Forced Submission

by Claire Thompson

  She backed out of the closet, her gun trained on him. Flicking out the light, she shut the door. She went back into Ellis’ bedroom and retrieved the nearly empty bottle of scotch and the glass he’d been using. She poured a shot’s worth into the glass and drank it in one gulp, wincing with pleasure as it burned down her throat and spread warmly through her chest.

  She really was exhausted. She couldn’t stand the idea of sleeping in the bedroom where Ellis was closeted, nor did she want to lie in his bed. She made her way instead to the guest bedroom at the end of the hall.

  As she passed the dungeon, the door slightly ajar, she shuddered. Then she envisioned Ellis strapped to the cross, or better yet, bent over, his head and wrists secured in the stocks, his legs spread wide, his bare ass exposed and waiting.

  She smiled.

  Chapter 16

  It was only four in the morning but Mia was wide awake. She went into the guest bathroom, used the toilet and washed her face. She looked at herself in the mirror, still deeply dismayed by her shaven head. She touched her scalp, running her fingers over the stubble. At least now it would be able to grow again. No more being tied to a chair in front of the sink while Sir—no, not Sir! While Ellis Fucking Hughes squirted shaving cream all over her head and scraped away her humanity with a razor, one stroke at a time.

  Her eyes traveled down her body and she lifted the T-shirt to stare at the gold rings that hung at her nipples. She pulled the T-shirt over her head and dropped it on the counter as she leaned closer to the mirror. Each ring was held in place by the ball screw. Though she had played with the rings when she had been locked for long periods of time in the cage, she had never dared to loosen the balls.

  Now she couldn’t wait to get the hated symbols of Sir’s “ownership” off her body. Leaning over the counter toward the mirror, she carefully twisted the ball screw on the left ring. When it was loose enough, she pushed the ring slowly out of the piercing, holding her breath all the while.

  She flung the bit of gold across the bathroom, not caring where it landed, and repeated the process with the second ring. She looked at herself again. There were still small holes on either side of each nipple, but she supposed they would close in time. She touched her cheek, shuddering at the recollection of his threat to brand her face. Thank god she’d managed to get away in time.

  “I will make you pay, Ellis Fucking Hughes,” she whispered to the mirror, almost frightened by the rage she saw in her face. Reaching for the T-shirt, she pulled it back over her head.

  Returning to the guest bedroom, she pulled open the bureau drawers, hoping to find some cast-off women’s clothing, or anything else that might be useful. The drawers were empty, save for a pretty silk scarf. She pulled it out and returned to the bathroom, Again facing the mirror, she tied the scarf around her bald head. Though she knew it was silly, this made her suddenly feel much better, and she smiled at her image in the mirror.

  She left the room and headed in the direction of her bedroom. No, not her bedroom. Nothing in this place was hers, and in a few short hours she would be gone. She stood just outside the closet door, listening. She heard nothing. She’d let the bastard sleep a while longer, if that’s what he was doing.

  After getting herself something to eat, Mia returned to the study. She opened her email to see if there was an update from the prince, but there was nothing. She opened Master E’s email account, surprised to see that Sub Girl had responded. Curious, she opened the email.

  To: MasterE@gmail.com

  From: SubGirl123456@yahoo.com

  What the hell is this? Some kind of a joke??!! If it is, I’m going to sue your ass. I already gave notice at my job and canceled the lease on my apartment. What the hell!!! Who are you really? What the hell is going on? Is this some kind of test? I don’t believe your crazy story. I bet you’re married and your wife busted your ass. You stupid loser. You’re probably not even as good looking as your picture. I bet that isn’t even you!! I bet you don’t have a Scarsdale mansion. I bet you live in some trailer park with your mother and you weigh three-hundred pounds. I bet that plane ticket you reserved for me is bogus too. Fuck you, Master E or whoever the hell you really are. I’m going to report you at Alt.com and BDSMPersonals.com as a poser and a creep. Don’t ever email me again.

