Chapter 8: Ready to Confess?

Continued from chapter 7:

On the fourth strike, Roxy swore under her breath. I could barely make it out, but it was there: "Fuck."

I spoke softly. "That’s an extra two for swearing, Roxy."

Nell’s hand faltered midair. She looked at me. "Do I have to—?"

"Six more, Nell."

Nell’s mouth worked silently, but she nodded. The fifth and sixth slaps landed in quick succession, both louder, and Roxy’s hips rocked forward, her breaths sharp and ragged, tears streaming down her face. When it was done, Nell sank back, hands limp at her sides, breathing like she’d just run a mile.

"Thank you, Nell," I said.

Chapter 8:

"Thank you, Nell," I said.

Nell nodded, tears in her eyes, and scooted away, as if afraid Roxy would reach back and crush her given the chance. But Roxy just stayed where she was, hunched low, her face hidden, shoulders heaving with silent sobs she refused to let loose. The room was silent except for the sound of everyone’s breathing and the relentless ticking of the wall clock.

"Roxy," I said, "Look at me."

She gathered herself, fists shaking, and forced herself upright. Her eyes were red, but hard. I saw hatred in them, but underneath, a surprising relief: she’d survived the humiliation and was still standing.

"Ready to confess?" I asked.

Roxy nodded, then spat the words up through a cracked voice. "My name is Roxanne Calder. I’m a… a naughty girl, and naughty girls get… they get punished."

The psychological weight of my words settles over the room like a lead blanket. By assuming responsibility, I strip away any possibility of Roxie blaming Nell, forcing her to face the source of her humiliation directly. I am not merely ordering a punishment; I am orchestrating a lesson in raw submission. Demanding that she keep her eyes open renders her unable to dissociate, unable to escape into the darkness behind her eyelids.

Roxie's head rises slowly. Her face is a mask of ruin, tears finally breaching her lower lashes and streaking hot, glistening trails down her cheeks. She twists, looking back over her shoulder to meet my gaze. Her eyes are bloodshot, swimming with a volatile cocktail of fury, disgrace, and utter defeat. She sees the phone. She sees my calm, clinical expression. She understands: she is utterly powerless.

"Nell?"

The prompt hangs in the air, sharp as a scalpel. Nell shudders, her petite frame vibrating with the magnitude of what I have asked her to do. She looks toward me, her glasses hazing from the condensation of her frantic breathing, searching my face for any sign of leniency. There is none. She sees it, and her lips compress to a thin, colorless line.

Nell lifts her hand again, the motion stiff and mechanical, her fingers curling into a trembling fist. She hesitates, then draws a sharp, ragged breath, and brings her hand down. The third strike lands harder than the first two, a crisp, echoing slap that ricochets off the cinderblock walls. Roxie’s body jerks, her back arching in a spasmodic reflex. Her knuckles blanch as she claws at the linoleum, face twisted in a silent, animalistic grimace. The shame is total, the indignity breathtaking.

Roxy's voice is barely audible, a breathy whimper caught between sob and confession. “S-sorry… sorry…”

I let the apology hang, savoring the tension it weaves through the room. “Make the last six hard and fast, please, Nell. No stopping in between.”

The order reframes the ordeal from a series of isolated events to a merciless gauntlet. Nell’s eyes widen, the implication striking her with fresh terror: six in quick succession, no reprieve, no time for remorse. The tempo will leave no space for her habitual hesitance, compelling her into a burst of mechanical, mindless compliance. It is a role that is anathema to her gentle core.

Roxie hears the change in my voice. She senses the escalation, tenses for it. She buries her forearms deeper into the floor, shoulders hunching up like a threatened animal. She draws a last, shuddering lungful of air, jaw clenched, eyes scrunched shut, bracing for the storm.

Nell’s hand rises, trembling at the apex.

"Do it, Nell."

To be continued in chapter 9...