The Stallion – Workout Part 4 - Seduction of Tamsin

[ZeeChromosome]

As promised. This is actually a pretty short chapter, but it comes to a natural stopping point. So I thought I would post it. Merry Christmas!

As always, thanks to Carl Bradford and Mr. Smith for editing and advice. Additional thanks to Joe for the usual.

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The Stallion – Workout Part 4 - Seduction of Tamsin
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On Thursday, Gwen finished work early and decided to pop in at the Club on the way home and take in an extra yoga class. She had started the week with three debt portfolios to close on and had already finished two of them. She was meeting with her third target on Friday morning, so she had time.

In the lobby, she noticed that Tamsin was just packing up her bag as a different gym bunny took her seat. That concerned Gwen because she knew that Tamsin was a full-time college student who only worked part-time three days a week. If Tamsin was here at this hour, it meant that she had probably been pressured to cut class to work an extra shift. One of the side effects of the reinstitution of slavery is that society’s attitudes toward gender had shifted heavily in the direction of male domination and female submission. Although Gwen herself was boldly pursuing a professional career and financial independence, she also knew that it would not have been possible without the protection of her father’s power and approval. Most girls weren’t so lucky, and many of them ended up in collars. Gwen had personally collared one of them this morning.

Tamsin smiled brightly as she noticed Gwen approaching with Hank. "Oh, hi Miss Bellefleur, you're not usually here in the afternoon."

Gwen smiled in response. She really liked this girl. When she had first brought Hank to the fitness club on Monday, she had been a bit put out by the younger girl’s obvious attraction to him. But after her encounter with Madeline, she had gained perspective on the situation and was better able to gauge whether a lustful woman was a true threat to Hank. Gwen of course had no fear that Hank’s heart could be stolen from her, she feared that he could be physically taken from her.

Gwen replied cheerfully, "I know, finished work early today. Thought I would pop in for a yoga class. Are you just getting off work?"

"Yes, thank you, I worked a couple of extra hours today, I really need the money."

Gwen’s ears perked up at that. As a professional debt slaver, she was always interested when she heard of an attractive young woman experiencing financial difficulties. And Tamsin was objectively attractive. The afternoon sunshine streamed through the arched lobby windows behind her and illuminated the reddish highlights of her lustrous auburn hair. She had a bright and cheerful personality and exuded friendliness. Her gym-honed hourglass shape was displayed by her skintight workout gear... with her impressive bust showcased by her keyhole-cut halter top. Tamsin would fetch top dollar at auction.

One of the things that Gwen had noticed about herself since she started working at Bellefleur Holdings was that she had begun to subconsciously evaluate other women based on their potential market value, rather than their value as human beings. She sometimes needed to remind herself that this was a person with hopes and dreams of her own and that she deserved more from life than a cold and impersonal trip to the auction block. On the other hand, some people DID deserve that trip to the auction block and this morning’s enslavement had been one of them. Some days the ethics of her chosen profession troubled her, but not this day.

She told Tamsin empathetically, “You must be exhausted. I was hoping to find someone to watch Hank for me while I...”

Tamsin immediately interjected, "I'll do it!"

Gwen frowned at her. The University had a mostly four-day week, which packed the week’s classes into Monday through Thursday. If Tamsin was here at this hour, then she was most likely cutting class, and Gwen didn’t like that one bit. Cutting classes was unacceptable to a Bellefleur and Gwen really wanted to like this girl. "I don't want to impose..." she began.

Tamsin eagerly interjected again, "It's fine, I'll just take him over to the weight room and have him do a few reps. Don't worry, I won't let anyone (but me) touch him. He'll be safe in my hands!"

Still frowning, Gwen nodded thoughtfully. “All right then,” she agreed, looking over at the replacement desk clerk, who she did not know. Gwen was rarely here at this hour. The replacement gym bunny was a startlingly-attractive and petite South Asian girl whose nametag informed Gwen that her name was “Poonam”. Gwen reflexively cast her slaver’s eye up and down the girl’s spandex-clad figure and assigned a dollar value to her. South Asians were notoriously difficult to value because so much depended on caste and family connections. This girl was pretty enough that that shouldn’t matter. But she also had fairly dark skin, which meant that South Asian buyers would be more reluctant to spend the additional dollars that her appearance should have commanded otherwise. But others would. Gwen would have to follow up on this one. Maybe this was an opportunity.

