably affected slurs a la Jodie Foster, and it was very sexy. Sexier, I
mused, than her blubber-bod would probably turn out to be by a country mile.

Reader, I was wrong, as Jane Eyre might have said. I arrived at her very posh
Kensington mews just before the 9am we had agreed, and made a mental note to
not bother mentioning my fees - houses like this went for over two mill, and
that being the case I suspected that invoices at a hundred pounds an hour
would go down just as easily as ones for my usual rate of fifty. I rang the
bell, and the door was soon opened, to my surprise, by a very scrawny young
woman. Late twenties, a shock of black hair in a punky do, crop top and
jogging bottoms exposing most of her skinny midriff, as well as the beginnings
of hip-bones and a rib-cage. "Aha" I mused to myself. "This one we need to get
weight onto." Wrong again.

"Hi - you must be Sam; come in, Kate's waiting for you. I'm Lucy, by the way."
She proffered a bony hand for me to shake; I took it, and was pleasantly
surprised that she at least attempted to grip my hand. Of course, to say that
you can tell a lot about a person by their handshake is stuff and nonsense;
however I can say that I hate people who shake hands simply by placing their
hand in anothers, and moving it up and down. As we shook, I noticed her
checking out my forearms with a distinctly hungry look, so I made the muscles
writhe a bit by tensing them, teasing her a little (women either hate 'em or
love 'em - this one was a lover, and I made a note to take the opportunity
should it present itself. There's nothing in the unwritten book of the
client/trainer relationship that prohibits sex with sisters, friends, or
whatever the hell Lucy's connection was to my new client. But save it for
later).

I follwed her in, along an elegant wood-panelled hallway, through a massive
lounge the size of my flat, and then down a set of stairs into a sunny, sunken
garden room that was part greenhouse and part gym. As we walked, I had the
chance to check out Lucy's butt, which was being clung to by her jogging
pants. She had a little thin muscle there, betrayed by the convex flattening
of her cheeks as she walked; this was not the classic invisible arse of the
terminally diet-obsessed, but a proper, hard little runner's arse. Lucy was
built for endurance, I realised with a wolfish grin. I was going to enjoy her.

Nothing, however, could ever have prepared me for what I saw when I entered
the makeshift gym, and to this day I cannot believe it. You see, I have only
ever seen women bodybuilders on the tv. Never in my life until this meeting
had I ever encountered the mind-melting magnificence that is a bodybuilding
woman face to face. Now Kate Garner stood, wearing a skin-tight sports bra, a
pair of shorts and some Nikes, and looked to me as magnificent as a sunset.
She was smiling, and moving over to shake hands with me, and I was agape,
mouth open, staring at a set of abs that put mine to shame. I couldn't tear my
eyes away. I could hear Lucy saying "Sam, this is Kate. I'm her PA, by the way
- should have told you - sorry", but my eyes wouldn't acknowledge my ears,
fixed as they were on long, lean biceps with veins as thick as my pinkie
running like power-cables across them.

We shook hands. I winced. I winced. If I repeat it I may not get lost in the
moment. I winced. I have made grown men plead with me to stop hurting them,
simply by squeezing their hands. Flat out beg. Kneel down and blubber at me.
But Kate's grip was steel to my iron. Unyielding. I wondered if she was
testing me - there was a sparkle in her eye of some kind, to be sure - I went
flat out for a second; but she was right there with me, her long fingers like
bands of liquid pain around my smaller hand, and I had to relinquish the grip,
pulling away and smarting as I rummaged in my bag for paperwork. Incredible.

"You'll do," she murmured, and whispered something in Lucy's ear. The skinny
girl giggled, and then skipped out of the room calling "juice okay for you,
Sam ? Orange or grapefruit ?". I quit massaging my hand and called out
"grapefruit please", before suggesting to this great incredible Kate that we
start on through the preliminaries. She nodded her assent, and I pulled out my
body-fat scales, and a fold-out ruler; blood pressure monitor, calipers, all
the doo-hickeys that make my job seem more scientific (whereas what I actually
do is get paid to look nice, and be optimistic to people whilst they bemoan
their heaviness, on the whole).

