Stay With Me - Rachel X Amy (Part 2/3, 1.5K Words) NSFW

Part 2! Later than I'd hoped, but also a little longer than expected, too. Part 3 will be coming in future but will likely be shorter than these previous two. Without spoiling too much I'd like the final section to be more character/dialogue based.

As you're about to see, this is a lot more NSFW than anything I've worked on recently, and not something I currently plan on doing too much more. Still, everyone's feedback is important to me so let me know your thoughts!

Contents: NSFW, BDSM, toys, choking, impact play, muscle worship

  "Stay with me!" Amy snapped, but she didn't loosen her grip around Rachel's neck. Rachel was spread on her back, lost in the throes of pleasure with her muscular body bucking like a wild mare. There was a stack of plates covered by a soaking wet towel keeping her hips raised, and her ankles were cuffed to iron bolts on the floor, forcing her in a painful over split. Between those spread legs, a powerful vibrator wand thrummed against Rachel's most sensitive area, strapped to her inner thigh and piling more overload atop the egg vibrator inside her. Her eyes were rolling up to the back of her head. Straddling her, and just as naked, Amy pulled her free hand back and slapped it hard across the girls chest. "Hey! That's an order!" she barked, and Rachel spasmed so hard it almost threw her off.

 "Y-yes... M-mistress!" she gargled and Amy saw the dark brown of her eyes return. Every twitch disturbed the light weights attached to her nipple clamps, sending them tugging her painfully sensitive buds in all directions with a sharp spike of shock every step of the way. As a few more of Rachel's senses returned her smile widened, her musical moans grew louder, and she stared hungrily into Amy's eyes.

 Unyielding, Amy sneered back, "You think that look's gonna work on me?" she leaned forward and firmly groped Rachel's chest, feeling them push back against her as Rachel's hard pecs flexed. "Are you gonna cum without Mistress' permission? Well? Are you!?" she pressed her weight forward, holding herself over Rachel. Her perfect submissive squealed and her body tensed, with her eyes shut tight she shook her head in desperate denial. Unsatisfied with her answer, Amy squeezed her breasts hard. "Well!?"

 Rachel was hyperventilating, the ragged breaths punctuated by breathy, high pitched moans. Sweat dripped from her body as she was desperately overstimulated in every way. The poor girl was a pile of broken, spasming muscles. She had spent the day methodically, expertly, wilfully being broken down. Hours and hours of targeted, repeated muscle torture, working cyclically around every area of her body to stretch out her endurance to its absolute maximum. The pair had been training together for years now, and Amy had stayed attentive, she had studied closely, learned carefully. As Rachel improved her body, Amy improved her methods and grew her expertise. Now, Amy knew where and how to push during training to force the girl to reach new limits, where to ease off to avoid injury and draw out the session. All the ways to drive Rachel to the edge in both effort, pain and pleasure. Over years of practice, attention and communication, Amy had become a master of her girlfriends body. The flexing muscles, twitching limbs and tone of her gasps, grunts and screams were all signals she could read and respond to. She prided herself in learning to play the beautiful, muscular ex-gymnast like an instrument. Sometimes, all Rachel needed to be pushed past her limits was a gentle whisper in the ear, other times a full drill-sergeant style chewing out. More physically speaking, knowing the time for a soft pet or a swift slap was a skill that Amy knew as naturally as breathing. A touch here, a word there could keep the determined girl going for hours. Refining this knowledge was one of Amy's greatest pleasures, and by now it was instinct to her - which was fortunate, as Rachel's lower abs grinding between her legs left her without much higher brain function. Like playing an instrument, she received the sound she wanted. "N-n..noo... Mistress!!" Rachel wailed.

 "That's good... 'cause if you did, I'd have to punish you!" with the last two words of her reply, Amy slammed her knuckles into Rachel's arched stomach.

 Under most circumstances, Amy would struggle to make a dent in Rachel's abs - her own wrists were more likely to break first. Fortunately, the countless gruelling core exercises she had put her girlfriend through had softened her target nicely. When Amy slammed her small fist with a surprising amount of wiry strength it sunk deep into her navel, between the pumped, traumatized muscle bricks.