Since Tamsin was already in front of the reception desk, Poonam placed three tags and a pistol-shaped electronic device on the counter. Tamsin picked up the device, pointed it at Hanks’s collar and pulled the trigger. It booped. Gwen had no idea what the boring official name for the device was, she just called it “the booper”. It registered Hank’s RFID chip with the club’s AI and restricted him to the club’s premises.

Then Tamsin picked up the yellow tag and began to affix it to Hank’s collar. The fitness club gave slave owners three different types of tags for their slaves. The white tag was the “free use” tag, which meant that the slave owner had no concerns whether their slave was sexually used during their time at the club as long as they were freshly washed and fully-exercised when they were picked up. The yellow tag was the most common, it meant that casual groping was allowed. The red tag, on the other hand, was the “hands off” tag and it meant just that – no touching. It was normally used by possessive men who didn’t want other people touching their property.

On the drive to the club, Gwen had mulled over which tag would be appropriate for today’s session. Because she had planned for him to lift weights today, and because he would be doing so under someone else’s supervision, she had been leaning toward issuing a red tag. Normally she used a yellow tag for him. On the other hand, if Tamsin was going to be supervising him personally… a yellow tag was fine. She had a good feeling about this girl.

She looked up at the clock. The yoga class should take about an hour. “Tamsin? Can you follow me to my locker? I need to get changed.”

She then handed her leash to the other girl and headed to the women’s locker room without looking back. In order for her to keep Hank - the love of her life - safe, she needed to appear indifferent to his well-being while in public. It was an inevitable aspect of the etiquette of modern slavery. No freewoman of the slave-owning class should ever appear to be in love with a male slave. It just wasn’t done, it just wasn’t possible. Gwen had to hide her love and passion for this man from every potential onlooker. No better way to do that than to casually hand her leash to another woman and walk away.

Tamsin, on her part, was startled by this and looked down at the leash in her hands, then at Gwen’s departing back, then up at the physically imposing slaveboy looming over her. He was easily twice her weight. There was no way she could physically force him to do anything at all. But simply by holding his leash, she knew she was in charge and he would theoretically have to obey her, so she headed off in the direction of Miss Gwen and was relieved when he followed along amiably with no resistance. She had to admit to herself that it felt amazing to be leading such a hunky guy around on a leash and she turned sparkling eyes back at her friend Poonam to see if she was taking it in. She was. Poonam had her camera out and was taking a picture. That was definitely going on her social media feed.

In the locker room, Hank put Gwen’s bags down and she ordered him to strip. Tamsin, who was still holding the leash, looked at her in surprise. Logically, she knew that they were going to the locker room. Logically she knew that Hank needed to change out of his suit… logically. Hank shrugged out of his jacket, hung it up, and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Umm, Miss Bellefleur?” Tamsin began.

“Hmm?”

“Umm, do you want me to wait outside while you, umm…”

“No, that’s fine honey. One of the most important things about slave-handling is to ensure that absolutely everyone in sight knows that this particular slave is under your control at all times. He can change while you hold his leash. Take it off before you put him on the weight benches, though, otherwise it’s a safety hazard.”

Tamsin nodded at this. Not that she believed it for a minute. Hank was now taking off his shirt and exposing acres of smooth skin and muscle. Although his entire rippling torso was devoid of body hair, it wasn’t a bodybuilder’s torso covered in bulky, showy muscles. These were the lean muscles of a professional athlete. And she was, in a way, trapped by the length of the leash. She had to stand right next to him while he stripped naked, so that she could “control” him. A familiar feeling of warmth began climbing up her abdomen from some unmentionable place below her pierced belly button. Without consciously thinking about it, she began to adjust the waist band of her workout tights, incidentally tightening and smoothing it over her blushing mons and rapidly-swelling labia.

When he had stripped down to his underwear, he bent over and reached for his tights. Tamsin was standing beside and slightly behind him at this point and watched in fascination at the effect that this act had on the most incredible pair of perfectly-formed and trained glutes that she had ever seen. The only thing marring their perfection was a pair of mysterious brands, one on each cheek, clearly visible on either side of the T-back thong that he was wearing.

“Hank…” Gwen said, “Take the underwear off, I don’t want you getting it all sweaty. The tights provide plenty of support.”

