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.
"This is a Lat pulldown machine. I'm assuming that you've seen one before?" He asked, and I nodded. "Good. For correct technique on this machine, you need to keep your chest up. I know that might be hard with these." He chuckled, grabbing at my left breast. I flinched away and he just rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Keep your chest up, and your elbows pointed down. Lower the bar to your chin, and pull with your armpits, not your arms. I'll be watching for correct technique. I want you to do fifty. Understood?"
"Fifty?" I asked, incredulous. He smirked.
"Have a problem with that, my rose? You did tell me that your arms were fine, remember?" He said.
I nodded, pursing my lips. "Right. No problem, Sir. Fifty it is."
He smiled and gently took my chin in one hand. He stared at me for a moment, then pressed his lips against mine before dropping his hand and moving away. Dumbfounded, I stared at him for a moment longer. He rolled his eyes at me. "Sit, my Rose. Get started. Or I'll add another ten."
I blushed and quickly mounted the machine. As I reached up and wrapped my fingers around the bar, my sides ached, my muscles already tight and sore. I winced at the pain, but when I glanced across at Blake, he just smirked.
I pursed my lips, and, keeping Blake's advice in mind, I began to pull the bar down. It was so much harder than I expected it to be, my shoulders still utterly shattered after Blake's 'lesson'. I managed to push through the pain and pulled the bar down to just below my chin, before gently letting it lift back up.
"Good job, my rose," Blake said, with a smile. "Just make sure you keep your elbows pointed down. Now, keep going."
So I did. Each time I pulled the bar down, my arms burned with pain, but just like I had with the treadmill, I focused on the machine itself, on the creak of the wiring as I pulled the bar down, at the sound of the chains clicking, then the whir as I let it go back up. I got into a rhythm, and I focused on that rhythm.
My shoulder muscles started aching with pain after about number thirty. It only got steadily worse after it started, but I pushed past the pain and kept going.
Finally, I grit my teeth, and made it to the last one. I pulled the bar down one last time, then gradually lifted it back up, and let go. My arms were shaking with exhaustion, and they instantly fell into my lap. I grinned at Blake, catching my breath.
He smiled back. "Good job," he said. "Your technique got a little sloppy towards the end there, but you otherwise did very well, my rose."
He stood up from where he had been sitting, watching me from the bench of another machine, and gestured for me to stand.
I swung my legs around and did as told. As I stood, I noticed just how tired and weak I actually felt. My limbs felt heavy, and seemed to respond half a second behind any command I gave them. I felt relieved to be done, though.
Or, I thought I was done.
"Are you ready for your final exercise, my rose?" Blake asked.
I froze. Gritting my teeth, I asked, "You mean that wasn't enough?"
He smirked. "Not quite. I have one more task."
Anger and frustration flared within me, and all of a sudden I couldn't hold it back. "I'm exhausted, Blake. My body is literally shaking. Give me a fucking break, will you?"
I regretted the words the moment I finished speaking, but it was too late.
"Just when I thought you were doing so well."
He grabbed my arm and I whimpered. He started to drag me away from the machines, and out the door. He was towards the room at the end of the corridor, the torture room, and I began to beg.
"Please, sir, I didn't mean to upset you. I'll do what you want just please don't punish me again, please sir." I said, my voice shaking with fear.
Blake rolled his eyes. "I was going to give you an easy final exercise, something that wouldn't be too hard, to reward you, but with that attitude you just made things a whole lot harder for yourself."
He pushed me into the torture room, and shut the door. I stumbled and almost tripped, but managed to stay on my feet. He glared at me across the concrete, then wordlessly grabbed my arm again, and started pulling me across the room. I didn't realise what was going until he opened the door to the pool room.
"No, please. Don't make me hang here again. Please don't. I promise to be good. I swear." I begged. He rolled his eyes again.
"Shut up, my rose. Let me tell you what you are going to do, before you jump to conclusions." He said, but I could already hardly hear him. I was falling back, slipping into memories and nightmares of the day before.
"Please!" I cried out, panic setting in as he pulled me closer and closer to the water. Back in this room, with the hum of the pools heating, and the smell of the saltwater, I felt it all rushing back.
I saw the blackness as he hung me up, and pushed me out, completely unaware of where I was hanging. The feeling of my limbs failing me, my fingers slipping. Bracing for impact.
Then water. Filling my throat, endless water, death swimming on the edges of my vision.
Except reliving it, he didn't save me. He didn't care about me.
He let me drown. I died, but I didn't die. He let me stay there, constantly suffering, forever tortured and alone.
It was Gwen that pulled me out of the flashback, her voice that coaxed me back into reality.
"You're okay, Ophelia. You're safe. Come on, focus on me. You're going to be okay." She whispered.
I looked up at her, but she seemed far away, distant. "But the water... The water-"
I broke off, falling back into sobs. Gwen hushed me, stroking my hair out of my face, holding my cheek. "It's okay, the water can't hurt you. You're safe. Focus on me. Focus on my voice, Ophelia. I want you to breathe in, and out. In and out."
I followed her breathing, and gradually, the sobs ebbed away. I clenched my eyes shut, catching my breath, and she stroked my hair comfortingly. "That's the way, Ophelia. Just breathe. I'm right here. Okay?"
I shakily nodded, still focusing on my breathing. I felt her shift, and then heard her speak in a hushed voice.
"What the hell did you do to her, Blake?" She said. "I could hear her screaming from upstairs. You're lucky that Jackson was asleep and she didn't wake him up."
In my haze, I heard Blake scoff. "I didn't do anything to her, Iris. I just brought her in here and she started to freak out. You were down here before I could even try to help her."
She threw him a glare and pursed her lips. "Go. Leave her with me. You have work to do, don't you?"
Blake looked like he didn't want to do what Gwen said, but it seemed as though he didn't have much of a choice. He threw one last glance to me, and I sobbed and looked away. He let out an indignant murmur, then turned and stalked away.
Gwen watched him leave, then turned back to me, and gently kissed my forehead. In a murmur, she said to me, "Don't worry, Ophelia. You're safe now."
I clenched my eyes shut, and held back a sob.
You're safe now.
Something told me that was a complete lie.