Personal Trainer for the Rich and Famous
Names Ted. I'm a professional health consultant. Fancy way of saying, rich people pay me to keep them accountable. That's not to say that every single one of my contractees are weak willed. Just most of 'em.
But anyway, I'm a bit of a straight shooter and, if I'm being honest with myself, not that great of a story teller. So let me get right to the reason I'm writing this tell-all that will never see the light of day. I got to get it off my chest, so to speak, and for now, this here is the best I can do.
To give a little context for what I'm about to say, let me just explain that as a six and half foot tall roo who's at the peak of fitness, it's a pretty regular occurrence that clients throw themselves at me. Sexually speaking. Sometimes I pass, out of professionalism. Sometimes I take them up on their offer. Depends on my mood, you know?
My point is, out of the blue sexual situations don't typically throw me off my stride. But this...? Jeez. This is on a whole other level.
The client was late, which was not typical of him. But he'd previously given me the door code to his mansion of a house, so I let myself in. And when I say mansion, I mean it. Three floors. Endless rooms. Flawlessly decorated. The works. Beyond impressive. Goes without saying, this particular horse is very rich and very famous. Oh yeah, forgive me if I don't use his real name but for purposes of this story let's call him... hmm... Caesar. That's as good as any other made up name, right?
So I call out once I'm in the main entryway. No answer. Soon I'm wandering around some. Taking in the sights. Usually Caesar and I are straight down to business, doing a set of stretches and then hitting the free weights. After six months of working with the guy, this is my first real chance to get the tour, so I take advantage of it.
Anyway, gonna skip ahead here a bit. Told ya, I suck at telling stories. So yadda, yadda, yadda, I find this non-descript door. It's open just a crack. Barely any gap at all between the door and the frame. On a whim I go inside. Down a hallway. Through a couple more doors. Now I'm walking down some stairs.
It doesn't occur to me that there's anything odd, because this is just how wealthy people do, yeah? I've been to plenty of their houses. Something about money just makes people go a little off in the head. Eccentric is the polite word. At this point not a single alarm bell was ringing in my head.
Well that all changed when I went through that last door. The one that was all the way down the dimly lit corridor. The one with the iron door knob.
Fuck. How should I even go about trying to describe this? Whatever, I'll just do my best.
There's this guy in there, see? More like a boy, really. Couldn't have been but nineteen or twenty. Anyway, there's this black furred wolverine. About five and half feet tall. Naked. Legs spread wide. Ankles shackled to the ground. Arms pulled up, hands together, shackled to a taut chain coming down from the ceiling.
He hadn't noticed me yet. The kid's facing away from the doorway. Which lets me get a decent look at his gaping, recently plowed asshole. It's doing its best to pull itself back together, but it's plain to see that the wolverine's just been plowed long and hard. Globs of cum are dripping from his soggy back door and down his leg, making a mess on the floor.
Seemed like he was still breathing a bit heavy. Tired. Letting the ceiling chain carry some of his weight. I must have missed the action by minutes if not mere seconds. Any sooner and I'd of walked in on someone pounding him silly. Probably a certain famous horse. Caesar himself.
If I were a smarter man, I'd of just turned around and walked away without saying a word. But us trainers... Well, we have a bit of a harsh reputation for being meat heads. And that day I owned up to that rep.
I opened my stupid trap and said, "Holy shit! Sorry bro, didn't know this room was occupied!"
He turned his head. Eyes wide he stared at me. I stared back. Then the damn broke. He started screaming at me.
At first I couldn't even make out individual words. He wasn't terribly coherent and I was paying more attention to what I was seeing than what I was hearing. But he kept at it and eventually began making more sense and less noise.
This isn't quite right, but I'll do my best at remembering what he had to say. More or less.
The nude, bound youngin' fought against his chains and yelled, "You got to get me out of here! Hurry, for fuck's sake! He's gonna be back any second! You see a key anywhere?! Find the key! Please! Hurry man, there's no time!"
I did my best to stay calm and give some kind of response, but I'm sure I must have looked and sounded incompetent. I had no idea what to think. Like I said before, I've been involved in kinky situations before, but this was on a whole different level.
Trying to get a grasp on the situation, I talked over him and explained, "Whoa, man. I'm just the physical trainer. I don't get involved in stuff like this. If you want, I can call the cops or something. But other than that, it's not my business."
