Rachel Exits

[John's POV]

I was shaking. Inside the room, Rob, was doing things to my wife. Horrible things.

I could hear slapping, and Rachel's squeals. Soon, Rob said he would lubricate my wife. I wasn't sure how he'd do that. Was he going to cum on her? No! Even the thought of that made me shudder. Plus, Rachel wasn't dumb enough to let him do something like that? Was she?

My wife's squealing wasn't helping me calm down either. Things like, "My panties!", "Oh god!", "D-don’t stop!" hurt the most. But finally, the commotion stopped. "Th-thank you, Rob," was the last thing I heard her whisper before silence.

The silence was deafening. I tried knocking on the door, trying to get in but I couldn't hear anything. What was going on?

After what seemed like an eternity, the door creaked open just a sliver.

I heard Rob's voice first, "Remember Rachel, from now on, I'll choose your outfits for you."

Suddenly, the door swung open fully. That's when I saw it: Rachel emerged wearing nothing but a black top. The top had been tucked into her bra from the back, revealing her perfect Latina bubble butt. I frowned, there was something wrong. There were red, hand-shaped markings on her ass cheeks. Her skin glistened under the harsh fluorescent lights—oil? Her thighs glistened with streaks of wetness that traced down to her ankles. And between her legs... bare. Completely bare. She looked... used. Dazed.

Rachel blinked at me, her pupils dilated. "John?" Her voice was thick, slurred. "Rob says... he says..." She trailed off, swaying slightly. The scent hit me—musky and sharp, like sweat and eucalyptus and something else... something deeply intimate. "He... he dissolved so much fat, John!" Her breath reeked of salt and exertion. "It felt like... like fireworks inside!" Her eyes widened suddenly. "Oh! And Rob!" She spun clumsily back toward him, almost tripping. "Thank you! Thank you for... for flushing out my toxins!" She beamed, oblivious to the slick trail she left on the floorboards. "I feel so light!"

"Rachel?" I choked out. Her eyes were unfocused, pupils blown wide. She didn't react to me at all. Instead, she turned back toward Rob, swaying slightly on her heels. Her voice came out thick and dreamy.

"Thank you, Rob," she murmured again, her fingers brushing his sleeve. "That muscle release... I feel so light now." Her gaze drifted downward. "Will my pectorals ache tomorrow?"

Rob chuckled, patting her bare ass with a wet *smack* that echoed in the hallway. "Only if you forget your homework." His thumb rubbed the angry red handprint on her left cheek. "We'll reinforce fascia adhesion protocols Thursday. Wear the halter dress I picked—no panties, remember?" Rachel nodded eagerly, her breasts bouncing beneath the thin fabric, despite her bra.

My throat was parched. "So that's it for today?" I asked, hopeful. Rob leered at me, nodding slowly.

"Yes, however as a personal trainer, it is my duty to ensure I provide the best service at all times, as such, I will need to stay at your house for the next couple of days."

"What?!" I blurted. "Why?"

Rachel piped up, oblivious. "John, is there something wrong with that?" Rob's grin widened. "Rachel, to give you the best results, I need to be there to personally supervise your exercises 24/7. Tell him--" Rob paused, pointing at me with contempt. "--to prepare the master bedroom for me."

Rachel turned to me obediently. "John, Rob says he needs to stay with us to supervise my exercises. Prepare the master bedroom for him."

Rob added with a smirk, "Yes, and since Rachel and I will be conducting intensive sessions there, you can sleep on the couch."