"So," I began "let's start with your goals. What do you want to achieve ?" I
switched on the body-fat scales, calibrated them, and Kate stepped on. An even
eight percent; 190 pounds on the button. "You see with that kind of body-fat,
there's nothing my normal programme can offer you - mostly the people I deal
with need to come down from forty to twenty-five, and then they're happy.
You're already in, er, perfect condition, so I need to find a point to focus
on."

I liked the look her brown eyes darted when I called her perfect, so I thought
I'd push my luck. I broke out the ruler, stuck it to the wall with a dab of
blu-tack, and gestured that Kate should stand against it. Five eleven and a
half. "Fancy a laugh ?" I offered, pulling out a height to weight chart from
my bag. I drew my finger along the weight line until we reached Kate's 5'11
1/2" and thirteen and a half stone. "Sorry - you're clinically obese!" I
laughed, and Kate laughed, and I tore the chart in half and tossed it in my
bag.

"Clinically obese, yet I've never seen a woman in better condition, and I've
worked with olympic gymnasts." The compliment, I saw, had landed spot on
target. Kate brushed long, straight hair from her shoulders, and favoured me
with a subtle "thankyou" more sigh than speech. "Yes!" I thrilled inside, and
my mind's eye was already upstairs, doing the dirty.

"In terms of goals," she said, her soft brown voice firing lust across my
nerves ", I mostly want to make sure that my legs get under control, and I
also want a set of exercises that really, really kill my abs." She made a
knuckle as she said this last, and in time knocked it against her hard
stomach. The resulting noise was more like knocking at a door than flesh being
struck. "A lot of girls these days have really massive, super strong abs, but
in competition, I want to have a concave belly and smaller abs. It'll make my
chest look bigger if I go wasp-waisted, but I have to keep the definition at
all costs." She was running her finger along the lines that ran across her
six-pack - I could indeed see a little outward curve to her abs when she stood
side-on. Luck was in, with me, that day, thanks to an ex-wife yoga nut.

"Hatha Yoga", I said immediately. She raised an eyebrow. "The muscles inside
your stomach - the ones you use to suck your stomach in (at this I pulled up
my top and pulled my stomach in, hard, and marbled my sixers at the same time
- never hurts to show off the merchandise to a favourable client); those
muscles need building as strong as your abs - at that point your belly will
naturally curve in rather than out, and your waist'll look super-thin - not
that it's not tight enough at the moment, to be honest."

"And my legs ?"

"Cardio, and lay off the weights." Her legs were superbly powerful, but
objectively, I could see she'd over-trained them by comparison with her torso.
Subjectively, I wondered what it would feel like if she wrapped them round me.
She must be able to leg-press half a ton.

"We should also keep up your upper body strength work" I added, more to make
sure I got to be there when she worked her biceps than anything else. In
repose they looked incredible - I was beside myself to see how they would
look, pumped and curling half a hundredweight. "And probably go jogging. I'd
imagine you should try to go out with Lucy here, and build up her kind of
stamina." The young woman had come back into the room with drinks, and walked
straight into my compliment. I was on major league fire today.

Lucy grinned. "How did you know I run ?" She passed me a glass.

"Trainer's intuition." I winced at my own cheesiness. "And, no offence, but
you walk like a boy - you've stopped rotating your hips like a girlie girl as
you've built up runners' muscles."

"Lucy," Kate said "is obsessed with running. There's no way I could keep up
with her." A look I couldn't decipher, save that I sensed some lascivious
content, passed between the two women.

"You don't have to go out for as long as her - I'd say five miles a day should
do you." I started making some notes.

"And what about the fee ?" Kate had moved to read what I was writing, and sat
down to the right of me me, sufficiently close that I could smell her. Bath
smells and new sweat made an intoxicating combination. I wasn't expecting to
talk money.

"Er, I usually charge people..."

