The food was delicious.
Blake watched me as he fed me, a smug look written across his face. When I finished, he pushed the plate away and lifted me from his lap, patting my back as he did so.
He stood up and poked my stomach, smirking. I flinched, a burn of embarrassment rising in my chest. He chuckled, and gently tugged me away from the table, pulling me towards the doors into the hallway, and then into the gym. "Alright, my pet. Are you ready to work it all off?"
I nodded, even though I didn't feel ready. I felt weak and tired.
Blake paused, looking up and down at my dress. He pondered something for a moment, then in a smooth voice, he ushered a single word command. "Strip."
I stared at him, confused, as he had only just given me these clothes. He rolled his eyes at me. "Don't give me that look. I'm not going to let you dirty that pretty little dress of yours, am I, my rose? You can keep your bra and underwear on if you so desire."
I swallowed the lump in my throat and took a shaky breath. Then, slowly, I picked up the bottom hem of the dress and pulled it up and over my shoulders.
When I looked back at Blake, he was looking at his watch and barely glanced at my bare skin. Why would he? It wasn't anything he hadn't seen already.
"Good girl. Now, get on the treadmill. Ten minutes." He said and tapped at his watch. It beeped, and he nodded at me. I climbed onto the machine and took a deep breath, before reaching for the controls myself and switching it on.
Blake just watched me for a few moments, then stepped back and leaned against the wall. I couldn't help but notice how his eyes dropped, staring intently at my body, rather than my face. My cheeks burned and I looked away, trying to focus on running.
I fell into a rhythm, my feet hitting the treadmill at a steady pace. I gently shut my eyes and breathed, letting myself feel the adrenaline of the exercise. It was hard to get into the right headspace because of how tired my body was. It felt as though each step was laborious, an extra effort to try keep going.
After a few minutes, Blake cleared his throat. I looked up at him, and he nodded at the machine. "You're almost there, my rose. Only two more minutes to go. Why don't you step it up a notch?"
I took a deep breath and did as told. He smiled at me. "Good girl, my rose. So well-behaved."
To avoid looking at him, I looked at my feet. I fell back into a rhythm, the sound of my feet hitting the rubber a strange comfort. If I focused on that sound, I could ignore Blake, and his words.
I could tune it all out.
Then his voice cut through, his real voice, not the one bouncing around my head. I looked up, distracted, and it took me a moment to understand what he had said.
"Your ten minutes are up, my rose. You can get off now."
I blinked, then reached across and switched the machine off. It slowed, and I stepped down from the tract. Blake grinned at me, looking proud. "Well done, my rose. You handled that incredibly well. Are you ready for the next one?"
"The next one?" I echoed, already feeling weak, my limbs aching with pain. I didn't want to do any more. He just chuckled.
"Of course, my rose. You didn't think that would be it, did you?" He asked.
I bit my lip. He smirked, and moved across the room, to one of the other machines. The gym was filled with all kinds of exercise machines, but I had only used the treadmill before. From what Blake was leading me to believe, that was about to change. I followed him, stopping at a contraption with a leather seat, and a bar high above.
YOU ARE READING
Black Rose
Mystery / Thriller"You are my rose. You will do as I say, when I say it." "And what if I don't?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper in between sobs. When he responded, he didn't stutter or pause. His voice was low, his words barely a hiss. But somehow, I knew he wasn...