  Mia smiled wryly. Mission accomplished regarding her would-be sister slave.

  A folder on the sidebar of Ellis’ email caught her eye: D/s Island Paradise. Her heart quickened and she clicked on the folder. A whole series of emails to and from Prince Kamau were saved there. Mia opened them one at a time, sickened with shame and fury as she read the lies and misinformation Ellis had told about her.

  Exiting out of the emails, she deleted the entire folder. Then she went into the trash folder and deleted it forever. She slammed the lid of the laptop closed, her hands curling around the machine, her arms aching to hurl it against the wall.

  But no, she told herself. Leave it for the cops. Let them find the emails sent by Master E to unsuspecting women, and the huge caches of non-consensual porn. Not that downloading porn was illegal, but it would help paint a picture of who the man really was. Who knew what else they’d find on his machine. Far be it from her to impede justice, she thought with a grim smile.

  Returning to the kitchen, she poured herself another cup of coffee. She opened the bakery box on the counter that contained the sweet rolls Ellis liked to eat for breakfast. How many mornings had she waited on her knees beside the table like a dog, hoping against hope Sir would bother to toss her a bite or two before the day’s torture would begin.

  She put a plump, sticky roll on a plate and carried it, along with the coffee mug, up the stairs. She entered the bedroom. Pulling open the punishment closet door, she turned on the light. Ellis jerked suddenly and lifted his head, smacking it against the top of the cage. He grunted in pain and cursed. “Damn it, let me out of here.”

  Mia noticed the water bottle she’d left for him the night before sitting on the floor beside the cage, filled with his urine. She had half a mind to dump the contents over him, or better yet, to make him drink it, but she hadn’t the stomach for it.

  Instead, as Ellis had done so many times to her, she dragged the stool from the corner of the closet and positioned it in front of the cage. “Morning, E. Did you sleep well?” She took a big bite of the sweet roll and chewed thoughtfully as she regarded him.

  “Let me out, M. I mean it.”

  “What did you call me?” She pulled the gun from her pocket and set it carefully on her lap. She took a sip of coffee and another bite of the roll as she watched the play of emotions move over his face—first the fury, then the fear, then the surrender. She set the coffee cup down on the ground and finished the roll, one hand curled protectively around the handgun. She licked her fingers, pleased to note him watching her intently, like a dog hoping to be tossed a bone.

  “I—I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I forgot, uh, Ms. Roberts. Please let me out. I can make it very worth your while, you know. I’m worth a lot of money. Millions. This has all just been an unfortunate misunderstanding. I thought you—”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Mia shouted, leaping up from the stool, which fell back against the floor with a clatter. She pointed the gun at his face. “How dare you? There was no misunderstanding, you bastard. You did what you did in cold blood, every bit of it calculated to destroy another person’s life. This isn’t a negotiation. I will tell you exactly what I expect of you and you will perform, to the letter. Or I’ll shoot your dick off and then blow your fucking head off. Are we very, very clear on this, E?”

  Ellis blanched, shrinking back in the cage. “Hey, calm down.” His tone was placating. “Let me out of here and let’s talk like sensible people—”

  “First rule,” Mia interrupted brusquely, “you will not speak unless asked a direct question. When you address me, you will always remember to call me Ms. Roberts. Failure to do so will result in punishment. Is that understood, E?”
<
br />   “This is—”

  “Is. That. Understood.” Mia took a step closer, the gun aimed at Ellis’ head. How easy it would be to just pull the trigger, and put them both out of Ellis’ misery. He deserved to die for what he had done to her.

  No, Mia. Stop. If you kill him, you become him.

  She knew at that moment, despite her rage, despite his crimes, she would not be the one to exact justice, at least not of such a permanent nature. She would, however, give the bastard a taste of his own medicine for the few hours she was forced to remain in his house. She held the gun steady and stared down at the man who only a day ago would have whipped her to shreds just for daring to meet his eye.

