Photo Strip
Chapter 3 The Keep Fit Class
I arrived at the underground photo studios at seven in the evening, as instructed, and Clive showed me into the office. Jane motioned me to sit beside her on the settee.
"We've got a couple of parts lined up for you so far," said Jane, her hand on my leg.. "Having seen your performance at the training, we're certain you'll fit the bill."
"In a couple of days time you'll be playing the role of someone who runs over a dog, and has to face the irate owners. But tonight we'll be shooting a story about a keep fit class, and the shapely ladies who exercise in it." said Clive, referring to his clip board. "You'll be playing the part of a gym trainer."
It turned out that they had hired a local health club for the evening. Helping them to carry out a trunk full of costumes and props, I piled into a car, and we headed to the venue. I was impressed when we got inside. It was a modern centre, all very clean and bright. We made our way to the women's changing rooms, and dropped the trunk.
The six women from the training session were already waiting in there. "Jane will be along shortly, ladies, to hand you your costumes and brief you about the story." He said. He opened the trunk, revealing a pile of gym wear. "Ian, I'd like you to change into these," he said, pulling out a T-shirt, pair of shorts, and a track suit. "The trainers you're wearing will be OK."
I made my way to the men's changing room, and stripped off. I pulled on the white T-shirt which fitted tightly across the chest, and stopped short just above my navel. I was just bending to step into the shorts, when Gerald entered. Gerald was a negro, over six feet tall, and well built with it.
"Nice arse!" he grinned, playfully patting my backside, before sitting down to watch me dress. "I've been told I'm not due on until well into the action," he explained. "Clive's just sorting out my gear now."
I pulled the shorts on. They were the sort without an inner lining, and were at least two sizes too small, outlining the bulge of my cock and balls as I pulled them up into position. They were so low cut that about half an inch of the top of my pubic hair was on show above the waistband, and the legs were so short that although my cock didn't actually hang out, it was wedged there in the opening of the leg, and being so clearly outlined, it was obvious from the most casual of glances. Gerald gave me funny look.
"For god's sake position it upright, man!" So saying, he pulled my shorts down, held my prick upright by its tip, and told me to pull them up again. I did this, but they were still too tight to be comfortable, and looked even more obscene. I pushed my cock back down to its original position and shrugged. "Gonna have a track suit on, anyway," I said casually. "I just won't get myself into a sweat so as to have to take it off!" "Don't bet on it!" he remarked. "They know our measurements from the interview - how come they couldn't find a better fit? I reckon you're being set up for something!"
I said nothing, and put on the track suit, which made me distinctly uneasy. It fitted perfectly ....
Clive came in, and led me to the gym. It was a typical gym, with wall bars, a vaulting horse, and a pile of miscellaneous apparatus in a corner, weights, ropes, and so on. He explained that the storyline had me running a very popular keep-fit class for ladies. So popular, that there was a year's waiting list to get into it, so I had a lot of power in making sure they kept to the rules, and worked out exactly as I told them.
"Jane and I will be giving the instructions, but feel free to ad-lib a bit yourself, as if you really are in charge. It adds realism. The girls have been told to follow your instructions as well as ours," he added.
Jane added: "One of the rules of the class is that, for hygiene reasons, no underwear is allowed, just shorts and T-shirts. If you spot any infringement, you can punish the offender any way you want!"
Just then the ladies walked in, wearing very short, very loose shorts, and figure hugging T-shirts.
"OK Ian, get the girls doing their warm-up exercises, following your lead."
I instructed the girls to copy me, legs together and apart, arms up and down. I stopped to let them carry on with the exercise, and walked along the row, inspecting them. Their T-shirts were so tight that the outline of their nipples could be seen through three of them. I had a closer look at Shirley. I was familiar with her nipples from the training session. I came to the conclusion she simply had to be wearing a bra under her top.
"Shirley," I shouted. "Take that T-shirt off. Now!" Shirley removed it, and sure enough there was a bra underneath it. "You know that underwear is not allowed!" I shouted, walking up to her and roughly unfastening her bra and removing it.
