"Evening, ma'am," the man guarding the rustic, red door said through tight lips, his eyes staring straight somewhere over my head. "Mr. Dalton is waiting for you out back." He pointed to the door behind him with a stiff thumb.
"Thanks," I said quietly. The guard pushed the door open with a hand and stepped aside to let me through. With my heart pounding in my ears, head bowed and hands tightly curled into fists to suppress their shaking, I stepped over the threshold and entered the gym.
The door was pulled closed behind me, and the slam made every pair of eyes turn to me. Immediately, I felt exposed. The warm air was mixed with the smell of sweat and an odor I couldn't quiet place. I wanted to turn back around and walk out of there. Around twenty men were engaged in various activities all over the room, and in the center -- the boxing ring. To my left, two shirtless men wearing bulky boxing gloves were staring at me, the punching bag still moving slightly. Several were perched on top fitness equipments, their muscles shining with sweat.
And inside the boxing ring stood Victor Dalton, the man I was here for. He was wearing shorts and red gloves, and I nervously ran my eyes over his broad chest and shoulders. His torso was coated in a fine sheen of sweat, his muscles and abs glinting in the light. His chiseled jaw, covered in a light shadow of stubble, was tightly locked and his head was held high, his cool, indifferent gaze fixed on me. His thick, brown mop of hair was a little too long, a few strands stuck to his forehead with sweat. He didn't look like a man; He looked like a machine, with no sign of emotion or sympathy in his deep brown eyes. A whistle pierced the air, and I shifted my weight from one foot to other. "Who is this lovely little girl?" a voice followed the whistle.
In that moment, I had never hated my sister more. She had been in a relationship with Victor's younger brother, Max, and he had fallen for her but she had to be a bitch and sleep with his friend behind her boyfriend's back. It was all messed up and when she had told me, teary-eyed and embarrassed, that Max's older brother wanted revenge. And he wanted to punish me. It was sick, it was twisted, and Victor was a bastard. He wanted my sister to realize what it was like for their little sibling to suffer.
In my thin lace bralette and short skirt, I felt naked. Heat travelled up my breasts to my neck and face, and I shifted my gaze down to my bare feet. They had made me take my shoes off outside in the corridor before entering the gym. Victor pulled a thick rope out of his way to jump out of the ring to land on the ground in a lithe, quick movement. I watched his body twist and move, feeling like I couldn't pull air into my lungs. Everybody around us quieted once again, and I was almost sure that the loud pounds of my heart were audible even to the guys in the corner of the room.
Victor walked -- no, stalked -- toward me and I felt my body tremble with fear. I didn't want this. I hadn't wanted to wear this skimpy outfit and drive to this exclusive male club. I didn't want this. Tears pooled in my eyes and I took a step back, only for my back to meet the door. With every step he took and came closer, I felt trapped, helpless. I turned and my shaking hands gripped the door handle. But just as I was about to turn the knob, a large hand forced me forward against the door, pinning my body. I gasped as the knob dug painfully into my stomach, my breasts pushed hard against the rough wood of the door. The hand disappeared from my back for a moment, only for it to grip my skull, fisting my hair painfully so that the side of my face was pressed into the door.
From my eye, I saw Victor's face appear in my vision. There was a hint of cold amusement in the slight quirk of his full lips. His other hand gripped my hands in a lock behind my back, stretching my upper body.
"Trying to escape, are you?" He whispered tauntingly in my ear.
I squeezed my eyes shut, and a tear fell down to my cheek. He was squeezing my throat so much so that I couldn't breathe. A choked sound escaped me and I gasped, trying to hold onto any breath of air.
"L-Let me g-go, please," I gasped out, shaking. I moved my wrists in his hold for some moving space, but his grip only tightened. I yelped.
He chuckled. "I like the sounds you make, Ms. Brown." He squeezed my throat, cocking his head to the side. Stars danced in my vision. "Keep it up and I might go easy on you."
A guy I hadn't noticed was standing behind Victor, laughed and said, "Yeah, right. As if you could go easy on a woman."
Victor grinned wickedly, and said, "It's true. I can't. Its good if you expect me to go easy on you, though." He leaned into me, pulling my head back by my hair, sending a searing pain through my skull. Then, as if he was telling me a secret, he continued in a whisper, "It intensifies the element of surprise. I assure you, Ms. Brown, you won't be getting out of here without every inch of your body either fucked, bruised or filled. Now, you may expect what you wish."
I was frightened, and I was afraid but unmistakably, heat pooled low in my belly. The pulse in my clit was throbbing, almost to the point of pain. My body zinged with thrill and desire, mixed with the catalyst of fear.
All of a sudden, I was released. I crashed to the floor in relief, gulping mouthfuls of air, my chest heaving. He stood over me with his head tilted to the side while I struggled for air, a playful smile on his lips. Though much of an asshole he was, he possessed an alluring, almost obsolete beauty. It hurt to look at him.
After a few brief moments, his face hardened again and his eyes drifted down to my breasts. Moving lower to the exposed skin of my midrib, and to my upper thighs which were now exposed as my skirt had ridden up. With a shaky hand, I lowered it back into place.
He smirked, and I felt a shiver travel down my spine. One second, I was on the floor in front of him, and in the next, I was being picked up by two arms around my waist and deposited on a shoulder like a rag doll. Victor turned around and made his way back to the boxing ring, while I flailed my arms and legs.
"Put me down," I screamed, pounding on his back with my fists. The guys around us laughed as Victor strolled at his leisure pace to the ring. My skirt had ridden up again, and I felt the warm air hit my ass. I punched at his back harder.
He slapped my ass. "Stop doing that or this gets worse," he said in a threatening voice, but I sensed amusement in there too.
When we reached the ring, he tossed me inside through the gap between the ropes. I landed in a pile in the center on my back, blinking away the head rush.