At the time, I thought this sounded like a completely reasonable thing to say. Well, he disagreed. After screaming at me some more, incoherently, I managed to make out, "Are you fucking shitting me! Calling the cops won't do shit! Caesar's best friends with the police chief! He's here every other week! Get me down and I stand a decent chance of getting out of the city before any of his men spot me. Please, I'm begging you! I can't do it without you!"
Not knowing what else to do I look around the room for a minute or so, pointedly ignoring the aching hard cock jutting out from his groin. All the while, trying to piece things together. I tried to come up with a reasonable explanation for all of this, but nothing came to mind.
Suddenly I'm forced to consider the horse in a whole new light. The country and the world at large knew him as the fun loving, witty action hero. Everyone loves him. But here in this basement room, I'm getting a to see this whole other side to him. Whoa.
I come back around in front of the kid. Then shrug and give him the bad news.
"No key, bro. Looks like you're stuck here till he comes back. Sorry for having ... umm... interrupted y'all's scene, I guess."
This drives him up the wall. Figuratively speaking. He's practically cursing me out at this point.
"You think this looks like a fucking scene? Get me down, moron!"
He looked panicked. Not knowing what else to do, I made my way around him while apologizing, heading back towards the door. Noticing that I was making my exit, he started babbling at me, all pleading and apologies.
"Don't leave, please! At least try and yank the goddamn chains out of the wall! Wait, dude! This may be my only chance!"
With nothing more to say, I headed out the door, closing it firmly behind me as I went. The last thing I heard as I ran back the way I came was a now faint voice calling down the hall.
"No! Please, come back! Please! Don't be like that! Dude! ...Hello?!"
I turned a deaf ear to his pleas, already having made my own escape from that room. And that's when I noticed it. A horse-shaped shadow on the far wall. My heart turned into a fist-sized chunk of ice. He was coming this way.
Looking around in desperation, I immediately surmised that this hall was the only path out. Walking a few awkward steps backwards, I turned myself around and hurried back the way I came.
Back into the room.
The wolverine greeted me excited. And loudly. Poor fella must have hoped I had a chance of heart. I shushed him and said, "Quiet! He's heading this way. I gotta find some place to hide. Act normal!"
As I scanned the room for some form of makeshift cover, the young man muttered darkly under his breath, "Oh, yeah, sure, I'll act real casual like while he has another go at my ass. No prob."
I didn't bother shushing him again. Instead I moved behind a long bookshelf-like rack of sex toys. It was by no means a fantastic place to hide, but it was the best I could do with so little time to improvise. I figured it would at least shield me from sight as long as Caesar stayed near the middle of the room where the boy stood locked in place, legs spread and bound.
It also meant that I couldn't see very well myself. I tried to tell myself this was a good thing as the movie star entered the room. If I couldn't see him, he shouldn't be able to see me. I held myself still and slowed my breathing as much as possible. Then I waited and listened.
Didn't have to listen to hard. Caesar voice filled the room. Guess he didn't see any need to keep his voice down, this being his own house and all.
"Right where I left you, aye boy? And looky here, still hard as a rock!"
It didn't sound like a question to me, but the wolverine answered anyway.
"Yes, sir."
He sounded defeated, but oddly respectfully.
"Well, I know you'd just love for me to pump another load under your tail, but your sloppy ass is just gonna have to wait. Your stud of a master is still getting his second wind. But that's okay... just gives us more time to focus on you. So... has my little filly made up his mind? What's it going to be."
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I wasn't exactly about to speak up and ask for clarification. My only hope is that he'd get bored and go. Or maybe decide he wanted a change of scenery and bring the boy upstairs with him.
The youth's answer, when it eventually came, was spoke so softly I could barely make it out.
"...Please, sir, can't I stay here? Mister Daniel is too rough... and Mister Paul never lets me cum!"
(Again, I've changed the names to protect the not so innocent.)
"Not an option, slave boy. I'm going to be off for a couple months or so filming my new movie and I'm going to need to put you somewhere. You should be counting your lucky stars I'm even letting you make the final call. So, which do you care about more? Your ass or your balls?"
Apparently my stealthily listening in on their intensely private conversation didn't embarrass the teenager so much that he was unwilling to beg.
"Sir, please! I want to stay here! I'll be good, I promise!"
Since I couldn't see his face, I couldn't tell whether or not Caesar was seriously considering the lad's request. But he did go silent for a long moment.