In an instant, everything changed, and my previous life was over. It was too
late for me, and I had not noticed the trap.

Suddenly the long fingers of Kate's right hand were softly pressing on my
groin, coaxing up an urgent and overwhelming erection that had been on the
verge of appearing ever since I spied Lucy's butt.

"I meant," she purred, running her right hand across my broad back and
gripping tight to my shoulder, stopping me from rising "what are you going to
pay us ?"

Lucy started dancing in front of the pair of us now, slowly and sensually,
running her hands over her small body, her eyes fixed on Kate's and her mouth
an urgent gash of lust. Kate laughed. "You see, Sam, you're the slave we are
looking for, and you are going to pay us twenty thousand a year, for the rest
of your life, for the privilege." My shocked mind grappled with this, as my
body fought the crushing strength that held me on the bench, and my groin
betrayed me, a full and throbbing erection now mutinous beneath my flannels.

"I can't pay you that - I'm not - it's stupid..." I was dumbfounded.

"In that case I will kill you. It's quite simple."

"You can't be serious..." I was too stunned to react.

Kate laughed, long and richly. I tried to struggle to my feet, my erection
killed by fear and revulsion at her threat. She laughed, and reached out a
lethal arm, grabbing my wrist in white-hot pain, and twisting. My forearms
bulged, the muscles worked and writhed and pulsed out power, which dashed
itself futilely against the strength that was in her hand. The pain was
intolerable. Her other arm shot out, a blur, grasped my free hand, and she
twisted too with that, so that my arms bent outward from my waist, and back.
She had not left her seat.

Lucy danced more intently now, her waist and hips moving from side to side,
cascading, gyrating, her eyes rolled back in erotic abandon, occasionally
flickering across Kate's electrifyingly hard body as it racked me with pain. I
sank to my knees, desperate to evade the searing agony that ripped down my
arms. With a sudden jolt, Kate pulled me to her, and I felt the air rush from
my lungs as she clenched me in a bear-hug so powerful that tears started to my
eyes. Her arms had pinned mine to my sides. She stood up abruptly, so I
wrapped my legs around her body and tried to crush her in return. My legs
worked - I squeezed with all my strength, but Kate just laughed again, and
crushed and squeezed, and I felt dizzy and lightheaded as the pain intensified
and I gasped for breath. I tried raising my arms from my body - my powerful
biceps strained and stressed, but there was no yielding in her magnificent
arms. I tried to head-butt her, but each time she twitched her head out of the
way, anticipating me, and laughed and laughed and spun and watched as Lucy
twirled and abandoned herself to lust, masturbating now as she swirled and
danced and gazed at Kate's inevitable power.

"You have one minute to live" Kate whispered in my ear, and tickled my
ear-lobe with her tongue. She tightened her grip once more - I could not
believe she had anything left - and I heard as well as felt it as one of my
ribs gave up the ghost and cracked. The pain was blinding, dizzying and
intolerable.

"Fifty seconds," she whispered to my bleary mind. "Unless you beg me to stop,
and agree to be my slave, and pay me for the privilege." Another burst of
power, and a second rib groaned and cracked. I was close to passing out from
the pain, and incapable of taking in fresh air. Kate was still breathing
easily, and taking tremendous pleasure from my agony.

"Forty seconds". My vision dimmed, and blood on my lips fell in tiny drops
onto her striated, iron chest as I rasped the words "I yield. I beg you, spare
my life. I will do anything you say - just let me live, please."

And Kate threw me to the ground, triumphant, and gathered Lucy up in her arms,
and hugged her, gentle as a breeze, as I passed out, finally and gratefully.

When I woke, I was in chains, and gagged. My ribs had been bandaged, and it
was clearly many hours later, since it was dark. I was laying on a narrow
matress in an alcove beside a bed, and I was chained, stretched out, my arms
above my head, and my ankles chained to the other side of the alcove. The
cuffs were padded, and not uncomfortable, and I had clearly had some
medication, since the pain from my ribs was dull and distant.