Bent over as he was, Hank’s face was just a few inches from his Mistress. He looked her in the eye and crooked a little smile at the corner of his mouth as he intuited her needs. She wanted to show him off. “Yes, Mistress,” he said as he pulled down his underwear. He then stood and stretched, raising his hands high overhead. The poor gym bunny standing next to him stared with eyes like saucers as the entirely naked man displayed everything the God had given him. Well, the penisillin-enhanced genitals were the work of man, but everything else he had been born with.

He then proceeded to… slowly… get dressed in his workout gear. Adjusting his enlarged cock and balls in the specially-designed pouch of his tights seemed to take longer than normal for some reason.

Finally, he was done. Mistress Gwen had already gone upstairs. He turned to the woman holding his leash. “Are you ready to go, Miss Tamsin?” His rumbly baritone was smooth and polite, not subservient per se, but entirely correct. Tamsin didn’t know this, but he had been trained by the Bellefleur Manor majordomo on how to properly interact with free men and women. He had actually enjoyed the lessons quite a bit.

“Oh, uhh, yes, follow me,” Tamsin said hesitantly in what she hoped was a commanding tone as she turned about and led him in the direction of the exit.

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Afterward, they returned to the locker room. Gwen was already there, gathering her things for her shower. She was wearing only her tights as she rummaged through one of her bags. Tamsin, who had been working at the gym for just over a year now and who had recently earned her personal trainer’s license, automatically appraised the other woman’s fitness level. She was in impressive physical condition, especially for a woman who had given birth, she thought, noting a few stretch marks on her abdomen. She had thought that Miss Gwen wasn’t married… her eyes flickered to Gwen’s hands and saw no rings there. “Interesting,” she thought, “none of my business, but interesting.”

Gwen turned and stood facing at her, completely unashamed of her partial nudity. Tamsin noticed that Gwen’s prominent nipples had silver barbell piercings, which seemed to be slightly at odds with the buttoned-down businesswoman image that Gwen usually projected. “Like what you see?” she asked with a smile.

“Oh, yes, sorry for staring,” Tamsin gushed. “I think you’re in great shape! Not all of our clients are,” she finished in a much quieter tone. No need to cause inadvertent offense in case anyone was listening.

“Anyway,” she continued in a louder and more confident voice, "here he is, safe and sound!"

"Excellent, thanks for that, I knew I could count on you, what did you have him do?"

"Oh, we just did the standard 14-part fitness assessment. He's in good shape, his owner takes really good care of him."

Gwen nodded thoughtfully, "Good to hear. Do you think he's earned a reward?"

"Oh umm, sure, he's been a good boy. Would it be possible if...?"

Gwen glanced around the mostly-empty locker room and whispered conspirationally, "Tell you what, I don't think he's ever had the pleasure of titty-fucking a woman as busty as you are, do you think you could train him how to do that for me?"

Tamsin stared at Gwen in shock. It wasn’t that the other woman was offering her slaveboy for sex, it was the sheer casualness of it. Not to mention the fact that she had been thinking of just a handjob in the showers, which she knew was a fairly common way for women (and men) to reward an obedient slaveboy after a good workout.

Seeing Tamsin’s disconcerted reaction, Gwen abruptly changed course. “We can talk about that in a bit,” she turned her attention to Hank, “You! Strip, shower! I’ll send Tamsin in when she’s ready and she’ll tell you what to do.”

Hank had been standing by while the two free women negotiated his sexual services. He had been a slave for four years now, this was nothing new to him. Whatever happened next, it meant that Sillyhammer was going to have some fun. “Sir Sillyhammer” was Gwen’s pet nickname for his penis. She had named it that a couple of years ago while they were cuddling in post-coital bliss in one of the HH Ranch’s guest cottages. He had been lying on his back with Gwen snuggled up under his arm. She was casually flopping his penis back and forth, waiting for it to get hard again, when she said, “I dub thee… Sir Sillyhammer.” Unfortunately, Gwen’s cleverness had delighted her, and the name had stuck. Personally, he would have preferred “The Gwenhammer”, but he wasn’t going to tell Her that.

Gwen turned her attention back to the off-balance freewoman. “Tamsin, I see you’re a certified personal trainer.”

Now that was a question that Tamsin could answer with confidence. “Yes, I am!”

“Good,” Gwen replied, “bill me for two hours. Here is my card, I would like for you to call me this evening so that we can discuss doing more business together. Hank needs to lift weights to stay in shape and I don’t want him doing it here. I don’t feel like it’s safe. Answer me this question; during your supervision, did you feel at any time that you needed to intervene because you thought Hank might be threatened?”

