Stay With Me - Rachel X Amy (Part 1/3, 1K Words) (Patreon)

I'd hoped to get Part 2 and 3 finished for release this month, but I'll be aiming for next month and post when they're good and ready. This is like a mini-anthology, with each part showing a different angle of Rachel and Amy's relationship. Hope you enjoy, and feedback's always appreciated!

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 "Stay with me!" Amy held her hand outstretched, her fingertips just barely touching the thick iron bar that was trembling in Rachel's grip. Her chiselled girlfriend was on the tail end of a brutal set of preacher curls, with sweat dripping from her chin and nose as she hunched over the padded support. Her swollen biceps stubbornly held the loaded barbell half way through her rep, keeping level with her Mistress' fingers. Amy lowered her hand inch by inch and in almost perfect sync, Rachel followed. The entire movement scorched those working biceps from top to bottom, sinews thrumming across the steely mass as a the muscle shifted through every part of the rep. It had taken Rachel half an hour to start crying. Now, she was a blubbering mess with tears rolling down her face, shaking her head side to side and huffing out moans and gasps with every breath. Her dark eyes were pleading hopelessly into the cold glare of her Mistress who continued to demand more and more beyond reason.

 Once the bar was an inch above the rack, Amy stopped her hand again. Rachel wailed in despair, grit her teeth and bowed her head. Her whole body was vibrating, and Amy could feel the heat coming from her. The pair were bizarre in their juxtaposition. Amy, pale and blonde, tall and slender. Composed, authoritative. Rachel... a hot mess of compact muscle growling like a wounded animal. Looking over her shoulder alone revealed the trail of used equipment behind her. Kettlebells for lateral raises with static holds in between, plates and a bar for pullups weighted and unweighted. Barbells, dumbbells and bands atop patches of sweat that been the spots of all kinds of upper body torture. Amy rotated the exercises carefully, demolishing every muscle group in turn, leaving enough space between hitting the same spot again for just a touch of recovery. By the time her shoulder muscles gave out, she could hit her chest again. Once her chest couldn't give any more, it was time for her back. The tiniest spots even in her forearms, neck and lower chest had a complete work over in rotation, barely holding out with each set. Now Amy had finished playing with her food. It was time for complete failure. Rachel had been crusading through this torture session for four and a half hours without asking for a break once. Her mouth was dry, her head hot, her body traumatized. But the next rep and the words of her Mistress were all that mattered. A sob burst out of her again but she kept the bar above the rack. Each new workout was harder than she could have imagined. As her body grew harder, stronger and more difficult to break, her Mistress only got better at breaking her.

  "Hold." Amy ordered before moving her hand away and leaning forward. Rachel could only gasp and moan submissively as their lips touched. Amy withheld the kiss, staying close, listening to each breath and whimper. "Well? I'm waiting..."

  Rachel barely got the words out through chokes and sobs: "Thank...you! M-miss...tress!"

  With a satisfied nod, Amy finally leaned closer and parted her lips. "Lift that fucking bar, slave." she didn't raise her voice, but it still made Rachel flinch. The wail of despair from the tortured slave made Amy give a delighted shudder. The way it became a roar of endless effort turned her on even more. Rachel clenched her eyes shut and worked like a beast, and a full ten seconds later the heavy weight began a glacial rise. Amy put her hand behind Rachel's head and wove the thick, wet locks between her fingers, then pulled hard and twisted. "Up! Up!" Rachel's howling was only broken up by sobs as her hands clenched harder, taut muscle and veins snaking up her forearms and biceps. Her body was rocking back and forth, trying to cheat a fraction of momentum but another sharp pull from Amy fixed that. The obscene pump of Rachel's muscles had reached her shoulders, criss-crossed with sweaty strands of hair. The girls face was dark red, contorted with pain, no mask of dignity or pretty effort, only her absolute best effort until the very end. With almost no warning, Rachel screamed. The bar stopped rising, trapped in a stalemate between gravity, breaking muscles and reckless determination. The girl emptied her lungs fully before it dropped, and it dropped all at once. The weight smashed to the floor and rolled away as Rachel collapsed backwards. Her world spun, her chest heaved as she hyperventilated, squeezing the tight, wet sports bra over her hard pecs and nipples. The sinews along her body shone with sweat as they twitched. Her rock hard, biceps throbbed with an agonising cramp and Rachel stared at the ceiling, taking in a cascade of sensations.

 Not looking at her slave, Amy took a plate off of each side of the barbell and rolled it back in front of the preacher curl bench. Even with the reduced weight, she had to be careful and use her full body to lift it back into it's place on the rack. She then planted her bare foot on Rachel's stomach, pressing her weight down firmly. "You done?" she asked, impassively.

  "A g-good slave... isn't finished... until Mistress... says she's finished..." Rachel gasped between gulps and moans, her voice shaking. 

  "And are you a good slave?" Amy tried shove her foot down, but the abs beneath didn't give an inch.

  With a pained smile and every word an effort, Rachel replied, "The b-best."

  Right answer. Amy stepped off.

  "Good girl. Now, Since you like laying on the ground so much, give me fifty push ups before we continue." Amy ordered impassively. To speed her up, she gave a sharp kick with her bare foot to Rachel's lower oblique. Her foot bounced off as though she had hit a truck tire, but it at least got the collapsed woman moving. Rachel obediently rolled over, slapped her hands to the floor put her tortured arms back to work.