After arriving back at home in Houston, the next few days for Stephanie and Mark were turbulent to say the least.
Stephanie, still upset that Mark assaulted her father, booked Shane in a match against the Rock, and was seemingly incapable of saying "I love you" to her, let her feelings be known about him in the worst possible way, and in return, Mark treated her as if she were a child.
Not only did they begin taking separate showers and baths from each other, but whenever they slept in bed together, Stephanie made sure to put plenty of distance between them. If Mark attempted to snuggle close to her, Steph would simply leave the bedroom all together, choosing to sleep elsewhere. When Stephanie cooked, she prepared just enough food for herself. She even went out of her way to feed Zeus and April, leaving Mark to prepare his meal himself, going against her newfound wifely duties.
There were long, awkward silences between them; Stephanie wouldn't even look at Mark sometimes, and their conversations only consisted of one or two words questions and answers, if Stephanie chose to answer at all.
When they chose to go to a grocery store, after Stephanie picked an argument about why they had to choose Mark's favorite grocery store, Stephanie had her hand clutched by Mark's unwillingly, his grasp of her hand almost bone crushing.
When she was pushing a cart along with their purchases inside, Mark, feeling Stephanie was taking too much time shopping, even resorted to swatting Stephanie on the behind, not in the least bit gently, the sound reverberating along the aisle, which caused for snickers among a group of men who happened to be on the same aisle, picking up snacks and such.
Once in the line to be checked out by a cashier, Stephanie snatched away from Mark's grip, once again, in front of plenty of patrons. Embarrassed that his wife was acting like this, once checked out, Mark whispered into Stephanie's ear that he forgotten something important, instructing her to go on to the truck without him.
Although Stephanie initially wanted to leave him in the shopping center alone, thinking maybe a cab ride home would teach him a lesson, after coming out to parking lot and realizing that his vehicle with his wife inside were both missing, she knew Mark would probably turn psychotic again, so she ultimately thought better of it.
When Mark did get back into the truck, however, Stephanie heard a package being ripped opened, and before she could react, Mark stuck a baby's pacifier in her mouth.
"Since you want to act like a baby, here you go."
Stephanie also found herself throwing things around in the house in a huff, her anger not subsiding at all in the days following the fallout from Monday Night Raw. Pillows, remote controls, dishes, whatever Stephanie could get her hands on almost, she felt she had justification enough to simply sling around, since Mark was seemingly throwing her feelings around, as well.
And with stark consciousness, Stephanie came to realize that frankly, for one of the very few times since she had been married to Mark, she really hated being in his company. She was hurt by him, and worst of all, even though he could see just how truly hurt she was, he wouldn't even acknowledge this. Mark was too stubborn with pride, and from what Stephanie had ascertained, everything was all about him.
It was Thursday now and Stephanie was still in a very foul mood.
Cleaning up in the kitchen in only a plain black t-shirt, short enough to show her white panties, while Mark was reading the morning newspaper nonchalantly over at the table at the breakfast nook, petting Zeus with his free hand, Stephanie, tired of having all of her emotions bottled up inside of her, found herself almost breaking the dishes as she was loading them into the dishwasher so roughly, mumbling to herself in a low growl.
Mark, finally reaching his limit with Stephanie, as well, not saying anything to her about her behavior before, other than the pacifier incident, moaned out, "Look, if you're going to do the shit, just do it, and if you're not, then don't, but don't be breaking my shit while you're trying to decide," Mark said as he lowered the paper down to the table, clearly agitated by Stephanie's attitude and total disregard for the things in their home.
Scoffing, Steph, throwing another dish into the dishwasher, turned around and looked at him, asking perturbed, "Oh, so these are your dishes now? I guess this is your dishwasher too, your kitchen, hell, your house. Just like I said, everything is just all about you, isn't it, Mark?"
Turning back around, loading the dishes into the dishwasher extra fast now, Stephanie heard Mark raise his voice and ask, "Woman, why the fuck are you acting like this? You still pissed off by what I did to your old man? That shit happened weeks ago! Get over it, Steph, I mean it!"
