Posh's Dilemma II Ch. 03

POSH’S DILEMMA II – Moving On.

This story is a complete work of fiction.

Remember the difference between fantasy and reality is as fundamental as the difference between right and wrong.

This is a sequel to Posh's Dilemma. Reading Posh's Dilemma first would enhance the reading of this work as all references not accounted for in this story are covered in there or in Posh’s Dilemma II Chapters 1 and 2.

******

Chapter Three “Humiliated”

Victoria smiled at David as she lay contentedly across his lap. She had a glass of chilled white wine in one hand and lazily stroked her husband’s groin with the other. She wore a pair of high cut black silk knickers but was otherwise naked. Posh Spice sighed blissfully, knowing that she was safe in her husband’s arms grateful for the fact that he had forgiven her indiscretions and now knew all about her affair and the seedy blackmail that accompanied it. David had been outraged at first but once he had forgiven Victoria he acted swiftly to put an end to it all. Now they were even more close and in love than before.

At least that’s the way Victoria wanted the situation to be as she stepped out into the extensive driveway of ‘Beckingham Palace’ and headed for her car.

All that the email from Emma had said was “Go to Golden Bodies Gym at 2pm today.” What for, why? She knew that it would be unsavory and humiliating in some way, and she guessed that she was about to find out.

******

Victoria screeched to a halt in the empty car park at the rear of the Gym. Stepping out of the car she made her way towards the side entrance. Posh paused briefly and swallowed hard when she read the notice. “Gym closed today for a private party.” She knew that she was to be the private party and so she pushed the door open. It was dark inside and Victoria groped her way around the darkened corridors. The trainer’s changing facility was just off the main hallway and she could see a light shining beneath the door. Reaching the threshold she hesitated momentarily, and then knocked.

"Who is it?"

"It’s Victoria," she called out reluctantly.

There was a short silence, then the handle turned and the door swung open. A tall powerfully built man stood in the doorway, clad in a blue tracksuit, the zip of the top open almost to his waist revealing a muscled torso beneath. Beads of sweat showed on his forehead and she guessed he had been exercising. He smiled when he saw that it was her, baring his straight white teeth. "Come on in," he said.

Victoria stepped past him into the room. As she glanced round she began to feel uncomfortable. All about the floor were weights and exercise equipment, and on the walls were photos of women, all naked and in all kinds of poses, some of them bound or chained. As she gazed about she heard the man close the main entrance door, followed by the unmistakeable sound of a shooting bolt. She began to wish she had not come, but knew, deep down, that she had no choice.

She turned to face him. He was still smiling, his eyes roaming up and down her body. Posh had to admit that he was very handsome and she shivered, realising for the first time the inadequacy of the short T-shirt and skirt in conserving her modesty. She tugged at the hem of the shirt, trying to cover her exposed stomach. He grinned, enjoying her embarrassment.

"Hi Victoria," he said at last, somewhat sarcastically, “I’m Dale and I’m your personal trainer for the afternoon.”

Posh cringed as he emphasised the word personal.

"Oh, erm, right," she mumbled.

Posh stood and gazed stupidly at him, now thoroughly ill at ease, her hands still tugging at the hem of the T-shirt, wishing she had put on some underwear. But that was what the email told her to do. “Wear no knickers,” it had said.

"Sit down," he said, indicating a small hard backed chair in the centre of the room. She hesitated, glancing back at the bolted door behind her. There seemed nothing else for it. She sat gingerly down, conscious of the short brown suede skirt that she had been told to wear. Posh pressed her legs tightly together, tucking the front of the skirt into the gap at the top of her legs. She felt the material pull downwards but it still exposed a generous expanse of tanned thigh.

"Do you like to work out?" he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders with indifference.

"You should, it's good for you."

Victoria smiled bleakly.

She stared at him, her mind reeling. So that was it, he wanted to feast his eyes on her skimpily clad body whilst she performed for him on the equipment. He wanted to watch her work out on his machines. But she was so inadequately dressed. How could she possibly hope to retain her modesty in a T-shirt and skirt that even now was threatening to expose her openly, given that she wore no knickers?

Was there just him here? Somehow she doubted it.