Time passed. I tried to get a handle on what had happened to me, but I just
couldn't. This was beyond my experience, and beyond my ability to cope. I just
lay, and panicked. I yanked and pulled at my bindings, but they were solid and
impervious to my efforts. I was terrified that Kate would come back and finish
me off, and I was utterly helpless. I just had to wait until I was free of my
bonds, and then try to escape this madhouse.

Later, a light came on in the room, and Kate and Lucy entered, paying me no
heed. They began moving round the room, getting ready for bed as if nothing
was happening. Kate wound her hair up into a bun; Lucy sat at a dressing-table
moisturising her face; Kate went and used the en-suite toilet, and emerged
cleaning her teeth; Lucy removed her clothes, and began spreading lotion on
her legs; Kate brushed Lucy's hair, teasing the knots out and gently massaging
her neck. Finally Kate stripped, and allowed Lucy to moisturise her powerful
form. I sensed a mood shift, as simple bedtime tasks transformed to erotic
behaviour, and horrified I realised the womens' actions were causing me to
become aroused.

Kate stood, still as a statue, as Lucy, with breathtakingly slow movements,
smoothed lotion into her marble-hard body. First her long thick legs were
oiled with the stuff; the contrast between Lucy's bony hands and sinewy
forearms, and the raw, powerful, animal strength of Kate's thighs was
electrifying, and my arousal became complete and overpowering. It was clear,
as well, that the women had no interest in my presence - this was not a show
for me, and if they glanced at me from time to time, then they paid as much
attention to the bed, and to the carpet. I was an object, and I was being
ignored. They had eyes only for each other.

Nexy Lucy oiled Kate's magnificent stomach, her thin fingers exploring the
gullies between the muscles. Kate repeatedly tensed and flexed her abs,
eliciting gasps of pleasure and arousal from Lucy, and then brought the
shuddering younger girl to a peak of ecstasy by pulling in her abs to form the
tightest vacuum pose I have ever witnessed. The thought flickered across my
mind that Kate needed no abdominal training of the sort I had earlier
recommended - she was already beyond what I considered perfect.

Kate held the vacuum pose for well over a minute, glorying in the motion of
Lucy's fingers as they explored her utterly lean abs and lats, and dappled
across her exposed rib-cage, before plummeting into the incredible well that
was Kate's iron hard, flat stomach. Then Kate, still holding the vacuum god
knows how, put her hands behind her head, and flexed her sucked in abs, which
stood up a good two inches from the well between her hip-bones and her ribs in
a perfect, flawless yogic Nauli pose, surmounted by a single vein that crossed
her awesome, fat-free abs. Lucy went wild, her hands pushing and thrusting at
the magnificent ridge of muscle, and she screamed "I need that muscle on my
clit, and I need it now."

Kate lay down on the bed, grabbing Lucy's slender muscled butt in both hands,
and lifted the lithe woman astride her abs as if she were no heavier than a
cushion. Lucy moaned with pleasure, thrusting her groin into Kate's abs. Kate
once more assumed the vacuum pose, and from the angle I was at, I could see
just how astoundingly thin her midriff had become. Her muscular waist was at a
guess 28" round, but she was sucking down to close to 22" or maybe 20". Front
to back, she was no thicker than a few inches in this pose. She began flexing
and crunching her abs into Nauli, again and again, hard on Lucy's clitoris.
Lucy howled and screamed in ecstasy, the thin sinews of her fragile body
rippling across her in spasm as the awesome muscular power that Kate was
displaying transmitted itself into wave after wave of orgasmic delight.