Stopping again, standing straight up, turning back around to face him, the island separating the two, Stephanie shouted, "You know what, Mark: go to hell! How dare you tell me to 'get over it'? You're not the boss of me! You don't tell me what to do! I'm not Ryan and you damn sure don't own me! If you want a slave, who does everything you want them to, go talk to her, go screw her, isn't that what you've been doing all along?"
Realizing he was about to say something he would surely regret in the near future, not usually policing himself, Mark closed his eyes and counted to ten mentally. Re-opening his eyes again, bright anger shining through them, he mumbled out, anger coursing his voice, not understanding how she could jump from being mad about Vince and Shane to accusing him of having sex with Saphirra, Mark let out slowly "Just what the fuck do you mean by that?"
Folding her arms up, tongue making movements within her cheek, Stephanie replied thoroughly, "Oh, I think it's pretty obvious about what I meant. You're having sex with her, or had sex with her. It's as clear as broad daylight! Mark, do you honestly think I'm just going to believe anything you tell me after what you've done to my brother and dad? I realize now that every single thing that you've ever told me was either for your own good, or was a complete lie, to make me think that you were this great person, that you were so noble, and guess what, Mark, you're not. So, I came to the conclusion: you had sex with her. Just like you had sex with those two skanky ass bimbos in the basement."
Standing up himself now, Zeus, sensing trouble was on the horizon, whined a bit, watching on as his master walked over to Stephanie around the island, who, for the second time, wasn't backing up from him. She had consciously chosen not to allow him to intimidate and mentally defeat her like he had done so many times before, so Stephanie, against her usually better judgment, stood her ground.
Getting nose to nose with Stephanie, Mark asked through gritted teeth, "So you went from accusing me to manipulating you to me fucking Saphirra? You think that after I told you out of my own damn mouth, that I didn't have had sex with her, that I had never, and would never touch her, you're going to basically call me a liar? Huh, is that if?"
Scoffing again, which turned into a wide smirk, one that only a McMahon could produce, Stephanie replied, "Yes! That's exactly what I think. Mark, do you really think I'm some sort of idiot? You think that I'm just going to believe that this girl, who is quite in fact, mad for you, fanatically loyal to you, let's not kid ourselves … you think that I believe that she just got this way without you having some sort of sexual relationship with her? Brainwashed my ass, Mark. Maybe she was just dickwashed, but certainly not brainwashed."
Sniffing, taking in everything that Stephanie was accusing him of, Mark looked down at Stephanie dangerously, causing Steph's stomach to tangle up in knots, but on the exterior, she was poised, positioned to finally get the truth out of Mark somehow.
She really hadn't fathomed that Mark may have had a sexual relationship with Ryan until the other night, when she was lying on the couch after their first night back home, and the thought casually rolled through her mind. She really hadn't thought much into it after the fact, but, in the heat of moment, it seemed like a very plausible notion to bring up, especially since now, all of the sudden, Ryan was no longer around to be her appointed babysitter.
Putting his hands on his hips, Mark asked very darkly, more darkly than any other time he had ever spoken to Stephanie, "So, that's what you think? You think this, right?"
Gulping a small amount, Stephanie nodded and looked straight into her husband's eyes, and answered, "Yes, Mark, that's exactly what I think, and I want to know the truth: did you or did you not have an affair with her?"
"I told you I didn't! Don't ask me that shit again!"
"Oh, now it's don't ask you that shit again? Why? Because you're guilty? Oh, and now you're giving me directions again. You want me to be a Ryan. You want me to your slave, don't you, just admit it! You want someone you can easily control! That's what you thought I was, a puppet, right?
Licking his lips slowly, then smiling with a heightened look of insanity splattered all across his face, Mark looked down at Stephanie again, laughing in a crazed, maniacal way, one that scared Stephanie to no end.
She was attempting to look resolved and in control of her emotions, but her facial expression couldn't help but to change at seeing her husband almost turn inside out.
Suddenly stopping himself from laughing, Mark answered quietly, "Since," rubbing the side of Stephanie's hair with his hand, causing Stephanie to shiver involuntarily, Mark continued. "Since, you think I want a slave, and that I want you, my precious wife, as a slave, since you obviously think that, since you want to know the truth, how about I just show you what you want."