At last he spoke up saying, "Okay boy. You convinced me. You can stay here. But I'm having both Daniel and Paul stay over. Daniel will keep your ass nice and red and Paul will keep your balls full and pent up."
"Master, no! Please! I pick Daniel! Sir, I want to stay at Mister Daniel's!"
"Too late, silly filly. When your Master orders you to pick between two choices, making no choice isn't an option. Maybe two months of chastity will drive that lesson home, hmm? We both know firm Paul is on his opinion about how often slutty slave boys should be allowed to squirt. But don't worry, Daniel will help you keep your mind off your needy stalk."
The black furred youth whimpered for a few seconds, then begged, "But... you can ask Mister Paul and Mister Daniel to be nicer... maybe? Master?"
I heard a loud slap ring out through the room. The sound of flesh striking flesh, followed by a yelp.
"Who are you to insult my friends, slave? I thought you'd of learned by now that this free-boy attitude of yours has no place here. If Paul wants your boyhood needy and dripping for weeks on end, that's his business, not yours. Likewise, Daniel has my complete support in trying to whip and spank out some of some of your stubbornness. Furthermore, you've just convinced me that Garrett should be extended an offer to babysit you as well. Now that I think about it, this is a great chance for you to thank the police chief... to pay him back for introducing you to this life of luxury."
"Master, please no--mmmhhmm!"
I couldn't tell what was going on at first, but it soon occurred to me that the wolverine had most likely been gagged. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise though, because that kid's mouth seemed to only be digging him deeper.
The movie star wasn't finished talking yet and cocked my head to listen in.
"Lucky boy... you're gonna have three real men here around the clock to keep you on the straight and narrow. Garrett will probably even want to take some time off work so he can make sure you get the attention you deserve. But right now, it's your Master who needs a bit of attention..."
After that, it didn't take a great deal of imagination on my part to discern the sounds I heard next. Wet noises. Flesh sliding into flesh. Grunts. Muffled moans.
While I've never seen Caesar in the nude myself, for a while there were rumors of a leaked nude stills. If you believe what you hear, the actor is a stallion in every sense of the world. And the noises the wolverine was making, I had no trouble believing. The smaller male's gagged groans made it sound as if the movie star was stretching him to his limits.
I felt myself getting turned on despite myself. Hey, what do you want. It's a guy thing, there's no helping it. But yeah, so this went on for a while. Sweaty, intense, non-consensual fucking. That teenager's soggy hole was getting put through its paces.
It got hard to make out each individual thrust when Caesar put on some background music. The room must have been wired for sound, because it welled up from all around me as Rhythm of the Night began to play ( https://youtu.be/yrHRWgq2-n0 ). There's no accounting for taste, but it ended up being good news for me. I was finally able to relax my tense muscles, knowing that any shuffling noises would be easily masked by the music.
Shifting carefully, I got my first look at the pair in action once I located a half-decent peep hole in the shelf.
Caesar, not wearing a stitch of clothing, looked more like a porn star than an action movie star as he fucked the daylight out his bound lover. If you could call him that. The wolverine, on the other hand, had little choice but to hold on for dear life as his hips were rammed forward time and time again. Hard to say if he was enjoying himself any, but if you judged solely based on his bouncing erection, it wasn't all bad for the lad.
The brown horse just ignored the boy's rigid pole, opting rather to cupping the wolverine's ass cheeks and tweak his pert nipples. For a few brief seconds he indulged himself with a quick jostling of the youth's low slung sack, weighing the orbs in hand and cupping them roughly. But this short lived molestation was all there was in way of reciprocation. It was clear that the only focus for this pairing would be Caesar's pleasure.
The music played on as the couple 'danced'. At least, that's the best way I can describe it. They moved back and forth, back and forth. Sometimes slow. Sometimes fast. But they seemed to sway together as the wolverine's rear was forced to accommodate what I could now see was an unreasonably hefty horse cock.
I resisted the ludicrous urge to indulge in a bit of self-pleasure myself so my own length and needs went ignored, much like the young man's.
But it was at this point in the story that I did the ballsiest stunt of my entire life.
I pulled out my phone, placed its embedded camera in front of the peep hole I'd discovered, and pressed record. I don't know what possessed me to do something so risky... so morally grey. But I did and that's what happened.
My modern day smartphone captured everything. The oddly happy music. The rape. Both men's expressions and sexual tackle. And since Caesar wasn't in any hurry for the fun to end, I got over twenty five minutes of him rearranging that boy's insides as the music playlist went from song to song.