Tamsin’s demeanor suddenly became much more serious. That actually had happened… twice. Another man had been displeased to see a slave using the machine he wanted and had started becoming a bit aggressive. She had instinctively responded by getting close to Hank and barking unnecessary orders at him so that the other man would see that a free person was in charge here, a free person was using this weight machine to exercise this slave. Both times, the men had backed off and waited their turn.

Tamsin looked into the older girl’s eyes and nodded gravely. She also realized that the two girls were now seated next to one another on the bench, holding hands like best-girlfriends conspiring together. Tamsin wasn’t sure how they had even gotten there, it just seemed to flow. For some reason, she felt very comfortable with Gwen and it gave her a warm feeling. She needed more close friends in her life. Poonam was a great roommate and coworker, but other than that, her social calendar was pretty empty. No… not “empty,” it was “small”. She just did not have time to fit in her classes and work schedule and then add a frivolous party-packed social life like many of her peers at the University.

“Right then, that’s what I thought,” Gwen responded in a very business-like tone. “It’s settled. You’ll call me tonight and we’ll make arrangements for you to be Hank’s trainer three nights a week at my house. Whatever your hourly rate is here at the club, I’ll pay it plus one hour because it’s an outcall and you need to be compensated for your driving time and so on. Deal?”

Tamsin felt a bit swept away by Gwen’s kindly authoritativeness. Of course she needed the money, of course she would help out, this was a huge deal to her. Gwen had no idea how much better it would make things for her. She would do whatever Gwen said. She nodded eagerly.

“Good,” Gwen whispered in her ear, “now strip, you have some titty-fucking to do!” She then slipped her fingers underneath Tamsin’s crop top and drew it up over her head. This move forced the two women’s bodies together and Tamsin was able to feel the other girl’s rigid pierced nipples pressing into her overheated flesh. But only for an instant. Without giving her time to react, Gwen knelt and stripped off her tights without even asking, exposing her blushing labia to the world. Well, maybe not the world, but the entire locker room… which seemed to be entirely deserted.

Gwen smiled at Tamsin, who was still surprised by her own sudden nudity. “Go show Hank a good time,” she said, “Good boys deserve rewards.”

Tamsin’s arousal returned full force. For over an hour she had directed Hank through his exercises and every move of his made her want him more. Since she had gotten her physical trainer’s certificate, she had had a few paying clients here at the club, but each one of them was the same – they thought that since they were paying her $25 an hour, that she should be grateful and suck their sweat-smelly dicks afterwards. When she refused, they had simply grabbed a random slave girl and had her do it. In the modern legal slavery world, women had very little sexual bargaining power, it all belonged to the men. If a free woman played hard-to-get, she could always be replaced with a slave who… had to obey.

But this was different. Tamsin found Hank desirable and she wanted to please him, she was just a bit hesitant to do so. She looked around the locker room bay and, seeing no one but Gwen who was smiling in encouragement, she slipped behind the curtain… and into his arms. “Whoa there, I gotcha,” he chuckled in her ear as his muscular arms wrapped around Tamsin, steadying her. “Here you go,” he said as he slipped around her so that she was facing the shower head, which he somehow simultaneously adjusted to her height. “Just put your hands on top of your head like you’re surrendering to the cops and I’ll do the rest. I bathe Gwen all the time.”

She did so and he began to soap and scrub her entire body, sensuously running his surprisingly-smooth calloused palms over her entire body. She had noticed the thick, hard callouses on his hands while she was supervising her workout, but was utterly unprepared for how they would feel caressing her body. The combination of hardened palms and soft touches drove her wild. It was as though she was under the power of her ultimate dream man – simultaneously hard-and-fierce and kind-and-gentle. She moaned wantonly as he gently caressed her concerns (and inhibitions) away.

He washed her thoroughly from her throat all the way down to between her toes. At no point in time did she feel as though he was treating it like a chore. Every touch told her that he was enjoying it as much as she was, and she wondered frantically if this was the kind of treatment that Gwen received every day? Where did men like this come from? Where could she get one of her own? He even washed between her toes, treating each foot as if it was in and of itself a precious treasure.

“Hmm,” she moaned deep in her throat as he pirouetted her like a dancer under the warm spray to rinse the soap off of her. She had had hour-long bubble baths that hadn’t left her feeling this refreshed and clean. He then reached behind her and unlatched a fold-down seat that she hadn’t realized was there and sat her on it.