Grabbing Stephanie by the arms without any sort of warning, Mark literally began dragging Stephanie out of the kitchen!
Protesting, Stephanie yelled out, "Mark, stop it! You're hurting my arm again," however all of her demands fell on deaf ears, because Mark simply kept dragging her out of the room, pulling her along into the hallway.
That's when Steph began putting a real fight, grabbing the corner of the walls, attempting to stop his near dragging of her, yelling, "Mark, stop it! I said stop it! Stop it! I mean it!"
Mark, however, improvised, and instead of merely dragging Stephanie along behind him, he simply lifted Stephanie up, arms locked firmly around her torso, continuing to carry her down the hallway, while Stephanie, in a panic, feeling she may have pushed Mark's buttons too far this time, kicked away in midair, attempting to grab ahold to anything, including a table in the hallway, which held a vase of flowers, knocking them both over, the vase shattering on the ground, glass and water flowing everywhere, hoping that would force Mark to put her down, but seemingly, it was no use, as Mark continued to carry her down the hallway.
Literally shifting a kicking and almost hysterical Stephanie to his side, with right arm still locked firmly around her body, Mark came to the closed door that lead downstairs into the basement. Opening it, Stephanie loudly protesting and kicking, flailed her arms, trying her damnedest to break Mark's hold of her, while Zeus and April, who were normally mortal enemies as far as Zeus was concerned, followed behind the chaos carefully, both whimpering at all the noise that was being created.
Re-locking his free arm back around Stephanie, Mark walked down the stairs with her, while she tried to put a halt to whatever journey they were going on, by attempting to stick her legs and arms out in the tight entranceway, but to no avail, because Mark carried her down into the basement, walked around with her effortlessly still, and surprisingly, opened the door to the theater room.
Placing Stephanie down in one of the leather seats, while she huffed and puffed from all the energy that she had lost struggling with him, with hair flying all about her face, Mark stuck his finger right into Stephanie's face and warned, "Don't move you ass out of that seat. You want the truth? You're going to get it."
As Mark walked off, Stephanie, breathing in and out heavily, watched as Mark went to the back of the room and turned the lights back off, the room going almost completely dark, however, the light from the TV suddenly illuminated the room, almost blinding Stephanie. Realizing Mark had a remote control in his hand, Stephanie watched on in anxiety, while Mark walked back up beside her, saying, "Sit back and get comfortable."
Watching on in high alert, Stephanie watched the screen as a shaky camera, with audible footsteps being heard, walked along inside a very dark room, even darker than the one she was sitting in right now, the slight breathing of whomever it was holding the camcorder faintly heard, as well.
The shakiness of the camera and the footsteps with it carried on for what seemed like forever to Steph, for at least another 25 seconds of nothing but darkness, which prompted Steph to squeak out, "Mark, what is this? What is this that you're showing me?"
"Shh. Watch along, Princess."
The walking then came to a cease at Stephanie presumed to be a door, a white hand reaching out to turn the doorknob.
That's when Steph noticed at the bottom left hand of the screen, the numbers "04-05-99" were colored in green.
Closing the door behind whomever had opened it, Steph heard the creaking of it, which reminded her of something out of a horror movie. Those eery sounding footsteps were heard again, this time, they sounded like they were going down a flight of wooden steps, or something very similar to them.
The hand came upon another door, and once whomever opened it, Steph immediately heard the whimpers of what she initially assumed was a puppy. As the figure continued to walk deeper into wherever they were, the whimpers began to sound more human-like now, very human-like now.
Although Stephanie still couldn't see anything on the screen, she heard that camera shaking more rapidly now. She heard a gulp of air being taken by someone, then the huffing and puffing of air that the person seemed to be taking in, and for a faint second or so, Steph could have sworn she heard the person's bones literally quaking with fear.
Ten more seconds or so must have passed when the lights to the room on the screen suddenly came on, and what Stephanie saw, what Stephanie watched, shook her to her very core.
