Amelia opens her mouth indignantly, and I fold my arms and wait. A moment later, she thinks better of whatever she was going to say and picks up the weights again.
“Good girl. All right, you’re going to feel the burn, but that’s a good thing. We like it hot, here.”
Once she’s done with the lunges, I take her through bicep curls, tricep curls, and then a batch of burpees and jumping jacks. After those, Amelia is sweating and breathing hard and looks just about done in. Either she’s going to be too tired to be bratty, or she’s going to bust out into one hell of a tantrum any minute now, because I’m so not done with her yet.
“Assisted squats,” I tell her, pointing at the machine. “The bar goes across the tops of your shoulders, and you squat, letting the guides help you balance.
Amelia approaches it and scrunches her nose thoughtfully. “That doesn’t look so bad.”
I add weights to either side of the bar, and suddenly she’s not looking quite as confident. Or happy.
“Do you have to make everything so impossible?” she grumbles, stepping up to the bar and getting her shoulders beneath it. She does one squat on shaky legs, and then stands up.
“Again. And again. No, keep going, peaches. That’s it. Your left hip is popping out.” I grasp her firmly by the hips to hold her steady as she continues her squats. She’s a tidy little package. The heels of my hands are on the fleshy parts of her peachy butt, purely for instructional purposes, but a man would enjoy putting his hands on her for other reasons. I would enjoy it, for sure. First for a spanking, and then to hold her firm while I fuck her fast.
I don’t usually get so into my dom role at the gym. There’s just something about Amelia that I really like.
She gets through two sets of squats, and I let her rest for thirty seconds before telling her to do a third.
“No. No more.” She folds her arms and glares at me, red cheeked and puffing. “My legs are jelly. I’m exhausted.”
Oh, please. If she’s got the energy to glower, she’s got the energy to work out. “Are you using one of your safe words? Red alert for if you’re going to hurt yourself, black alert if you have,” I remind her.
“No. I’m not about to hurt myself. I just don’t want to do anymore.”
I force my features in seriousness, though on the inside I’m grinning. Time to see what this little brat is really made of. “Oh, have you? I decide when your workout is over, young lady. Not you.”
Amelia’s chin juts. “Excuse you, but I’m a grown woman and I have agency over my own body.”
“You forgot, ‘And I’m a brat.’”
She bridles at that, and her voice goes up in pitch. “I am not a brat! How dare you say such a thing? I’m sick of your stupid face and I’m sick of your dumb gym!”
My eyes narrow. She can stomp her foot and carry on all she likes, but she will not disrespect me, and she will not disrespect my gym.
I step closer, looming over her. “You don’t have the self-control to finish one sixty-minute workout when your employer and I have both requested that you do so. You’re a self-centered little brat who can’t see past the end of her nose.”
Her very cute, kissable little nose.
Damn, I need to stop thinking like that.
I dig a key out of my pocket and hold it out to her. “Hit the showers. I’m done with you.”
Amelia grabs the key out of my hand without a thank-you and storms off. I wait where I am, knowing she’ll be back in thirty seconds.
Back she comes, right on cue, holding out the key. “It won’t open the shower room door.”
“Yes, it will. That shower room.” I point to the sign that says Cold Shower Room. “Little brats who get mouthy cool off under icy showers.”
Amelia looks as indignant as if I’ve smacked her bare bottom. “That’s not fair,” she splutters.
I turn and walk back to my office before I tell her what I’d do to her if she really were my little brat. After her mouthiness, a spanking would be truly fair.
Twenty minutes later, I’m talking to Joshua on reception when Amelia emerges in her street clothes with her gym bag over her arm. She looks like a completely different girl to the brat I saw marching off to the showers. Her face is pale, and her eyes are big and anxious. She plays with the strap of her bag, glancing uncertainly at me.
Joshua starts to grin, but I give him a sharp shake of my head. Amelia is humiliated and she’s not into humiliation, so this experience has been painful for her.