I mirrored Lucy's arousal with my own - I could not bear that I was not able
to touch this perfect woman, and my penis pulsed and bucked in sympathy with
Lucy's gyrations. As Kate crunched and crunched again, Lucy fell forward,
grabbing Kate's biceps with her desperate fingers. Kate took another cue from
this, and began flexing her arms in time with her slow, relentless crunches.
Her arms were rigid and massive with power. Each time she flexed, Lucy's
slender fingers were forced to release their grip and extend until they were
straight and resting on the peaks of Kate's huge, vascular biceps. Each time
Kate relaxed, Lucy's fingertips closed round the shrinking muscle mass and
Lucy begged for more. She was shrieking "Goddess" to Kate now, over and over,
and I, with not a touch bestowed on my body, found myself ejaculating
uncontrollably, great thick ropes of sperm flying across my chest and face as
I lay immobile, this ecstatic vision driving me wild with lust and making me
forget (or perhaps, I thought, accept) my earlier maltreatment.

As Kate brought Lucy quite shockingly to a series of orgasms like chain
lightning, by the simple expedient of thrusting her pumped and veiny bicep
under Lucy's groin, and flexing to the max six times, the goddess reached
under the pillows, bringing out a complicated and intriguing dildo. It had two
penises, in a V-shape, and a central spherical box with a sunken on switch.
Kate swiftly strapped this on, inserting the longer, ten-inch dildo into her
vagina, and then making it fast around her waist. She shuddered with pleasure
as the machine's vibrations coursed through her body.

Next, she simply picked up Lucy where she lay, writhing, and penetrated her
with the eight inch dildo, holding the skinny woman in the air, one hand under
her butt and the other on her back, like a rag doll. Kate gloried in her
power, shaking her head back and pulling her hair free of its bun, and
occasionally changing hands to stop from getting tired. Her arms became
incredibly pumped, the huge vascularity of her forearms, which initially
rivalled mine, now vastly beyond anything I could imagine ever achieving. It
was if the veins conveyed power to her muscles, like a massive strength
distribution network.

Lucy was fugueing in orgasm after orgasm, her eyes rolled back in her head,
her breathing ragged - she was barely conscious, such was the power of the
pleasure that was overtaking her. Kate's arousal seemed to stem as much from
awareness of her own physical prowess as from the stimuli she was receiving,
especially as now Lucy's arms hung limp by her side, occasionally rising only
to hold her head as she screamed. I was again becoming aroused at this point,
and I marvelled not just at the strength, but also the endurance of this
woman, who had now been holding Lucy up for the best part of fifteen minutes
minutes using just her arm strength. I longed, if not to reach out and touch
Kate, to at least be able to caress my penis. My balls pumped more arousal
round my veins than I have ever felt, and I repeatedly reached out towards
Kate.

Lucy eventually passed out completely, which brought Kate herself to a
staggering, shuddering orgasm, the vast muscles of her back rippling and
playing under her tissue paper skin as she sobbed and panted with pleasure.
She tore off the dildo, still bucking with orgasm, and moved to stand in front
of a full length mirror, where she struck a most muscular pose, and climaxed
yet again in autoerotic triumph.

She then turned towards me, an evil smile playing on her face. She came and
stood close to me, so I could again smell her sweat, and the delicious tang of
hers and Lucy's sex. She said nothing. She reached out, and pushed a
steel-hard finger into my bicep. Then she looked at my eyes, glanced at her
own bicep, and flexed. The peak burst up, veiny and perfect. She brought it
within an inch of my fingers. I reached out and touched marble. I have never
felt harder muscles. She did the same with her abs. They were like mahogany
under her skin. I have hard abs. They are nothing compared to hers, really
nothing. She smiled, presenting her awesome, pumped up forearms to my face,
waving her fingers and forcing the muscles to dance and the veins to writhe.
They were close enough to kiss, and so I tried, forgetting my gag. She tutted,
and then, as if noticing my great, pulsing erection for the first time, began
to walk her fingers very slowly, down my chest, gently over my bandaged ribs,
onto my abs, and towards my penis.

I erupted just before she got within an inch, such was my incredible arousal,
gushing sperm all over her sinuous, godlike arm. At once, she tore off my gag,
and presented the sullied arm to my mouth, and I knew as clear as anything
that, not only must I taste my own sperm, but I would also get to place my
lips on Kate's perfect flesh. I drank greedily and happily, and thus ended my
first day as a slave to Kate and Lucy.