The trouble was, there was no alternative. Victoria knew she couldn't walk out on this; it was all part of Emma’s plan and that bastard Nathan. She wanted to cry.

She looked at him in a very nervous and reluctant way and said, "Just a work-out?"

He grinned and nodded.

"Have ... have you got some clothes I could wear?"

He laughed and shook his head.

It was the T-shirt and skirt or nothing. Victoria slipped off her shoes and followed ‘her trainer’ out into the main exercise hall.

"Where do I start?" She asked, facing up to the inevitable.

He grinned at her and a lecherous smile crept onto his face. His eyes flicked briefly to the left indicating that Victoria was to move onto the Leg Curl machine. She groaned inwardly, realising immediately that this meant that she would be straightening her legs under weighted duress and revealing a great expanse of tanned flesh to Dale.

She got slowly to her feet and moved to the toning machine in question. She sat down on the black leather, her sweat-covered legs sticking to the seat where her skin touched it directly. She swung one leg over the middle control piece, which forced her thighs to stretch the suede skirt out to its maximum width and revealed the darkened recesses of her groin. Dale smiled openly. Posh writhed uncomfortably. She positioned her feet under the chrome bars and tensed her calf muscles ready to pull upwards. He set the timer for ten minutes.

“Okay, go,” he instructed.

Victoria grunted as her hamstrings stretched and the weights came up. It was hard work and she could feel herself slipping forward in the chair as the suede of her skirt stuck to the leather seat leaving her gradually exposing more and more of her thigh as she strained to lift the leg weights.

“Oh, shit,” Posh groaned as her legs gave way and the weights plummeted back down to their base.

“Do it again!” he growled simply but definitely.

Victoria heaved her legs again. Dale sat directly opposite her and watched as inch by inch her naked thigh gave way to her groin and the edges of her pubic hair came into view. She flushed red as he openly stroked his erection through his tracksuit whilst watching her workout.

Five more times he made her lift the leg weights until her legs were like jelly and she could lift no more.

“Okay, stop.”

Posh collapsed back in the seat her skirt bunched up round her groin and her perspiring breasts clearly outlined against her thin T-Shirt.

“Please,” she begged, “no more.”

"You’ve only just started slut,” he mocked.

"What next?"

“The exercise bike I think."

Wearily, she climbed to her feet, still breathing heavily. The shirt was beginning to stick to her body with the sweat, emphasising the shape of her breasts, and she straightened her skirt

The bike stood in the corner of the room, all gleaming chrome, with a thin leather saddle. He set the tension and then he stood back, watching her expectantly.

Gingerly Victoria stepped over the centre of the machine and hoisted herself up onto the thin saddle. Her legs were still numb from the leg machine. It was set high very much to suit his purpose and not to assist Victoria in any way, and she felt exposed sitting astride it. She tried to pull the skirt down over her thighs again and to tuck it between her legs, but really, to no avail.

"OK," he said. "Away you go."

Posh put her feet up on the pedals and began to turn them. It was harder than she had expected, and she found herself leaning forward and pushing hard. As she did so the T-shirt rode up her back, so that a large tanned patch of perspiration sheened naked flesh was exposed. Posh’s main embarrassment existed between her legs where her motions revealed tufts of her neatly trimmed pubic hair from beneath the brown suede. Dale grinned happily.

"That's better," he said. "The view isn’t normally this good!"

Victoria reddened with shame, aware of her predicament, and equally aware that she was helpless to do anything about it.

She rode on, developing a rhythm beginning to work up a sweat once again. Her breasts danced up and down as she pedalled, clearly outlined beneath the T-shirt. The skirt rode higher now; revealing her pink lips astride the long, thin saddle. As she strained, the leather ridge of the seat rubbed against her naked pussy and began to raise a stir between her legs. Posh felt a wetness develop and spread to her thighs as the constant motion teased her clitoris into a lustful twitch.

Posh suddenly she found herself gyrating her groin against the saddle, and moving her hips back and forth in a new rhythm designed more for her own excitement than the cycling.

She tried hard to hold back the feeling that was welling up inside her and she concentrated on the clock. Two minutes to go. She forced herself to think of other things, of David, her family, her next TV appearance, but all the time her body was thrusting down on that thin ridge of leather. Victoria looked up and saw that he was watching her closely and wondered if he was aware of her stimulation. Then she looked down and realised that the saddle was glistening with moisture, and she knew that he could see it too.

