༺ 𝙾𝚌𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎... ༻
༆𝙿𝙾𝚅: 𝚂𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚗༆
I patiently wait outside of the holy door holding the esteemed entrance and exit to Juliana's private hospital room, my back poised elegantly and my long curly hair truffling lazily around my face to form a brunette curtain around my forehead, eking around my apple cheeks. One of my hands are intensely occupied by my cell, as I finish up an important work thing, a certain client of mine demanding my lawful attention. "I'm here to see Juliana Odom?" noticing an interesting occurrence only several feet away from me, my head tilts up rather curiously at the mention of the infamous woman's name, a piqued intrest at who it could possibly be asking the very question.
"She's in that room just there." a woman sat compliantly behind a partially busy nurse's station speaks out an answer, and the recognisable face from just several nights ago notices me, leaning against the wall with a bored look plastered on my appearance. His angered nostrils flare at my known presence, a chuckle almost escaping my mouth at the action, which I personally find to be a strange sense of ridicule. Carrying his body across the way, Elijah points his strong, intense gaze in my direction as he walks, his journey of trail stopping just before my body.
You don't scare me...you're just a little boy in a man's trousers...go ahead, try and scare me, you know you'll fail...
"What are you doing here? Are you and your friend here to humiliate me again?" whilst I study his face closely, a look of amusement refuses to shift from my expression, mainly configured due to his passive-aggressive, childlike-vexed mood. If only he could see how ridiculous he looks...
"Do we need to?" his thin lips purse tightly against the surfaces of one another, sliding over each other despite their strained state, an unregulated anger lingering in his humanity, that I continue to enjoy to an unruly extent. Laughter control has always been one of my weakest attributes. "I just wanted my girlfriend to come home with me. Is that really that dreadful?"
I push my body away from the wall behind me, using my heel-clad left foot as a lever for the movement, and sauntering closely toward him, my electric posture of great dominance taking the main lead in our tiring conversation, that is still anticipated to become particularly tense. "And is that any excuse to try and drag a fully grown woman home by the arm like a toddler in an abusive manner?" by the offended look on his face, he seems to be getting fed up with my womanly outspokenness, and without another word, Elijah turns to his left and enters the room beside me, an unforeseen and unresolved conflict between the people inside more than likely about to begin occurring...
As I linger around the open doorway, waiting with such anticipation, I vividly hear the conversations being spoken from the inside, noises of seemingly confused voices travelling through the strong air which is thick with unmissable tension, directed toward my eagerly listening ears, keen to get wind of the tête-à-tête transpiring. "Elijah? Wh-what are you doing here?" a few footsteps make their way around the badly concealed patient room, towards where I'm unsure of, but it's clear the atmosphere is clouded with another sensation of rigidity. "I'm your boyfriend, Juliana. You didn't think to tell me you were in the goddamn hospital?"
When the irritable male originally began speaking the sentence everyone dreaded to hear, a small part of my hopeful soul believed he had improved the errors of his disregarding and uncaring ways, until I realise there's no obvious difference between the man from the club, and the one here now. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you were the one who told me my stomach pains meant nothing, and I probably ate too much at dinner. You lost the right to an opinion the second you slammed the door on me."
If there's anything I know about my lover, it's that Beatrix despises nothing more in the world than men who belittle women for their own egotistical empowerment, and I can't say that's something we don't massively share in common, amongst many other related things. I find increasingly agitating failure in attempting to not find an ounce of care at the sheer confidence growing within Juliana's spine, which is stronger than I thought. It seems as if Beatrix's 'fuck you' attitude has had quite the impression on her, and thankfully so. "Would you mind giving us a moment alone?"
I know Beatrix very well, inside out. Everything within her pulsing-with-range body is screaming at her to stay, for Juliana's emotional safety, and for the opportunity to attempt to deflate the situation, for the same exact reason...but it's not before long I hear the click clacking of her loudly executing heels exit the heavily armoured room, a sense of anger misting around her usually calmed aura. Instead of heading toward me, she approaches the occupied nurses station with an unrecognisable and unreadable yet divine shape on her contoured features, like a skilled woman on an important mission. "Someone keep an eye on Juliana Odom's room, I want a nurse checking on her every hour. And someone finally chase up the pharmacy about her pain meds, she's been waiting far too long for them." it would be a complete lie to say that seeing Beatrix in full work-mode doesn't cause a well-known certain flutter around my midriff area, her strong demanding tone of demeaning authority always able to set a burning fire within me without fail. "Of course, Dr. Prez, right away."
