Our meet sparked on Grindr, that evergreen app for quick connections, but with a trendy twist: I hosted a live stream challenge where followers voted on my next “victim.” Enter Jake, a closeted corporate type, messaging me after seeing my profile pic—a shirtless pose flexing my biceps, sweat glistening like dew. “Train me,” he begged in his bio, but I knew he meant more than weights. Our chats evolved into video sessions on a private platform, where I’d command him from my home gym, dressed in nothing but a jockstrap that strained against my throbbing cock.
I cast him as my personal slave in a fantasy boot camp. “Drop and give me twenty,” I’d order, but instead of push-ups, he’d strip and edge himself on cam, his breaths ragged as I described pinning him down on the mat, my muscular thighs locking around his head, forcing him to rim my ass while I flexed above him. No limits pushed us into intense territories—fisting sessions where I’d guide him to stretch his hole with toys mirroring my fist, narrating every inch as if I were there, my voice a deep growl despite my twink charm. Trendy elements included wearable tech; we’d sync smart watches, my commands timed to his heart rate spikes, denying orgasm until he hit red zone.
I imagined chaining him in a dungeon gym, whipping his back lightly with jump ropes, then fucking him raw, my cock breeding him deep while he begged for mercy. The twist? Jake was married to a man who suspected nothing, but I orchestrated a reveal—sending anonymous clips to his husband, igniting a firestorm that led to a threesome confrontation. In the heat, I dominated both, fisting Jake while his hubby watched, then switching to pound the husband, muscles rippling as I orchestrated their submission.
Reality blurred when Jake flew in for a “training weekend.” We met at a high-end gym, locking the doors for privacy. I bench-pressed him metaphorically and literally—lifting him onto equipment, railing him against the mirrors, our reflections multiplying the ecstasy. Violent edges emerged: choking holds from wrestling moves, bites that drew blood, all consensual in our no-limits world.
Now, Jake’s free, and we’re partners in crime.