The Trainer (On Hold)

Dumbbell

Samantha wrapped her arms around her tiny waist, trying to cover her nakedness. The man, no, the beast who was keeping her prisoner had forced her to strip down to her undergarments. Not for sexual gratification, but to examine her body like she were a piece of livestock. 

Her mind could not even fathom the humiliation she was being forced to endure.  What little fight was in her had been stripped away like her clothing.  She stood there, numb, while he paced around her.

"Your ribs are sticking out, you have the breasts of a prepubescent girl, your collar bone looks like it could be ripped out by a dog-"

She shut out the rest of his words.

Her head slumped down.

Bryce put his hands on either side of her head and forced her to look at him. "I'm not telling you these things to be a douche, Sam. A trainer must be brutally honest with his clients."

No response.

He pulled her over to the scale. "Let's get your weight, then we can get started on your first training session. We're going to work on arms today, because they need the most attention."

Samantha stepped onto the scale.

"One hundred and two pounds? Damn, it's even worse than I thought. How tall are you?"

"Five three."

"You should weigh at least twenty more pounds."

Samantha's eyes met his. "Has it ever occurred to you that there are more important things in life than one's appearance?  People are so much deeper than what they look like."

Bryce scratched his head.  "I once dated an ugly chick with a 'good personality.'  It didn't end well."

"What happened?"

"The dumb bitch told me that I was too shallow and that she could do so much better.  She dumped me and got with some computer geek.  I'm pretty sure they're married now and living in the suburbs."

For a moment, the arrogance faded from his face, and he became distant.  Samantha used the opportunity to step off the scale and rest her hand on his shoulder.  "That must have hurt."

"It did at first," He said, "But then I realized I could do so much better.  She had acne from eating too much sugar, and her ass was huge."

Samantha was sickened.  She had to swallow her disgust.  "You know, I could show you the good traits inside of people.  You don't have to live your life being shallow."

"I'm not shallow.  I'm honest."  He shook her hand off of his shoulder and shoved her away.  "That's enough talking.  It's time to get to work.  Go change into the active wear I bought you and we'll get you started doing some light dumbbell presses."

"I don't need to do presses. I'm happy with the way I look, no matter what you think."

"This isn't a discussion, Samantha. I have ways of forcing my clients to exercise."

Samantha relented.  She covered her nakedness with the active wear and stood in front of him, frowning as he handed her a set of five dumbbells.

"Anyone can press ten pounds," He said, "Give me three minutes of strict presses with these dumbbells, then we'll move on to curls."

"Shouldn't I stretch first?"

"Stretching is for pussies."

"Ugh. That's such a disgusting word."

Bryce put his hand on his chest. "My apologies. I should have said stretching is for sissies."

Samantha shook her head. This guy was so clueless that she almost felt sorry for him. However, she was more concerned for her own safety.

She wondered if anyone had reported her missing.

It hadn't been long enough for the police to investigate-less than forty eight hours. But maybe someone was concerned enough to make a big enough deal about it to cause them to at least look into it. That was her only hope.

"Squat, Samantha."

She did as he told her, keeping the dumbbells firmly in her hands as she pressed them. Her shoulders burned like fire by the half way mark, but when she tried to take a small rest, he put his hands below her
elbows and forced her to lift.

When the three long minutes finally passed, she held on to the dumbbells and inhaled sharply.

Bryce jotted a note on his clipboard. "Very nice, Samantha. How do your arms feel?"

She looked up at him, her eyes burning with rage. "You really want to know?"

"Duh. I wouldn't have asked if-"

Before he could speak another word, Samantha bashed the side of his head with one of the dumbbells, sending him falling down like a clumsy tower. She threw the dumbbells down and ran towards the basement door, trying to no avail to open it. "No!" She screamed, beating her fists on the door.

Wait!

Bryce had to have the keys with him.

She had to get them before he came to.

Legs trembling beneath her, she ran back to the subdued trainer and reached her hand into his left pocket, biting back a squeal of excitement when she felt the keys. She yanked them out and turned to bolt back to the door.

But she was stopped short when Bryce wrapped his hand around her ankle, pulling her down to the cold cement with him. "You ungrateful bitch!" He growled, rolling her over so that she was lying on her back.

Climbing on top of her, he used one hand to pin her wrists down while using his other hand to grab a clump of her red hair, slamming her head repeatedly into the floor. "All I wanted to do was help you!! How could you do this!? Don't you want to be healthy!!" She screamed as her head hit the cement over and over again. "People pay top dollar to have the kind training I'm giving you!! How could you be so disrespectful to me!?"

Samantha's screaming stopped.

Bryce released her hair and stared down at her. Her eyes were wide open. She wasn't moving.

"Damn it," Bryce mumbled, "I shouldn't have taken the 'roids this morning."