Just when I think she'll greet me with a lightly delivered kiss as a courtesy, my significant other proves me wrong and begins heading down a nearby corridor, edging me to follow her down the tunnel of a path to attempt to deescalate her rising anger, which is obviously displayed to me from her expression. I wrap a sturdy, unforgiving arm around her toned torso, slowing her down in her tracks and forcing her body to move at the same pace as my own. "You know it is rude to walk away from me like that, Trix." I whisper directly into her soft ear lobe, her head tilting the opposite way as my warm breath ghosts over her skin, brim-filled with a hint of promise...
For Beatrix's response, I'm met with a cold and hefty purse of her red lips, a strong sense of bitterness to match her irascibility over the previous events, which proved to have provoked her in certain ways. Her gaze stiffens on one exact thing as we walk, concentrating to avoid sharing its attention with anything other than the metaphorical abyss her eyes wander into. I find myself loosing every ounce of patience left in my being, having given her a stern warning and a more than generous opportunity to apologise for her wrongdoings...
Continuing our longstanding, resentful path, I notice an unoccupied doctor's on call room left unattended, which I indignantly barge into with a Herculean force, yanking Beatrix inside with me at my burly capture still existing on her waist. Her shock is notified to me by the loud yelp given as I spin her around and hold her firmly in place with the length of my body against hers, one arm above her head, pressed toughly against myself and the wall. She furiously struggles beneath me, wiggling in her constricted position, but I am in no hurry to allow her to escape. "Sloan! Let me go!"
"Act like a child, get treated like a child." my cold, harsh stare bores into her flared pupils, as if I'm about to strike...like a starved lion before it fiendishly hunts down it's pitiful prey... "I'm sorry for my behaviour, Sloan." at this point, I'd usually be considered a thankful woman that my significant other picked up on the sheer dominating anger radiating wildly from my soul...however, I'm finding myself feeling rather quizzical. "You're getting too attached to her, Beatrix."
Muttering miniature yet offensive words, an eye roll added to the motion of her petty, unforgivable attitude, Beatrix shows signs of utter brattiness...which she knows I'd rather witness the most gruesome thing on this planet occur than have to endure such a sentiment from her. My face despicably hardens, unable to tolerate the unalloyed misbehaviour displayed before my disapproving eyes. Twisting her body around to face the wall we were once fiercely pushed up against, I elevate her wrists to cross over one another, pushing her palms against the baby blue, dull-painted wall, holding them still with my pure thewiness.
My palm pats the curve beneath her back willingly, "Ass out." I whisper in a delicate yet husk fashion toward her open ear, resisting the urge to bite down on its delicate lobe. When she's delayed in carrying out the initial command, I realise that I am in no mood for her insubordination. Wrapping my arms to envelope around her wide hips, I pull her backwards, making sure her hands stay where they are, stationed on the wall, and readjusting her feet to edge a measly few inches backwards, as well as spreading further apart.
God, everytime she's in this position, ass stuck out, her head demurely dipped, I get so fucking wet...and so does she...
"Disobey me one more fucking time, and I'll leave the door wide open so your colleagues can see and hear exactly what happens to the Chief of Neurosurgery when she's been a naughty little brat for her dom..." without an ounce of care in my body, I feel around her midriff for the perfectly lined cusp of her obsidian tube skirt, which hugged her figure in every perfect way before I slide it down her long and smoothly trimmed legs. Her cute little shocked gasp adds to my fuelled god complex, especially when I brush aside her white coat to reveal her ass, protected by her dubiously lacy black panties. I oppressively bite on my red-coloured lower lip at the delectability I seem to have found, trying my hardest to refrain from easily slipping an unexpected finger inside of her cunt instead...