The cumshot, when it came, wasn't spectacular to watch as you couldn't see it. But the phone video still got a big finale when Caesar, multimillionaire movie star extraordinaire, allowed himself to slip out of the wolverine's cheeks and then held his cupped hand under the boy's tired, loose hole.
Despite not having touched myself, I nearly jizzed my pants when the stud placed ungagged the boy, then held his cum filled palm in front of the handsome boy's muzzle, forcing the slave to use broad tongue to slowly lick his Master's hand clean. The horse's load was copious, so this deviant sex act took some doing to accomplish.
Unfortunately for the unlucky lad, he was promptly regagged as soon as the deed was done. Guess Caesar wasn't in the mood to put up with any further potential begging.
Shutting off the music, Caesar fetched a vibrating egg from the shelf nearest him. Turning it on before popping the toy into his slave's abused sphincter, the actor ran the tip of a single finger up the bottom of the youth's shaft, base to cock head.
"I'll be back to fetch you in a couple hours. I recommend you think carefully about complaining anymore tonight. You're not likely to earn yourself many chances for release with Paul staying over, so if you were smart you'd do your best to convince me to let you empty your slave balls before I'm off on my trip. I leave tomorrow, so you have less than twenty four hours to change my mind. Because right now I'm inclined to hand you over to Paul with four days of chastity already under your belt."
No wonder the boy's member was bouncing around as though it were possess. Back when I was his age, I couldn't stand to go a single day without beating my meat. Four would have been outright unbearable.
But something he said jogged my memory... trip... his trip. His trip! Fuck me! During our last workout he'd told that he was heading off for a shoot. And that we'd resume his sessions after he got back. My stomach flipped in my stomach. I wasn't supposed to be here. I wasn't supposed to see any of this. I was trespassing. I'd secretly spied one of the wealthiest, most influential people alive.
And while doing so, I'd gathered video evidence of a beloved, household name non-consensually fucking his boy-toy sex slave. This was huge. What I had on my phone was enough to set myself up for life, if I talked to the right people. Or end up very, very dead. Or worse.
Caesar packed people into the theaters. Guys brought their dates. Moms brought their kids. Kids brought their friends. Everyone bought popcorn and drinks and candy. Lots of money changing hands. People getting rich. Or richer, as the case may be.
And here I knelt with the sole copy of my filming debut: Caesar the Stallion, deep dicking his chastised live-in slave.
I began to sweat bullets. Questioning all of my life choices that led me to this moment. But there was no going back. Even if I deleted the video right then and there, if Caesar ever found about this, that act of benevolence wouldn't help me. Truthfully, I already knew then that the existence of amateurly shot movie might be the only thing that would save my skin.
I can't imagine Caesar just trusting me not to ruin his perfect life. He'd take action. I mean, I would if I were him. But if he knew that this video would go out to every major blog the moment something happened to me. Just maybe...
Anyway, I'd thoroughly freaked myself out at this point. On the one hand, what I'd just witnessed was all kinds of hot. But on the other, holy shit, my client keeps a young boy trapped in his basement!
As I struggled to keep myself together, the equine left the room, leaving me and the boy alone. Of course, you could argue that the wolverine still had the vibrating egg against his prostate to keep him company. He panted and thrust his hips wantonly into the open air, balls aching with unspent seed.
I halted the phone recording and put the device into my pocket before stepping out.
The boy saw me and immediately tried to grab my attention, struggling against the chains and shackles and trying to speak to me through his gag. His garbled words were impossible to make up.
I hate to say it, but I didn't have any intention of ungagging him. All he'd do was beg and plead for me to do something I couldn't. To get him the hell out of here.
As I approached him, I got another good look at his rear. If his hole was a soggy mess before, now it was a flooded disaster zone. Thick rivulets of horse seed were still making their way out before running down the inside of his legs, onto the floor.
He continued to mumble at me as loud as he could.
I don't really have a good excuse for what I did next. But I'll admit to it here anyway, since no one will ever read this. Standing in front of him I unzipped my pants, allowing my own impressive roo-hood to spring forth. I'm certainly no stallion, but on a good day I can give some of the smaller equines a run for their money.
