I'm having a lot of fun with this story right now. I'm also hoping to update my other story within a couple of days.

But here is the next chapter of this one : )

Chapter 3: Strict Training

The next morning, Bruce knocked on my door just minutes after I had already woken up. The sky outside was still black since the sun had not even risen. "It's time to train," he answered shortly. "Hurry up, I have a busy schedule."

I didn't answer and quickly dressed in one of my new pairs of shorts and a t-shirt. When I got into the kitchen I saw Bruce was eating an energy bar and some fruit. "You should have some too," he said, indicating the bowl of fruit and box of energy bars.

I nodded, even though I was not hungry at all and tried to force food into me. I knew I would need energy to train to my best potential. After some food I followed Bruce into the cave. I was very excited for this.

"First we'll warm up with a run," he grunted, indicating a couple treadmills.

I nodded. I wasn't looking forward to this part, since it would be boring, but I wanted to increase my endurance. Bruce ran very fast for the entire time on the treadmill which only lasted thirty minutes, but I hadn't been able to run the entire time, even though I only went less than half the speed Bruce did. It was a little embarrassing. In the end Bruce had ran over ten miles, and I had only managed two.

"Don't look so upset, you are doing really well," Bruce encouraged. "It's time for strength training. "

Bruce's words startled me slightly, because I had thought I wasn't showing any expression at all. If Bruce was starting to be able to see my emotions I kept so carefully hidden, that probably wasn't a good thing. It meant I was getting sloppy and too easy to read. I firmly shut down all my emotions, and followed him to the other end of the room.

This was the hard part. Bruce gave me a weight that I could barely lift with the command to lift it over my head five times while he stood behind to spot. I knew complaints that I couldn't do it would be ignored, so I kept my doubts to myself. I managed to lift it once, but by then I was far too exhausted.

"This is all in the mind," Bruce said after watching me struggle. "I can tell you think you're done, but you're not. You've given it one-hundred percent, but now you need to bring out one-hundred percent more. Ignore you're body's natural protests and just do it now."

I took a deep breath, ignored the huge pain and lifted it again. It felt like my body was going to collapse. The pain was horrible as I lifted it. I had the weight halfway to my head the fourth time when my hands gave out and I dropped it. Bruce easily caught it before it hit me on the head.

"What are you going to do now?" he growled.

I had been taught by my parents enough to know the correct answer. I silently turned around and held my hands out for the weight.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you," Bruce said coolly, narrowing his eyes.

I allowed myself to glare back, and forced myself to speak. It wasn't worth trying to get away with being silent around him all the time. "I'm going to finish lifting it," I said firmly, convincing myself I could do it.

Bruce nodded his approval and handed me the weight. I took another deep breath and lifted. Knowing there was only one more to do I closed my eyes, pushed my mind passed the agony, and forced myself to lift it. I sighed and threw the weight to the ground.

Training didn't get any easier. After strengthening arms in all directions, Bruce gave me overly impossible exercises for my back, abdominals, and legs. Then we focused on power by punching until I couldn't lift my arms anymore, box jumps, and working with tight bands. During exercises that didn't need a spotter, Bruce would do his own with insane weights that I couldn't imagine anyone lifting. They were at least twenty times heavier with the ones I was working with.

When I didn't think I could move ever again, Bruce announced the next exercise was reflexes. This was fun, but I didn't think I was very good at dodging the high tech machine's laser which would sound an alarm each time it hit me. Bruce showed off his ability with this as well by turning the difficulty way up and perfectly escaping each ray.

"I think you are done with physical work for today, but I would like you to continue training your mind while I continue my training. There are all my mind and IQ exercises up on the computer, I would like you to try them."

This sounded like fun, and I didn't think I could possibly force my body to do anymore so I happily, and stiffly, moved to the computer. The games included memory tests, logic skills, and observation skills. It was a lot of fun for me and I was able to use a lot of the skills I had already acquired in my life's work of learning how to be sneaky.

Eventually Bruce came over to watch. I could feel his shock as he watched me do fairly well on the hardest level.

"Impressive," he muttered quietly.

I didn't respond verbally or physically. My first sensation was a sense of pride like I had never felt before. I had never been given a compliment. Then the excitement was replaced by suspicion. Did he only say that to make me feel good?

"Finish up, we should get some food to replenish our energy," Bruce said quietly as I finished a game with another near perfect score.

I only realized then just how hungry I was. The pain also hit me on my way upstairs. Bruce ended up carrying me to get to the kitchen within the hour. This only frustrated and annoyed me more.

"Master Bruce, I told you to not push her too hard," Alfred scolded as he put food on my plate.

"I told you I was going to work her to the ground so she would stop getting into trouble," Bruce said lightly, biting into his egg. "Now she should be too tired and sore to go sneaking around tonight."

I couldn't argue with him about this.

"Miss Jayden, you should take these to hopefully keep them from getting too sore," Alfred sighed, placing some pain killers by my plate.

I nodded quietly, swallowed them down with my juice, and proceeded to throw food in my mouth. I wasn't sure if I was ever going to fill up my hunger. I could not remember being able to eat that much in my life. But I actually liked this kind of pain in a way. I had caused it to myself and it would help me to protect myself better. I knew Bruce had won and was right that I would have no desire to get out of bed tonight and no time in the morning because of scheduled training. But ultimately I had won in the end by getting him to start training me.

In the following weeks Bruce and I worked out a schedule for me to train that would work with his usual schedule and my new school schedule. I was planning on participating in gymnastics that my school provided as one of its sports which would help me in my training. That meant I would be in school from eight to three each day, but on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays I would stay until five for gymnastics.