Her nice large tits flopped with relief at their new found freedom.. Shirley started replacing her T-shirt. I snatched it from her. "Learn the hard way. You can finish the session without it." Clive was running around us, furiously taking photos of it all.
"Anyone else want to own up to wearing a bra?" I asked. Two hands went up, Jeannie's and Pat's.. "OK, the two of you," I ordered, "strip to the waist!" I walked along the row, collecting the discarded clothes. "Now lets get on with the exercises!" I said.
We resumed. I varied the exercises, and made them more vigorous, to get the six free boobs bouncing well. Before long, the sweat was gathering on my brow.
"Ian, you're getting too hot! Take your track suit off!" called Jane. "Girls, as he does, stare, point, and giggle at what you see!" I cursed under my breath, but in truth, I was getting so warm that it was quite a relief when I had discarded it. The girls ogled my tight shorts, pointed at my bulges, and giggled. Clive recorded the moment on camera.
"Hold on a minute!" suggested Jane. "Shirley, go over to Ian and point at his dick. Touch his shorts with the tip of your finger!!"
Shirley laid her fingertip on the flimsy leg of the shorts struggling to cover my cock, ran it up and down the length a couple of times, and let it rest on the head. It was beginning to get uncomfortable, trying to swell against the pressure of the tight shorts.
"Hold it there!" said Jane, "while Clive takes a few shots." Clive did his bit, and Jane announced it was time for a new exercise. "Ian will demonstrate. Down on the floor, Ian, and lie on your back. Raise your legs and bum in the air, supporting them by putting your hands on your hips, and do upside-down cycling."
I got in position, and the girls crowded round. Of course, they could see the end of my knob peeking at them down the leg of my shorts! I started cycling, and the movement of my legs caused the shorts to ride up. Before long, my bell-end was completely out of the leg of my shorts, shining angrily at them. "Keep going, Ian!" instructed Jane, while Clive got busy with his camera again, zooming in for a close-up on the head of my cock. Gerald was right! Jane had certainly known what size costumes to pick!
"OK, Ian, now get the girls doing it." Relieved, I got up from the floor, and adjusted my shorts as best I could. The girls smirked. "Into the cycle position, everyone, and pedal away!" I told them. They all lay down on the floor, and started repeating the exercise I had just done.
As I walked along the row, inspecting them, their lovely legs went up and down, and their wide-legged loose shorts flapped around at floor level, giving me quick flashes of pubic hair. I got as far as Barbara, and couldn't believe my eyes. She had got knickers on under her shorts!
"Stop, everybody, and stand up!" I instructed. "I've already reminded you of the rules about sportswear, as three of you know. But it seems at least one of you is wearing knickers under her shorts. Take them off, Barbara."
Barbara put on a sulky look, and removed her shorts. I took them from her "And the knickers, please!" I said. "Get them off, too, and give them to me!" Barbara reluctantly removed them, revealing a pert bum, and black bush.
"Anybody else want to own up?" I asked. No-one said a word. I walked down the line again, lifting the legs of their shorts. To my disbelief I discovered that Pat, already stripped to the waist for wearing a bra, was also wearing knickers.
"You too!" I snapped. "Get them off!" "OK, but give me back my T-shirt first." "You do as I say or you are out of the class!" Pat stripped off her shorts and pants, and stood there naked. Clive was having a field day with his camera! "You can complete today's session in the nude!" I told her.
"And now a punishment for not owning up when you had the chance!" I added, sitting on the gym bench. "Over my knee! You're in for a good spanking!" When she was in position I spread her legs well apart, and ran my hands down between her legs gently massaging the lips of her cunt. Then I started the spanking. Under her naked body, my prick perked up, and popping out of the end of my shorts again, its head was soon thrusting hard against her clitoris.
I administered six strokes in a slow, leisurely way, rubbing her cunt gently between each slap. "Get back cycling!" I said when I had finished, and soon the twelve legs were pedalling in the air again, affording a lovely view of a couple of unclad fannies, their lips moving against each other as their legs pulled them in different directions.