The wolverine's eyes went wide as they moved down my frame until they fell on my crotch. For the duration of a held breath he was silent and still as he took the sight of my veined meat in. Then an instant later he redoubled his efforts, shouting at me while shaking his head 'no' as emphatically as he could.
I didn't speak a word. I simply walked past his line of sight, turned myself around so that I stood behind him, pulled out the intensely vibrating egg, and pressed myself into the warm hot mess that was his hole. What it lost in elasticity it more than made up for in kink factor. My junk was drenched in Caesar's fresh, virile horse cum. And I was fucking his personal property. A slave who didn't have any power or say in his life anymore. Who didn't even get a vote on subjects like, whether or not he got to nut.
Didn't get a vote about when he got plowed either, apparently. He struggled half-heartedly at his bindings, but deep down I think he knew he was gonna get bred by his would-be kangaroo savior. Feeling a bit bad for the unlucky kid, I will say that I at least took some pity on him and provided him with a reach around.
Buggering him with passionate thrusts, just like Caesar had moments earlier, I took his modest sized erection in hand and provided him with some guilt-ridden obligatory strokes. He moaned through the ball gag but still made some attempt to shake his head. Perhaps his version of protesting his treatment. Matching the pumps of my hips with the pumps of my arm, stroke for stroke, we fell into a rhythm.
Standing pressed up behind him, I couldn't see his face, but from his moans, twitching member, and heavy breathing I could tell he was getting into it just as much as I was. His ass felt better and better as things went along. Maybe fuck-lust just colored my perceptions or maybe he started squeezing down on my inches. Couldn't say. But as I rode him home to my glorious climax, I grunted my thanks into his ear.
While I filled his ass with its third load of cum, I huffed out a few lame sounding words.
"Sorry, kid... couldn't help myself. But you were great. Time for you to shoot too, yeah?"
Weird thing was, he didn't. Or maybe he couldn't? With my pounding his prostate from the rear and wanking him off in the front, you'd of thought a young lad like him would have been blasting streams of boy cum in no time. Nope. He just shuddered, moaned again, then tried to mumble something that couldn't be made out.
Letting go of his stalk, a selfish thought occurred to me. At least I wasn't going to clean up the evidence his mess would leave behind.
I considered coming round front and going down on him to finish him off. Then I realized how deep in the shit of this situation I still was. 'Dangerous' didn't really come close to describing it. So I tucked myself away, patted his well used cheeks with an even more lame "Thanks...".
I took a few still photos of him with my phone from various angles, him following me about the room with his unreadable eyes. Then I left.
No, I didn't try and find the key. Yes, maybe I could have used the time I spent riding his ass looking around the room for it. And yes, a couple days later, I did notice a small key in one of the dozen or so still photos I took of the wolverine. A tiny thing, tucked away on the edge of one of the random shelves lined up behind the boy. But there's no way we could know if the right key! It's easy to say "should have" or "would have" but you weren't there. Besides, he had a chance to speak up in the beginning. Obviously he didn't know it was there either. Or maybe he did but already knew it wasn't the right key. Ever think of that, smart ass?
Anyway, back to the story. Yeah, I left him there. Still hard. Dripping mine and Caesar's cum. It is what it is.
A month has passed since then. The big stud movie star has been getting some press about being down at the shoot for his latest movie. Some big-budget sci-fi flick. Lots of robots, lasers, and explosions. Suppose that means the boy is being looked after by the city's police chief and those two other guys Caesar mentioned.
I called the the movie star's house earlier today, on a whim. A gruff voice picked up the phone.
"Yeah? What is it?" an impatient man demanded.
Then words fell out of my mouth. Without forethought or the slightest planning.
"Hey there, I'm Ted, Caesar's personal trainer? He mentioned wanting to make sure filly got some exercise while he was out on shoot. You guys mind if I come over and put the wolverine to work?"
I immediately started to sweat through my clothes. Why would I say that? What would possess me to take that risk? To tell those lies? And for what possible gain?
But I lucked out. The gruff voice chuckled deeply.
"Hah! Yeah, Caesar mentioned you a couple times. Said you were a good guy. Didn't know he had decided to let you in on our little secret. Sure, go ahead, come on over. You can wear the little guy out... and after he's all tired out and sweaty.... well, the four of us can just wear him out all over again. Sound fun?"
And so that's that. Maybe I'll regret this. Maybe I already do. And maybe it'll all blow up in my face.
But you don't manage to become the personal trainer for the rich and famous without learning how to take a few risks.