“I believe,” he told her in his soft, rumbly voice, “that I was promised a titty-fuck.” His very large and solid erection, the one that had been brushing against her lightly while he was washing her, was now pointed directly at her chest.

She took his cock in hand and slowly began stroking it. It felt so soft and hard in her hand… and so big! “I suppose,” she said, smiling up at him coquettishly, “that we should get started on that. If you’re still interested, of course?” Without waiting for an answer, she began to lick the smooth hairless base of his shaft while softly manipulating his surprisingly-large testicles with her fingers. One of the things that most people don’t know about penisillin is that not only does it increase the size of the penis, it increases the size of the testicles as well. Tamsin had read about it in physiology class, but seeing it firsthand – in the palm of her hand – was very enlightening. She also hadn’t known just how arousing it could be to lick and suck them. But now she did, and it was divine. She felt a genuine debt of gratitude toward Gwen for sharing her slaveboy with her.

She then pressed his delicious cock into her cleavage. When she had invested in breast-enhancing mammacillin treatments, she was primarily interested in increasing her visual appeal in the hopes that it would increase her slave grade when she went in for regrading. An increase in sensual appeal hadn’t really occurred to her. Hank began slowly stoking it in and out of the valley of her breasts as she licked and sucked the head when it came close enough. Each time he withdrew from her suctioning mouth, there was an audible “pop!”

Then there wasn’t. Instead of suctioning the tip, her checks chipmunked as the first spurt of his orgasms surged into her mouth. Tamsin coughed and pulled her head back, allowing Hank to slowly pump the rest of his ejaculation onto underside of her throat as she coughed and sputtered.

“Oh my,” she giggled up at him as she slowly jacked the remainder of his orgasm out of his still-hard cock. “That was a big one, wasn’t it?”

Hank shrugged, “About average for a first shot.”

Tamsin’s eyes widened at that statement, “What does he mean by ‘first shot’?” she thought in alarm.

Shortly thereafter, Gwen was sitting on the bench in front of her locker drying off.

“Psst!”

She turned and saw Tamsin peeking out from behind the shower curtain. Ropes of semen clung to her chin and painted the swelling mounds of her breasts. She didn’t seem to notice. "Psst! Gwen! It's not going down!"

Gwen replied, "He's a stallion, he normally goes twice. He'll need to put it somewhere else; can you handle that for me?"

Tamsin stared at her, “Like, where?” Then her eyes started to bulge. Apparently, the problem of “where” had been resolved. "I’ll take care of it right away!" she whimpered as she closed the curtain.

Gwen started typing on her phone: "Daddy, I'd like to do a research project on a potential candidate for enslavement..." she began, then stopped. The other desk girl, Poonam, was also quite attractive. “Actually, two candidates. I’ll do a workup and present something for you to review tomorrow.”

Gwen finished her emails, heard wanton moaning, opened the curtain to the shower stall, and saw that Hank had Tamsin impaled from behind facing toward the now-withdrawn curtain. Tamsin’s O-face, dangling breasts and inner thighs were all dripping with semen and Hank was pushing her through yet another orgasm by rubbing her clit.

Gwen smiled in satisfaction at the horribly-embarrassed girl. “Take all the time you need, honey,” she said, “sometimes he needs an extra 30 minutes or so to finish up.”

It had been Gwen's plan to use Tamsin's attraction to Hank to reel her in.

The seduction has begun.

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End Part One of Seduction of Tamsin
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Again, sorry for the short chapter, it just felt like a natural break point. More to cum!

Zee

[ZeeChromosome]

Eroticstoryspinner just pointed out to me that there is no "Workout Part 3".

Sigh. He's right. Sigh.

I hate it when he's right. So yeah, I had that planned and plotted and then... Okay I screwed that up. I'll fix it.

I had intended for Workout 3 to be Hank's first day on the job at Bellefleur Financial. But then Tamsin's bigass titties distracted me. Sue me. I dare you.

Zee

[Carl Bradford]

Since the TV is running back-to-back renditions of the kid who wanted a BB gun for christmas, I guess we should recognize that, for you at least, large boobs on slave girls hold the same attractions and risks: "poke your eye out."
Carl

[ZeeChromosome]

Since the TV is running back-to-back renditions of the kid who wanted a BB gun for christmas, I guess we should recognize that, for you at least, large boobs on slave girls hold the same attractions and risks: "poke your eye out."
Carl

I'm willing to let her try. If she fails the first time, we'll just have to keep trying.