She checked the clock. There was one more minute to go. She must hold out for sixty more seconds and not let herself be overcome whilst he was watching.

On she pedalled. The seat was becoming slippery now as her wetness increased. Once again she felt her passion threatening to overwhelm her as the hard leather stimulated her between her legs. She could feel that her pussy and clitoris were swelling and her nipples had come erect beneath the T-shirt such that they projected proudly, clearly visible through the increasingly damp garment. The shirt was riding up almost to her shoulders now, revealing the delicious tanned sides of her bra-less breasts.

The seconds seemed like minutes. Would it never stop? Then the timer sounded, and she ceased pedalling gratefully, though she found herself momentarily unable to control her hips, which were still moving her pussy back and forth over the ridge of hard leather.

With an enormous effort of will she peeled herself from the saddle and climbed off the bike. She stood beside it, panting with exertion, and with the residue of her lust.

He came across and examined the machine. He ran his finger over the saddle. It came off wet. He held it up to her and grinned.

"Enjoy that did you?"

Posh didn't reply. Then she realised that the skirt was still around her waist, and she yanked it back down clumsily over her legs. "What now?" she asked.

"The weights." He indicated the weight machine. She looked concerned at the long padded bench and the complicated sequence of wires and pulleys attached to a block of large weights. Hanging above the bench was a long steel bar with rubber handgrips. "Just lie on the bench."

Victoria sat down on the edge of the bench, then swung her legs up and lay back.

"Just one thing," he said. "You will need these."

She looked at him, puzzled. "What?"

"These." Taking advantage of her disorientation he quickly slid in a pair of handcuffs from either side of the bar and took the confused Victoria’s wrists in his large grip.

Snap! Snap! Before she realised what he was doing he had snapped the cuffs around her left and then her right wrist. It was too late and Posh realised that she had been tricked. Even before she could cry out he had hold of her right ankle, pulling it down to the floor. She began trying to kick free, but he was too strong for her. From his pocket he produced a reel of sticky duct tape and bound her leg to the chrome support of the bench. Then he took hold of her other leg, gripped it hard and yanked it over the edge of the seat, where he secured it in a similar way. Then he stood back to admire his handiwork.

Victoria was trapped and helpless, her arms stretched wide apart above her head, her body pulled tight by the tape on her ankles. The skirt was once again riding up, exposing her wide-open pussy for his intense scrutiny.

She stared at him fearfully. What a fool she'd been to fall for this. Now she was really in trouble.

Dale crossed the room to a cupboard in the corner. He rummaged in a drawer for a short time, then reached in and pulled out a long ivory coloured dildo. It was about nine inches long and smoothly curved. It was the most wicked looking phallus she had ever seen. He weighed the instrument in his hand, as if handling it for the first time. Then, holding it in front of him, pointing upward, he approached her.

She shrank back in fear at the sight of the dildo so close to her. He brought it down and let its cold substance touch her thigh. She shivered as he grinned at her discomfort. Then he grabbed the hem of the skirt and bunched it all the way up to her waist. Taking the low neckline of Victoria’s T-shirt he tore it, effortlessly, down the middle so that the two halves sprang apart, revealing the cleavage of her breasts.

Posh presented a delightful sight, her hands held high in front of her, emphasising her vulnerability. Her breasts, firm and rounded, were parted slightly, making a small valley between them, the dark nipples forming prominent peaks on either side. Her belly was flat, her pubic hair neatly trimmed to a dark triangle. Her long, slim legs were forced wide apart, revealing her open lips to him, as if in invitation.

He moved to her side, placing his hand flat on her stomach. She wriggled slightly, staring fearfully up at him. His hand moved up to her breast.

"Don't!" she pleaded.

He grinned and cupped the underside of her breast, enjoying its smooth softness. He worked it round, feeling the nipple, rubbing it between his large fingers.

Almost at once the nipple began to harden, as Victoria responded to his touch. She closed her eyes, wishing that her body would not betray her. He focussed his attention onto her other breast now and she felt that respond to him as well. Despite herself, she found her body reacting to his caresses.

