Elena gets a crash course in gymnastics-sort of

Elena shivers by the bath, cleansed of the remnants of her stay in the dark room she’s called home for twenty-four hours. It’s obvious her captors have something planned for her, yet questions still swirl in her head. What exactly will happen to her? How will she get out of this?

She thinks of the burly men and what Jess told her. Whatever she’s gotten herself into is bigger than she imagined. Big enough for the powers that be to **** her and whisk her away without attracting so much as an eyebrow from the authorities. But how exactly does her boss fit into it? Donna? It’s like there are pieces of a puzzle lying around, but she doesn’t know which fits.

Her heart burns with anger at her boss for betraying her. The woman she trusted to take care of and look after her, and she turns her over to the people who care for her the least. Not so much as a handshake with Alex. Just passes out and wakes up in some subterranean hell. It’s as though her life is forfeit.

It could have been worse. She’d expected Donna to be rough. Real **** stuff, the kind one hears about in dramas and police shows. Yet Donna’s caresses were gentle. They weren’t invited. But they were kind, and Elena saw a side of her captor that was anything but the Saw-type killers she’d grown accustomed to hearing about.

That doesn’t make Donna her friend, or anyone else. So long as she’s here, Elena’s at the mercy of anyone and everyone. Even as she looks over her shoulder at the sleeping Jess, she remembers the cautionary lesson she received minutes ago. She feels guilty for cutting Donna some slack, as though she was somehow less culpable.

Mistress Katye, that’s what Donna called the Judas who sold Elena out. From what little she knows from peeking at one too many of her ex-boyfriend’s porn stash, she knows that means that the visit wasn’t her choosing. She walked in there for a reason. Why she wasn’t more forceful, no one will know.

Jess rouses from her sleep and glances at Elena’s shivering form.

“Still bathing?”

“Huh?”

“I said, are you still bathing?”

“No.” Elena shakes her head.

“Come over here.” Jess motions toward the young woman. “Don’t want you to get sick on us, do we?”

“I’m fine.” Elena replies, remembering what happened when she took Jess at her word.

“Suit yourself. Just remember if you die, it ain’t on my account.”

Elena glances at her calloused feet.

“How do you handle it?”

“What?”

“The uncertainty.”

“You never get over it.” Jess shrugs. “You just learn to expect the unexpected.”
Footsteps reverberate in the distance.

“Sounds like they’re coming for you.”

Elena’s stomach tightens.

“I wish I didn’t have to go.”

“Tough luck.” Jess snorts. “Just remember what I taught you.”

As the footsteps get closer, Elena’s feet shake violently. She doesn’t care if she’s cold or that she might get sick. All she can think of is the men coming to take her Heaven knows where. She spies them walking toward her. She tries to run, but her legs give out. She’s simply too weak.

Jess and the others don’t even lift a finger in protest.

Her eyes flutter as she’s sedated. A burlap sack is placed over her head as she’s bound and escorted. Her thoughts are muddled. Yet she still has the image of the four captives in her mind. The four who never protected her.

She comes to on a hard mat, groaning awake. Natural light illuminates the entire place. She shields herself from the blinding light. Gradually she notices a balance beam in the foreground, even parallel bars. A small gymnastics studio. The room must be at least the size of a kitchen. It’s not exactly her thing, but at least it’s warm.
Elena glances down to notice herself wearing black spandex tights, covering her except for her bare sex and her exposed breasts. Elena winces in pain. She discovers something else, humming inside her quietly.

A muffled moan escapes her.

The electric **** is back. And so is the gag.

A figure steps into the light, his pock marked face speaking of years spent getting into trouble. The light streaming in behind his broad shoulders makes him look more impressive than he is. Yet he’s no hero, not by a long shot.

“I am Bela, your trainer for today.”

“Mppppph?”

“Fool!” Bela laughs. “You know you can’t talk!”

A shock ripples through her body as he depresses a button on the small remote control in his hand, sending her sprawling on the floor. She shoots a wounded look at him, pleading with her eyes for him to stop.

“Don’t give me that look! I’m not Prince Charming you bitch!”

Elena struggles to get up, her legs shaking all the while. Her predicament is made all the more harder by the waves of pleasure from between her legs. Bela laughs at her unsteady gait.

“Like my invention? It’s a combination dildo-Taser I like to call the Dazer. I’ve already filed a patent but no one’s biting at the moment.”

Elena dashes for the nearest door, attempting to escape. She can only imagine the shock of the pedestrians as she streaks by. But she doesn’t care. All she wants is to escape. She pulls on the door, but alas, it doesn’t budge. She tries several others, **** to put room between him and her.

Her luck isn’t good.

Bela pulls her out of a supply room, gripping her arm tightly. He guides her toward the bars, smirking at her.

“My masters pay me well to make sure their slaves are up to their highest standards. I’ve thought of everything. So don’t even try.”

She whimpers.

“Know how to do calisthenics?”

She shakes her head.

“Doesn’t matter. Stretch your legs.”

Elena blushes at the command. Yet she knows what the price of disobedience will be. As she complies, Bela gets a prized view of her snatch from behind. He has half a mind to stroke out to it, but work is work. He runs his eyes over her waifish body, appreciating the freckles on her back and bottom.

“You’re different than the other girls I’ve had, but whatever. Now shift your weight on your foot No, not that one, the other one!”

Another shock jolts her body. The sensation jars Elena into a state of alertness. She steadies herself with her free hand, gripping the parallel bar tightly as she struggles to stay on her feet. Bela enjoys the show. It’s not every day he gets to torment a fresh fish like this.

“NOW you can do the other one!”

The process goes on for minutes, Bela shocking her each time she makes a mistake. He makes her work her legs, her arms, her back. The pain is inversely proportional to the pleasurable feelings in her head, brought on by the contraption in her valley. She almost welcomes the torment, yet she knows that would be akin to giving in to him.

She collapses, sprawled out on the mat. Her breathing is ragged. She aches to touch herself. But Bela stands over her, his stern face promising more punishment if she acquiesces to her wish.