So each morning at 4am I would be woken up to train for over two hours so I would have enough time to shower and eat before going to school. If it was a gymnastics day Bruce had me focus more on endurance and speed, and a non gymnastics morning we would focus on strength. After days like this I would go to bed right after dinner and fall asleep by seven from my exhaustion. This was probably just the way Bruce wanted it. During the weekends I would rest, get caught up on school work I may have missed and let my body recover.

After a month of this I found I could only run a mile more than my first day training, and lift twenty pounds more. It wasn't enough for me. "I'm sick of this," I snapped one morning while struggling to bench press the seventy pounds I was given. I hadn't even been able to lift it once. I sat up and glared at Bruce. "I've been working so hard, and I barely have anything to show for it."

"Complaining about it isn't going to help you," he said with a glare of his own. "Improving your fitness and physical abilities is something that takes time and patience. You better learn to find some."

"No amount of patience is going to help me," I whined.

"I don't want to hear it," Bruce growled, beginning to sound like Batman. "Lay back down and lift this weight."

"Even if I do manage to lift it, it won't be anything near what you lift," I continued to complain.

"No it isn't. But your body is much smaller than mine, and I wouldn't ever expect you to lift even half the weight I do, since your body isn't even half my size. Muscle isn't just for offense either. With stronger muscle you give your body much better protection and defense, so think about that as you lift. And I'm only giving you one warning if you don't stop this whining and temper tantrum you won't like the result."

I wasn't convinced, but laid back and unsuccessfully tried to lift the weight. After ten minutes of this we continued my other lifting with similar success. In the end training was called off in low spirits that morning, and I was angry for the rest of the day. Unfortunately things didn't get much better for the rest of the week.

By the time Monday came around, I was still not in a good mood and very confident about my progress. "Enough of this," Bruce said in an icy voice. "I'm sick of hearing you whine. If you're not going to work for this training, then it's time to work on your pain tolerance, as well as help motivate you." Bruce began walking towards me.

"What are you saying?" I said slowly, struggling to hold my ground. I did not want to show fear, but it was very hard with a guy like Bruce standing and glowering in front of you.

"I think you know very well what I'm saying, as we've been in this position before. I know you are intelligent."

This time I did take a step back, and internally cursed myself. "That's not fair, you can't make a punishment a training tool as well. You don't have to do that, I'll try harder."

"Too late," he growled quietly.

I darted away from him, practicing the agility we had been working on in my weeks of training, and I was surprised how fast it did feel I could move. With my fear and gained incentive to get out of the way, I could see I really was getting better.

I had the feeling he was playing with me, since I knew very well I couldn't get away from Batman. But several times I was able to move away from each time Bruce came at me to grab me. Then he had me in his grasp a couple times and I was able to successfully use the escapes we had been practicing. There was no way in a million years I could actually escape this man if he had been actually trying his hardest.

I managed to jump away from him and do a newly learned backhand spring to get further away, only to jump backwards right into his arms. I struggled to use my best escape but he had me in an iron hold. "Now that I've gotten you to actually put some effort into your training, it is time for your further incentive," he growled.

"No," I cried. I calmed my body and tried to think. I remembered the most advanced escape we had been practicing, and began to push free.

Bruce simply changed his hold on me and carried me to the bench press. "Good try, but I'm the one who taught you that move, and I know how to counter it," he said calmly in the same low voice.

I continued to fight and struggle as he placed me over his lap and put me under his iron hold. It was then that I knew for sure Bruce had been letting me escape until now just to have me practice what we had been working on. "Now to end the whining problem," he said.

"Bruce, don't do this," I yelled just as his hand swatted hard. I quietly sucked in my breath and knew my new strategy had to be to remain as still and quiet as possible. I couldn't let him see how much he was getting to me.

The next few swats hit very hard though, and Bruce didn't seem to be holding back anymore than the last time I was in trouble. But it only took half a dozen swats for my resolve to break.

"Alright, Bruce. You win," I cried. "I'm sorry, I won't whine anymore." When he didn't stop or even slow down at all I tried again. "Please, I can't handle anymore! Stop!"

"You can and will handle every swat I decide to give you," he said calmly.

It was this statement that finally did me in. "Bruce please, no more," I fully begged, and then I broke down completely into tears. It was then that he finally stopped, and allowed me to cry out the fiery horrible pain.

"Now I'm expecting two hundred percent effort, or I will use this method of motivation again," he said firmly once I had calmed down. "I'm tired of the whining and the unsatisfactory effort you've been giving me."

I pushed myself to standing and glared at him. "You're cruel, you know that?" I snarled. So many emotions were once again coursing through me. I could be punched in the face and thrown across the room by my father and not make a sound or shed a tear. But after only a dozen swats from Bruce I turned to crying and begging? I only noticed once the spanking was over I hadn't actually been anywhere close to my pain threshold. It didn't make sense how this man could get so mch reaction out of me and make me feel so weak. At the moment I hated him and myself for it and at the same time felt grateful and relieved for once again opening up. It was too confusing. I finally looked away from his annoying face and laid on the bench with a wince. But I set my teeth and gave everything I had in me to lift the weight anyway.

"Dig deeper," Bruce commanded.

I took a huge breath and found more strength from somewhere and lifted the weight to a full extension and brought it down fairly slow.

"Good, now do four more," Bruce approved.

I held myself back from saying the nasty comment I wanted to say and obeyed. I couldn't deny Bruce's extreme methods weren't resulting in progress for me, but it still didn't mean I couldn't be annoyed with him. I took a deep breath, tried to ignore the excruciating pain in my arms and lifted the weight again.