He continued the stimulation, squeezing and kneading her pliant breasts whilst Posh writhed beneath him. He leant over and began sucking at one of her nipples, which now stood hard and proud, inviting his lips. She groaned aloud as she felt his mouth close over it, sucking hard, his tongue flicking at the tip whilst his hand continued to work on the other.

He lifted his head from her and looked her in the eye. "Like that, do you?" Victoria closed her eyes, ashamed.

His mouth returned to her nipple, but she felt his hand leave her other breast and begin sliding down across her rib cage, over her stomach and down, past the bunched up skirt, towards her groin.

"No!" she said, struggling hopelessly.

But the hand continued its journey, pausing slightly to stroke her pubic hair, and then down between her legs, sliding between the outer lips of her pussy and finding her swollen clitoris almost at once.

She let out a gasp as she felt him take it between his fingers. A warm wetness rose within her as his hands toyed with her, teasing her clitoris into life so that she could feel it swelling. His fingers stroked round it with a circular motion, barely touching it, making her cry out in frustration.

"No!" she said again, but her aroused body was saying the opposite. She flung her head from side to side as he continued to suck her nipples and tease her pussy. She felt her juices running freely. She knew she would soon be unable to contain them and she blushed with shame at the thought of him seeing this blatant betrayal of her arousal.

He moved down the bench so that he was sitting between her open thighs, studying her wet, pink slit, pulling apart the lips and increasing her exposure still further. He reached for the dildo, and she watched with apprehension as he stroked its length suggestively, still studying her almost naked body.

He ran the phallus up the inside of her thighs, its coldness against her skin making her shiver. He pressed it harder to her flesh, sliding it ever further up toward the top of her legs. She groaned with the feel of it, knowing where it would go next.

The end of the dildo was thick and knobbly, about an inch in diameter. He held it steady in his right hand whilst forcing apart her cunt lips with the other. Then, slowly, he began pushing the end of the object up against them, twisting it as he pushed.

With a gasp of uncontrolled lust she felt it enter her vagina, its coldness causing the muscles to contract, almost pushing it out again. But he held her steady and began gently pressing it further in, continuing to twist it as he did so, so that the friction stimulated her deliciously.

“Oooohhhhhh!”

Further and further in he pushed. Victoria, now completely out of control, strained to widen her legs still further to accommodate the dildo that was working her up to such a frenzy, pressing on the floor with her legs to raise her backside from the bench, offering her slit to him in the most lewd and wanton manner, caring only for the object upon which she was becoming impaled.

He had forced it in to the hilt, and he twisted it again, bringing a hoarse, animal-like cry from her lips. He reached up and ran his hands over her stiff nipples. Her entire body was in a state of delicious tension now as she strained upward. A film of sweat had broken out on her body, making her breasts glisten in the harsh light of the room.

Her mind was a whirl. She knew he shouldn't be doing this to her. She knew too that she should be fighting it, that he had no right to strip her and abuse her in this way. But the sheer eroticism of the situation overwhelmed her. Here she was, almost naked, bound and helpless, her breasts and pussy bare and unprotected, and being subjected to the most intimate assault imaginable, and she was responding with a lustful passion she had not known herself capable of.

“F…f…fucckkkk!”

He began moving the dildo in and out, twisting it gently as he did so, allowing the smooth surface to stimulate her clitoris, so that she whimpered quietly with pleasure. It was moving easily now, lubricated by her juices, sliding up inside her, giving her a shock of delight and then slipping back again until only the very end remained inside her.

“Oh my …” Victoria moaned in response to the repeated assault on her body.

His movements became faster now. A new urgency seemed to have gripped him and he rammed the dildo hard into her. She responded, thrusting her hips up at him, stretching her legs still wider, so that her clitoris stood proud. He reached for her breasts, which were dancing deliciously to the rhythm of his thrusts. His hand closed, around her firm, soft globes, rubbing the nipples, still damp with his saliva and her sweat.

He could see that she was close to her climax. She too realised that she was about to humiliate herself by submitting to him in such an obvious and degrading manner. But her lust was too great. She was crying out now with every stroke, her bottom slapping up and down on the bench as she thrust her groin up at the object of her assault. Then he felt her body stiffen, and she arched herself back, clear of the bench.