"All right!" called Jane. "Time for a break. Five minutes!" And they all broke off, and started chatting amongst themselves.
Looking back, it must have been pre-arranged by Clive and Jane, but at the time, it all seemed very realistic. Without warning, the girls turned on me, pulled my T-shirt off, bundled me over to the vaulting horse, and forced me over it, face down. With some cord, they tied one wrist to each leg on the far side of the horse. "This will teach you how to treat a girl!" spat Pat, who I noticed had put her clothes back on. I trembled, they had obviously been instructed to take their revenge! But how?
At this moment Gerald walked in, sporting a silk gown. "No-one strips my wife off except me, mister!" he hissed, roughly ripping off my shorts, leaving me stretched over the vaulting horse, my bare arse prominently displayed. Two of the girls were soon tying cord around my ankles, and then they spread my legs and bound them to the other two legs of the vaulting horse
Gerald stood behind me, put his hand through my legs, and casually felt my prick. "Not a match for this one, man!" he crowed, casting off his gown. He had nothing on underneath the gown, his big black cock hanging down about eight inches. "Get me ready, girls!" he grinned. He had obviously been briefed in full beforehand, whereas I hadn't, to add to the realism, no doubt!
Pat and Barbara stood each side of him, one stroking his prick, the other massaging his balls. Before long, he had an erection that must have been nearly a foot long! All the time Clive was buzzing around with the camera.
"I'm going to fuck you now!" he shouted, and I felt the shaft of his hot prick laying along the whole length of my cleavage. "God!" I thought. "Even if I wanted to back out of the contract, I'm helpless, here! Is he actually going to rape me?"
Gerald stayed in that position for a good two minutes, sliding his shaft up and down my crack, while Clive got every angle. Then at a signal from Clive, he started teasing the tip of his cock around the area of my very exposed ring, before sliding his whole prick under my balls and pulling his stomach up close against my arse. In this position, he thrust in and out for a few minutes. Phew! I was relieved. It was only going to be a simulation, after all!
"Cut!" called Jane. I was released from my bonds. I pulled on the track suit, Gerald put on his gown. "No hard feelings, mate?" he asked, shaking hands. "Yes, one very large very hard feeling," I grinned, ruefully. "The photo shoot is over! Into the showers, everyone!" announced Clive.
Gerald and I returned to the men's changing room, stripped, and got under a nice hot shower. "See that?" asked Gerald, pointing to a frosted glass door in the wall at the far end of the shower area. We walked over, and opened the door. It was a steam room. There was so much steam we couldn't see more than a foot in front of us. We went in, and luxuriated in it. Then, as I moved further in to the room, I bumped into a body.
"Who on earth was this?" I wondered. There was nobody else using the men's changing room. I felt its outline, and my hands settled on a pair of tits. A voice giggled. I was suddenly surrounded by three women, and they started enthusiastically feeling me all over.
The penny soon dropped. It was a communal steam room, linking the two changing rooms! The hands feeling me didn't cease, and I was soon led to a tiled bench, where they laid me down, and started to concentrate their massage on my prick and balls.
I felt around a bit, too, and my hand alighted on a clitoris, whose I know not, which I then began to stroke. Soon I had a raging hard-on, and the clitoris removed itself from my hand.
Disappointed, I was just about to get up, when the cunt belonging to the clitoris in question descended on my prick, completely enveloping it. We started moving rhythmically, and after the evening's excitement, it wasn't more than a minute before I shot my load, gasping and moaning as I did so.
"Look lively!" shouted Clive in the distance. "We've got to be out of here shortly."
Gerald and I showered again, comparing notes. The same had happened to him.
We returned to the changing room, got dressed, and met Clive and Jane outside..
"OK folks?" asked Clive. "You bet!" we replied.
Little did Clive realise what we had been up to, or he would have been there with his camera, for sure! The best part of it was that neither Clive nor Jane knew of the existence of the stream room!
And tomorrow - a doggy story? Now what awaits me there?
To be continued .....