Pumping Iron – Secret Gym Sessions: Part Three

Samantha’s eyes fluttered open, the world coming into focus with the leisure of a lazy Sunday morning. The warmth surrounding her was like a cocoon, something fuzzy and cozy that she didn’t recognize immediately. Her mind felt groggy, as if it were fighting its way through a fog of confusion. It took a moment for the memories to come crashing down like a wave of ice-cold reality. Her body felt sore in places she didn’t expect, and the strong smell of lavander, the scent of Rea’s favorite soap was present, a grim reminder of the twisted events that had unfolded at The Temple.

The room she found herself in was a stark contrast to the sterile gym locker she had blacked out in. The walls were dark, maybe black, which were adorned with velvet curtains and posters of someone’s favorite emo bands. The floor was lined with plush, black shag carpet that seemed to absorb the darkness around her, and the bed she lay on was covered in a patchwork of black and red sheets. The only source of light was a string of fairy lights that snaked around the canopy, casting a soft glow over the room and highlighting the cute, emo-styled stuffed animals that lined the shelves.

Her body felt heavy, as if she had been drugged, and her mind raced to piece together the events that had brought her here. The last thing she remembered was the crushing pain of Rea’s cock in her ass, the feel of Jake’s hand around her throat, and the sound of their dark laughter echoing in her ears. She tried to sit up, but her muscles protested, and she fell back with a gasp.

Her eyes darted to the side, and that’s when she saw it—a rope with an adjustable leather and steel cuff, tied neatly to the bedpost. She followed the line with her gaze, her heart racing as she realized that each of the other three posts had a similar setup, the ropes trailing along the bed like the arms of a spider waiting to ensnare its prey. The sight was terrifying as she remembered what happened to her.

The bed beneath her was massive, a four-poster monstrosity that looked like it had been plucked from the pages of a gothic novel. The mattress was soft, almost too soft, like it might swallow her whole. She reached out tentatively to touch the rope, her hand trembling. It was cold and unforgiving, a stark contrast to the warmth of the blanket that enveloped her.

Her eyes looked down at the blanket wrapped around her, the fabric a curious blend of red and black faux fur on one side and rich red and black checkered velvet on the other. The material was thick and lush, the fur side soft and comforting against her skin, the velvet cool and smooth. The sides were a bizarre contrast, but somehow it suited the room’s morbid decor. The fur side was fluffy and warm, the velvet side sleek and cold. The weight of the blanket was surprisingly comforting, and she wrapped it around her tighter.

Samantha slipped under the comforting blanket before the sound of voices and footsteps snapped her back into her fear. She recognized the muffled tones as Rea’s, and the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. She was in Rea’s room, and she had no idea how she had gotten there. The panic set in as she recalled the twisted games they had played with her in the shower, her body still aching from their brutal assault. She held her breath, hoping they wouldn’t notice she was awake.

The door to the room creaked open, and Rea’s silhouette filled the doorway, the light from the hallway casting a glow around her muscular frame. She looked over at Samantha, a smirk playing on her lips as she saw her eyes flutter open. “Look who’s up,” she said, her voice a low purr that sent a shiver down Samantha’s spine.

“Please,” Samantha croaked, her voice barely audible. “Don’t do this again. I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t… please.” Her eyes filled with tears, her voice trembling with fear. She didn’t know what she was apologizing for, but she felt a deep need to appease the monsters that had invaded her life.

Rea’s smirk grew wider, the shadows playing across her face making her look more sinister than ever. “Whatever we want, huh?” she said, her voice a low, taunting purr. “And what do you think we want, Sammy?”

“I, I don’t- please. Please don’t,” Samantha stuttered, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her eyes searched Rea’s face, looking for any sign of mercy. But all she found was a cold, calculating gaze that sent a shiver down her spine.

Rea’s smirk grew even wider at Samantha’s pleas, and she took a step closer to the bed. She sat down on the edge, the mattress shifting under her weight. Then, with a sudden and surprising gentleness, she reached out and pulled Samantha into a sitting position, nestling her into the curve of her body. Samantha felt Rea’s strong arms wrap around her, and she stiffened, unsure of what to do.

Rea’s hand began to move in soft, soothing circles on Samantha’s back, the touch almost comforting if not for the context. “Shh,” she whispered, “it’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you. Not right now, anyway.”

Samantha’s body was a battleground of emotions—fear, anger, confusion, and a strange, twisted sense of safety in Rea’s arms. She leaned into the embrace, feeling the warmth of Rea’s body against her own, the contrast between the softness of her breasts and the hardness of her muscular frame. The scent of Rea’s cologne filled her nostrils, a mix of sandalwood and something faintly metallic. It was the same scent that had filled the locker room earlier.

Rea’s fingers began to thread through Samantha’s hair, the touch so gentle it was almost hypnotic. She stroked and caressed, her nails lightly scraping against Samantha’s scalp. The sensation was soothing, a stark contrast to the pain and violation she had endured before blacking out. It was as if Rea had flipped a switch, transforming from a predator to a caretaker. Samantha’s breath hitched in her throat, the tears streaming down her face as she struggled to make sense of the situation.

With a trembling voice, she choked out the question that had been burning in her soul. “Why?” she sobbed, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Why did you do this to me, why did you….why did you rape me. Why did you AND jake rape me?”

Rea’s embrace tightened, her eyes filled with a mix of surprise and what looked like genuine concern. “Sammy,” she said softly, her voice a soothing balm on Samantha’s raw nerves. “It wasn’t like that. I…i saw you with those bitches that made my life hell all of these years..you- you were laughing, talking shit about me to them. I- I couln’t, I got so angry. So, so mad.” She stroked Samantha’s hair, her touch gentle yet firm.

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” Rea whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. “I know it was wrong, but I just couldn’t take it anymore. You were all I had, and you turned on me. It hurt so much.”

Samantha’s eyes filled with tears as she pushed against Rea’s chest, the pain and confusion in her voice raw. “But why? Why did you do it again. Why did you rape me again with Jake? What did I do to deserve this?”

“The first time i was so angry. The second time just because it felt so good to put you in our place. You always act like i’m between you and Jake. Like you want me gone. I wanted to show you how it felt to be used,” Rea spoke, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and regret. “But that’s not what I want, not really. I just…I just need to feel like I matter to you, like you see me.”

Rea’s words hit Samantha like a punch to the gut, leaving her gasping for air. She hadn’t realized the depth of Rea’s pain, the torment she had been carrying all this time. Her heart ached for her, and she felt the walls of anger she had built up crumbling away. Slowly, she relaxed into Rea’s embrace, allowing the warmth of her body to seep into her own cold, shivering form.

“You hurt me Rea.