… solipsubmissive …

This is a continuation; you might wish to follow this link to the beginning:  Part 1 

 Stephen unlocked and opened the door, then entered and held it open for the two men who followed.  The men carried a bucket filled with steaming water, cleaning supplies, cloths and a ladder.  The acrid scent of ammonia wafted from the bucket, assaulting Elizabeth’s nose with its clean, pungent aroma.  She stared, belligerently, at Stephen.

“Clean it up.” 

She ignored his words and simply sat, still staring.

“If you continue to behave like a child, I’ll be forced to punish you like one.”

Her eyes flicked to the paddle in his hand, then lifted, scornful, to his.  Stephen sighed and felt a twinge of regret.  He opened his mouth, intending to explain how he would punish her, but she spoke before he could.  “Release me,” she commanded.

Stephen chuckled, amused by her imperious tone.  “No,” he said.  His lips formed the word definitively.  Her chin lifted regally, and it was all he could do not to laugh out loud.  “Come here, Elizabeth.”  When she, again, ignored him, he began walking toward her.

Elizabeth scrambled backwards across the bed, trying to put it between them, clutching the towel so she wouldn’t lose it.  He stopped, glanced at the two men, and jerked his head at the door.  Without a word, they left.  When it clicked shut, he headed, once more, in her direction.

She shrank back until she came upon the wall.  Still, she continued to move away, following the wall as he inexorably advanced.  She reached the corner just as he was an arm’s length away.  When he reached for her, she erupted, fighting like a wildcat.  The towel fell, unnoticed, to the floor.

Caught off guard, Stephen didn’t manage to control her, didn’t get his arms around her before she’d raked her nails down the side of his face.  He gripped her arms, transferred both of her wrists to one hand and dragged her up against him.  He carried her, wriggling and fighting the whole way, back to the bed.  “Stop it, Elizabeth,” he said, warningly, then grunted as her heel made contact with his shin.

Easily, he lifted her and deposited her, roughly, face down on the bed.  Her legs kicked a moment, then she tried to draw them up under her body, tried to gain enough leverage to escape his grasp, but she couldn’t manage it before he braced one leg behind both of hers, pinning her lower body to the bed.

He jerked her hands, still held tightly together in his left hand, well above her head and brought the paddle crashing down on her ass three times in rapid succession.  He waited, then said, menacingly, “You will clean up this mess, Elizabeth.”

“No!” she flung back at him.

Patiently, he paddled her again.  Five strokes this time.  He was rewarded by a sob, ripped inadvertently from her throat.  He stopped, waited.  “Had enough?”

Elizabeth turned her face to the side, away from him, and refused to answer again.  Stephen lifted the paddle, and let it fall, hard and rhythmic, on her rapidly reddening flesh.  On the fifth stroke, she finally couldn’t take anymore.  “Stop!” she cried, then subsided, her slim body wracked with sobs of abject humiliation and pain.

Stephen remained motionless, but relaxed his grip on her wrists a little.  When her shoulders finally stopped shaking with the force of her tears, he lifted his leg from hers.  “Clean up the mess,” he said.

Elizabeth gingerly raised her upper body on trembling arms.  She slid from the bed, her eyes downcast, avoiding looking at him as she went toward the cleaning supplies.  Sniffling, she dipped a cloth into the warm water, wrung it out and dragged the ladder over to the first camera, climbing up and beginning the task.

Stephen watched her, expressionless.  He didn’t say a word while she moved from the first camera to the second, and Elizabeth didn’t look toward him.  When she finished, he knocked on the door.  A moment later, it opened, and the same two men returned.  As they retrieved the supplies, Elizabeth walked to the bed, pulled down the covers and slipped between the sheets.  She waited until she heard the door close, then gave in to the sobs.  When there were no tears left, she fell asleep.

From the control room, Stephen turned off the lights.

Part 6