 Rachel groaned loudly, her body spasmed and she clawed at the floor over her head. Her back arched and she threw her shaking hands over her face with a cry of "O-oh f-fuck!!" - it didn't seem like she hated the sensation...

 "What's wrong, slave?" Amy barked. Rachel's raised hips meant that her back was arched, leaving her stomach extra vulnerable. As Amy taunted she threw her fist downward again. This time, she kept her fist against Rachel's stomach after the impact. She leaned forward to push her weight onto her knuckles and let them sink further down. They pushed firmly into the jagged ab muscles, sensually compressing the woman's midriff more deeply by each drawn out moment. As the pressure increased, so did the response. Rachel was whining and gasping. Her every breath was shaky. Amy gave an exaggerated tut, "Are these poor little abs too weak?"

 As Amy drew her fist back to strike again, Rachel let out a short, sharp scream. The Mistress didn't hesitate, but this time when she punched, her knuckles met a brick wall. The Mistress grinned, proud of herself, more proud of Rachel's titanic flex. "Hold." she ordered, so she could properly appreciate the canvas of hulking, shuddering abdominals laid out before her. Rachel replied with the best version of 'Yes Mistress' she could muster in her semi-delirious state. Her asymmetrical abs were bulging against the skin, thick but lean so that the jagged shapes dividing the rows looked like interlocking jigsaw pieces. In the woman's overworked and dehydrated state she was far more vascular than usual. Veins thin and thick snaked across her abs, small rivers spanning valleys that were flooded with sweat.

 "What a naughty slave... you've been holding out on me?" Amy sneered. A straight up lie. Rachel had been giving a hundred percent all day, start to finish. Just as she did every day. Any meagre resistance she could offer up now were the death rattles of her entirely spent muscles. It wouldn't stop Amy from teasing. "Let's see how much you have left. Hands behind your head." she spoke to her like a sadistic school teacher and Rachel was lapping it up. The slave's hips were still twitching as she obeyed with the humming vibrator a backdrop to Amy - to Rachel, it was a constant, screaming wedge in her sanity as she held on for dear life. Amy leaned more deeply over her slave, feeling the heat rising from her body, and once more pinned her down neck. Rachel's big, dark eyes were wide and hungry. She knew the order that was coming. "Crunch!"

 The slave obeyed, flexing the hopeless remaining shreds of ab muscle with all her might. Amy's hand barely moved. There was no strength left. All that was left for Rachel was to completely burn out the final remnants of her energy. Amy could never fully prepare for the sight of her girlfriend's abs when she got like this. Her glistening brown skin had a couple of reddening marks from punches, and her steely plates of muscle were thrust upward, swollen and solid. Amy could watch fresh droplets of sweat trickling down her, disturbed with every harsh breath. The seconds ticked by, and Rachel continued her hopeless effort. Soon she was grunting louder, gasping, choked the cries that were all the noise she could muster. Amy was pushing the bounds of what was reasonable and safe, and she knew it. For a few moments, she considered easing up. Then she tightened her grip. "I said crunch those abs for your Mistress!" Another, weaker spasm erupted from Rachel in an attempt to obey - somehow she was still in there, still willing herself on with a determination Amy couldn't imagine. The ex-gymnast was under a stress that left her singularly focused on holding her flex from one second to the next. Ten seconds was torture, thirty was brutal. The three minutes the Mistress kept her slave working was insanity. Feeling her own body heat up and unable to bare it any longer, Amy worked herself to the edge, undulating to grind her hips against the wet skin of her tormented slave. Before long she fell onto her, their naked bodies pressed together and the sensation too much for them both. Amy barely had the sense of mind to gasp her permission into Rachel's ear, allowing her slave a desperate release.

After, Amy stumbled sideways off Rachel and onto the wet floor, her head spinning. Her body was exhausted and the thought made her laugh, having been through a fraction of a percent of the punishment her girlfriend had endured. At least, unlike Rachel, she had managed to avoid passing out. The obedient slave was out like a light, soft whimpers following each heavy breath, and didn't give much of a response as Amy unshackled her and pulled her into her lap. Of course she would recover quickly, beast that she was. Amy held her head and spun her fingers gently in her soaking hair as she smiled down and watched her eyes flutter. A hot bath with a massage was in order, followed by an absurdly large meal.