The lessons continue

You take a swig from the water bottle, then roll it across the floor. The wet and naked heroine picks it up, trying to be casual rather than ****, and takes a few careful sips.

You give her a few minutes to catch her breath and take a few more sips. Then you pull a protein bar out of your pocket and toss it over as well. “I think these taste like shit. But you could use something in your stomach.”

Diana does her best to ignore it, but you can literally hear her stomach growling. After a moment she picks up the bar, tears open the wrapper, and begins to eat. She doesn’t bother trying to cover her nudity, but she’s not trying to display herself for you either.

“So,” Diana says after a couple bites. “What happens now?”

“That is the question, isn’t it. I meant what I said in the restaurant. It’s obvious there’s a side of you that wants… no, needs to be dominated. And I feel it’s important you explore that.”

“Your concern for my sex life is noted.” Again with the deadpan sarcasm. “But I meant what I said that if I choose to explore those feelings it will be with someone I can trust.”

You acknowledge and dismiss her comment with a handwave. “OK, but here's the thing: indulging in the eroticism of giving up control, of being completely at someone else’s mercy, with someone you trust – kinda defeats the point.”

She takes another bite of the protein bar, “Perhaps, but…”

“Now, the first time I made you my captive, I didn’t really defeat you myself. I just took advantage of an opportunity.”

“If that’s what you wish to call it…”

“But this time I beat you fair and square, despite all your powers and your experience and your resources, and everything.”

She doesn’t agree but neither does she disagree. She polishes off the protein bar and takes another drink of water.

“You are my prisoner by right of combat. And as such, I claim the right to teach you the joy and pleasure of submission, of surrendering control to someone who has earned the privilege.”

Her expression says your argument makes more sense than she wishes it did, and she hates that it does.

“Thanks to the miracle of H.I.V.E. technology, we are free to delve into those desires fully, in complete privacy, without worrying about you breaking anything or having to rely on your lasso all the time.”

“So you’re really just doing all this for my benefit?” Diana says in a mocking tone. She makes a face like maybe the protein bar isn’t sitting well.

“Obviously there’s an element of self-interest on my end,” you say congenially. “But I genuinely believe that when we’ve finished our journey, you’re going to thank me.”

“I will never…” she starts, then stops and puts her hand to her stomach as it makes another audible gurgle. “I would…never…” Her face has turned green. “What…what did…”

Her words are cut off as she turns and vomits on the floor, barfing up not only the protein bar, but a stomach's worth of bile and what’s left of the previous night’s dinner.

“What…did…you…” she gasps in between retching.

“Ipecac. Used to induce vomiting in poison victims. I injected it into the power bar.”

“Wh…Why?”

You wait until she is able to meet your gaze: naked, hair wet and disheveled, vomit and saliva running down her chin. “Because I can,” you say firmly.

The sound of Wonder Woman dry-heaving follows you out of the room until the slamming door cuts the sound off.