  Ellis swallowed hard, his lips bunching together as if he couldn’t force himself to form the words. A muscle was leaping in his jaw, but finally he muttered through clenched teeth, “Yes, Ms. Roberts.”

  “Good boy. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” No response. “Was it?”

  “No, Ms. Roberts.”

  Satisfied, Mia lowered the gun. She noticed Ellis was clutching his upper arm where the bullet had grazed him. “Let me see your wound,” she ordered.

  Ellis lowered his hand, which came away bloody. The skin was torn but not too deeply. She had suffered worse from the cane. She raised the gun again, pointing it in his direction. “I’m going to let you out of the cage, E. If you try anything, anything at all, I’ll shoot you, and this time I’ll shoot to kill. Do you promise to be a good boy, E?”

  When he didn’t immediately respond, Mia lifted her eyebrows and clicked off the safety.

  “Yes, Ms. Roberts,” Ellis replied in a rush.

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out the key ring. Keeping the gun trained on her prisoner, Mia slipped the tiny key into the slot and turned it, releasing the padlock. She pulled open the small gate and stood quickly, stepping back as Ellis shifted forward.

  “I will kill you,” she repeated, “if you make any sudden move. Crawl out slowly and keep your head down. You will not stand up. You will crawl out of the room and down the hall to the dungeon.”

  “My shoulder,” he began.

  “Shut up,” Mia snapped. “I didn’t ask you a question. You’re in pain? Too fucking bad, asshole. How about we pierce your dick with a needle, huh? Then I’ll cane you until you bleed and make you jerk off while I’m doing it. Then I’ll dunk your head in cold water and hold you under until you think you’re going to drown. Still want to talk about your little flesh wound, cocksucker?”

  Ellis wisely said nothing as he maneuvered his bulk out of the small cage, though if looks could kill, she would have fallen dead on the spot. He crawled slowly through the room, his fury and resentment radiating from him like a heat mirage. Mia walked behind him, her gun trained on the back of his head. She had meant what she said—if he made any sudden movement she wouldn’t hesitate to blow his brains out. A part of her almost wanted him to.

  Again she reminded herself: If you kill him, you become him.

  He moved slowly but steadily through the room and along the hall. He crawled to the center of the dungeon and twisted his head back to regard her. Mia waved the gun at him. “Stand up. Open the stocks and place your head and wrists in position.”

  “You can’t be serious,” the bastard had the nerve to utter.

  “As a heart attack,” Mia snapped. “Do it. Now.” Her finger actually quivered on the trigger. Ellis must have sensed she was that close to shooting him, because he pulled himself to his feet and moved toward the stocks where Mia had spent so many miserable, terrified hours.

  “Go on. Open them and get in position. If I have to tell you again I’ll shoot you in the ass.”

  Ellis lifted the heavy wooden bar and crouched awkwardly in the stocks, wincing in pain as the wound on his shoulder started to seep blood. Mia moved in front of him and lowered the top of the stocks over his neck and wrists, quickly sliding home the bolt that held the device closed.

  Her heart was beating a mile a minute and the adrenaline coursing through her body made her feel lightheaded and giddy. She had done it! He was in the stocks now, and he wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon.

  Without saying anything to him, she turned on her heel and left the room, eager to check for any word from Prince Kamau. When she logged on to her email, she was thrilled to see he had written.

  To: MiaRoberts845@gmail.com

  From: princekamau@dsisland.com

  Dearest Mia,

  We have secured a jet and await momentary takeoff. Arrangements are being made for a car to take us directly from your local airport to the address you gave me. I hope to be there within the next twenty-four hours. Please stay safe, dear girl. Zahara is eagerly awaiting your return.

  Yours in peace,

  Kamau

  Twenty-four hours. That should be plenty of time to execute the rest of her plan. Opening a Word document, she typed out the lines that had been running through her mind. She hit print and, as the words appeared on the paper, she closed the document without electing to save it.