"Count." without wanting to give her any type of indication, my hand dives pitilessly onto her lace-clad bum, her entire body jolting at the prickly pain perceived, but no where near as stingy as it could be... "One..." her heavily-coquettish tone slowly erodes out of her indecipherable gape, a tone I recognise when she's at her most submissive. Resting my hand affluently on the next cheek I solely wish to penalise, I give her three disdainful yet invigorating pats before striking low again. The heels of her feet bump up due to the gravity I created on a higher up body part, and I notice her brunet painted nails digging into the wall opposite us.
"Two..." as I let my hand rest on the skin's facade once again, I begin delving the tips of my coffin-shaped nails into her skin, puncturing it marginally. "Two, what?" I can hear the cacophony of Beatrix's own wet tongue tripping over itself, her words cordially stuttered. "T-Two, ma'am..." I feel a human body stroll over my grave at the thrill and respectability the superior nickname given to me by my submissive lover admits to my oscillating veins, assiduously fuelling my vehement domination.
"One more. Stay completely still. Got it?" her response is given as a priggish yet swift nod, an irresistible whimper added on. As if leaning into the touch, Beatrix arches her back deliberately, her prominent backside, beseeching me to deliver the penultimate part of her well-earnt chastisement.
I perfectly acquiesce my arm to swing into her flesh, this time channeled to the area coated around the tops of her thighs. Instead of a slight miserere, a mere choked gasp, or even a noise of pain given as her usual reaction, this time, a strong yet subtle shriek is begrudgingly pushed out of her mouth, one that I'm eminently confident has been facilely heard by any lingering souls stood outside of the nearby door, listening in as two women use their precious on-call room for something a little less medically inclined...
"Three, tha-that's three, ma'am..." I situate her body so it is facing mine, and I bend down to lift up her ebony tube skirt, so it smoothes over her relevant areas once again to fit the clothing item around her waist once again, the action usually comforting to my submissive after a selectively given castigation, such as this. I step forward after tugging it up, holding her hips lightly in my palms to keep her body placed wherever I wish. "What do you have to say?" I say, expectantly.
"I'm sorry for my behaviour, Sloan...it won't happen again." I grin in triumph as I've reclaimed my submissive, obedient girl once again, a forgiving aroma surrounding us. Most likely thinking about her painful punishment, Beatrix grinds her sorely wounded bum with the centres of her palms, circling her curves to soothe the tingles of tenderness felt within them. "That's my good girl. Now then, are you going to tell me what that was about?"
Gently averting my body, she sashays to the side and forward a few measly steps, tolerating her arms to tightly orbit her chest, an impenetrable bond proving difficult to break. "He infuriates me so much, Sloan...Juliana deserves much better than that..." I stride toward my other half from behind, bounding my long and strenuous arms around her curvy waist to pull her body closer to my more ample one, desiring a nigher connection. Pecking a small kiss to the smooth skin barely just below her ear lobe in an endeavour to install some calmness into her being, she slopes narrowly backward into the inviting, homely embrace I've created for her, counted as a form of aftercare following her lesson in politeness. "I know, my sweet...but it's not our place to intervene."
"The way she fearfully clams up when he's around...I can't help but wonder what happens behind closed doors though, my love...what is Elijah really like?" Beatrix has always been an exceptionally beautiful contradiction, in mine and a fair few others' minds...a contrast of intimidation and a naturally installed caretaking attitude making the seamless base of her impeccable persona. She has a beautiful soul - one that I'm eternally grateful that is mine to cherish and hold with all my sense of earnestness. "There's an obvious fear there of what the future holds for her...and I have to say, I share it with her to my wits end."
"Trix, remember, she has our number. This won't be the last time we hear from Juliana...and if the way she was shivering at our appearances suggests anything, it's that she doesn't want it to be either..." twisting her body around, Beatrix delicately places her hands on my shoulders, her face only inches away from my own. "I just wish I could help." after eyeing her sweet lips, I peck them lovingly, "She will be fine, Trix...I promise..."
a/n: Thank you for reading, my loves.
Elijah's back, and he's not happy with his girlfriends newly found attitude...when he finds the source of the problem, how long until he destroys it, if he can?