The Endurance Test: My Rough First Time with my Dad's Best Friend, the Coach: My Dad's Best Friend, #3

By Zoe Freud

It's the hardest training of her life - but also the realization of her forbidden bondage BDSM fantasy.

This is not how 19-year-old Tanya imagined her training session with former sprint world champion Major O'Connell. Major, 38, muscle-packed, well-endowed, and her father's best friend, pushes her to her limits. And unlike other men, he doesn't blow sugar up her butt. With his condescending manner, he soon ruffles the feathers of self-confident Tanya.

 

But at the same time, she's drawn to Major's gorgeous body and his dominant, masculine, and uncompromising nature. Major awakens dark fantasies in her, which do not at all fit the self-image of this self-confident young woman. In these kinky bondage fantasies, Tanya submits to her father's best friend, encounters his trademark piece - a riding crop - and literally loses her breath. Those fantasies remind her that there is more to life than sports - and that, at 19, she has never been in bed with a man. 

 

Tanya has no idea yet how close she is to realizing her fantasies and experiencing a very rough first time. Because Major has other things in mind apart from being her coach....

 

In this 8700-word story, an athletic young woman submits to her coach, a dominant alpha male, and loses her innocence to him. Major ties Tanya up and claims her so roughly that she's literally left breathless. And of course, he also uses his riding crop. If you like kinky bondage stories with dominant and arrogant alpha men, then this story is for you.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zoe Freud
• Release date: Aug 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9783754675991

Book preview

THE ENDURANCE TEST: MY ROUGH FIRST TIME WITH MY DAD'S BEST FRIEND, THE COACH

Zoe Freud

THE ENDURANCE TEST: MY ROUGH FIRST TIME WITH MY DAD'S BEST FRIEND, THE COACH

MY LUNGS WERE burning like fire. My legs felt heavy like stone. Sweat was pouring down my battered body and yet I was freezing cold as I ran my laps on the cinder track in the stadium. I had long since stopped counting how many laps I’d run. I felt nothing but exhaustion that was screaming at me from within to stop. Or better yet, to just let myself fall to the ground, despite the freezing cold and the thick snowflakes falling around me as densely as if I were inside a snow globe someone had just shaken. I could barely make out my father Dave anymore, standing just a few yards away in his warm jacket on the edge of the running track, and giving me one of his ‘valuable tips’ each time I passed him.

But taking a break was out of the question. And the reason was Major O'Connell, my father's best friend, who was jogging next to me, wearing only his shorts and running shoes. He was moving with such an ease as if we'd just started training a minute ago, when in fact we had covered several miles already.

Is that all you got, Tanya? he yelled at me, for the umpteenth time that day. This won’t work without a bit of discomfort, Princess. We're not on a catwalk here! Move your ass or we might as well call it a day!

He slapped my ass. I winced, and immediately ran faster.

There you go, that’s it! You're just not trying hard enough!

If I hadn't been so out of breath, I would’ve slapped him across the face for calling me princess. And especially for touching my ass. He might be my dad's best friend, but that didn't give him the right to touch me.

But the former sprint world champion who carried a first name his parents couldn't have chosen more appropriately obviously believed he could get away with anything—I'd noticed that more than once since he'd become my coach. Yet to my father, he was a saint who could do no wrong.

And now get on the ground! Fifty push-ups! Major barked.

But Major, I...

Stop!

With an effortlessness that I found almost humiliating, he overtook me, then turned around while running, continued backwards for a few meters and then suddenly stopped. He did this so suddenly that I collided with him. Luckily he caught me, otherwise I would’ve crashed ass-first onto the frozen ground.

Ugh!, I huffed, as I bumped against his broad chest and against the steely hardness of his taut abs. At 5’8, I wasn't exactly short for a woman, but Major still towered over me by a head and a half. For a split second we were close and to my surprise I smelled not sweat but the fresh scent of his deodorant—as if running hadn't cost him the slightest effort. But I didn't have time to wonder about that, as Major was already in the middle of one of his infamous scoldings.

"When I tell you to do fifty pushups, I want to see your tight ass