  Taking the single sheet of paper, she returned to the dungeon. Ellis was on his knees in the stocks, his body curved in a posture of defeat. “Get up,” Mia commanded as she entered the room. “Feet flat, ass out.”

  She watched with satisfaction as Ellis struggled to his feet. Pulling a stool into his line of vision, she set the gun carefully down on top of the piece of paper she’d pulled from the printer. She went to the wardrobe and retrieved the purple whip Ellis called the stinger. Thrusting it in Ellis’ face, she barked, “You know what to do.”

  Fury sparked in Ellis’ eyes, but he bunched his mouth in imitation of a kiss and touched the whip handle with his lips. Mia jerked the whip away and went behind him. She struck him without warning, putting her entire arm and wrist into the motion. The strands of knotted rubber whipped across his muscular ass with a whooshing sound. Ellis yelped and tried to jerk away, but of course he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Mia struck him again and again, watching with horrified fascination as the welts rose in angry red lines over his ass and thighs. When her arm was tired, she stopped and returned to stand in front of him. Again she thrust the whip in his face. He was panting, his forehead and upper lip beaded with sweat. She waited until he again kissed the whip.

  “What do you say, E?”

  “Thank you, Ms. Roberts.”

  “You’re welcome, cocksucker.”

  Mia pulled the cell phone from her pocket. “Now, here’s your next task. You’re going to read the words I’ve written out of you, word for word. And you better read it like you mean it. Do it well, and I might let you out of the stocks and give you something to eat. Fuck it up, even a little, and I’ll shove the biggest dildo I can find up your ass and tape your mouth and nose shut with duct tape. Got it, dickwad?”

  “Yes, Ms. Roberts.” Ellis sounded so miserable she almost felt sorry for him. Almost, but not quite.

  She opened the camera on his phone and selected video mode. She pulled the paper from beneath the gun and held it so he could read it, giving him a moment to scan the lines. His eyebrows knitted as he read the words, his mouth drawing down in a frown, his eyes flashing with fury.

  “Is there a problem?” Mia said, narrowing her eyes at him and then glancing pointedly at the gun and back at him.

  “No, Ms. Roberts.”

  “Good. I didn’t think so. Now, you’re going to read the words, and you’d better make me believe them. Okay, go.” She pushed the record button and held the phone in his direction.

  Ellis began to read in a wooden tone. “My name is Ellis Hughes. I am a sick pervert who kidnaps innocent women, holds them captive and terrorizes them. I have kept a woman for the past seven months as prisoner in my home, where I systematically beat, starved, tortured and terrified her into submission. I am a pig and a monster. I deserve to have my testicles—“

  He broke off suddenly, and roared, “Fuck you, Mia Roberts! Fuck you to hell and back.” Hi
s face was mottled with rage. “Shoot me, I don’t give a goddamn. I’m going to get out of here. And when I do, I’m going to fucking kill you!”

  Mia stopped recording and put the phone and the piece of paper in her pocket. She was shaking, his outburst snapping her suddenly out of whatever crazy trance of vindictive rage had taken her over since the night before. She stood staring at the man who had terrorized her for so long, stunned that even now in his helpless position he was threatening her. She could pick up that gun and shoot him, didn’t he understand that? She could put the gun in his mouth and gently pull the trigger, and his brains would splatter out the back of his head.

  Ellis started to cry. Mia stared at him in shock. How many thousands of tears had she shed at this monster’s hands? Yet she found that she took no pleasure in his tears. She just wanted to get away from him. She never wanted to see him again.

  She knew from experience he could survive in the stocks for many hours. How many hours had she spent on her knees as he was now, her wrists and neck aching in the wooden stocks, her skin smarting from a whipping, longing for a drink of water, all her tears long since cried away?

  It was deeply disconcerting to watch the man who had levied such a thorough and constant reign of terror over her for so long now reduced to a sniveling boy. Though a part of her wanted to let him out of the stocks, she didn’t dare let him go, certain he would follow through on his promise to kill her. Instead she left him where he was, still crying.