In front of her very eyes, playing out right in front of her, was Ryan Shamrock. The old Ryan, the one with blonde hair, however this time, she didn't look like Ryan of old. She looked as if she had gone through hell and back, or as Stephanie was tentatively thinking, "Through Mark and back."
Ryan was crying, hiccuping, with pure terror shining brilliantly through her bright blue eyes, petrified, as her mascara had run all down her tear stained face. Her red lipstick was smudged around both cheeks, she was wearing a white shirt, which appeared to be stretched around the collar, maybe from someone pulling on her; it was dirty now, but still savable.
She also wore a pair of blue jeans that were a bit dirty, the bottom of her feet both dirty, as well. On her wrists and ankles, Stephanie, disgusted, vile almost rising out of her throat, realized that Ryan was being restrained by shackles, the metal restrictions only giving her about five inches of free space from wrist to wrist, from ankle to ankle, with a thin chainlink between either one of them, while a long, thick, heavy chain connected the chain between her wrists and the chain between her ankles, the clanking sounds as Ryan continued to shift in position from fear, almost enough to make Stephanie retch with revulsion.
Watching on in confusion, despair, and terror herself, Stephanie felt herself being pulled into Ryan's world so to speak, honestly feeling the tremors coming from Ryan's body rush through her own body.
Watching as Ryan stared closely as the figure neared closer and closer to her, she heard an almost blood curdling scream coming from the girl's voice before she even opened her mouth, Mark bending his six foot ten frame down to caress Ryan's jawline, similar to how he would do in the present, only this time, Ryan was horrified by his mere presence and touch.
"04-05-99". That was only one day after Ryan was sacrificed!" Stephanie thought to herself in fear.
"No, please," Ryan gulped out. "I want to go home … I want my brother … Mark … why? Please … I want, Kenny … I …"
As Ryan continued to beg and plead, desperately wanting to be set free from her peril situation, Stephanie watched as Mark stood back up, walked back up to the camera, picked it up, walked over to the light again, flipping it off, while Stephanie heard the glass jerking scream coming from Ryan's voice again, as the footsteps were heard leaving the room, the squeaky door closing emphatically behind Mark.
Turning her head to her husband, who was looking on with his both arms folded, seemingly unbothered, Stephanie whispered out, "Mark, I don't think I …"
"Shh…" Tipping the remote back to the screen, Stephanie looked on again, as the the date on the recording changed from "04-05-99" to "04-06-99".
Walking back through the dark and dense room, Steph heard the camera mount again, the light turning back on, infiltrating the space.
This time while Ryan was lying on the cold, dank looking floor, Steph noted that another large metal chain, which was impaled in the cinderblock wall behind her, was connected to the chain that rest between Ryan's ankles and wrists, almost making the girl completely immobile, the possibility of her going anywhere more than a few inches futile.
Squinting her eyes up from the sudden burst of light that entered the room, Ryan, somehow, with the weight of the restraints around her wrists, wiped her eyes to see Mark, once again before her, this time, he appeared to be sitting on some sort of stool.
And he didn't speak.
While Ryan looked visibly unnerved, panting rapidly, looking around in terror, afraid to say or do anything, not that there was much she could do, Mark, knowing he was in complete control, smirked at her. The air was thick and palpable between the two, neither one of them saying anything to each other.
Without warning, Mark brought his hand up, and Ryan immediately flinched, sensing he was going to strike her, but he didn't. Instead, Mark reached inside his jean pocket and pulled out a set of keys, holding them ever so lightly on a keyring. Jingling the keys for Ryan to see, the sounds of metal clinking against each other echoing throughout the small room. Dangling the keys back and forth in front of her, Stephanie, flustered, continued to look on, as Ryan's eyes followed the keys back and forth, back and forth, almost as if she were in a trance.
Attempting to lift her hands up and grab the keys, which were right in front of her, Ryan found herself not being able to reach them, the cold, heavy chain in the wall obviously reaching its limit. Chuckling low under his breath, Mark brought him and his stool in closer proximity to Ryan's body.
Dangling the keys in front of Ryan's face again, like a cat watches a ball of yarn sway back and forth in front of its face, Ryan, either consciously or unconsciously, Steph couldn't tell, reached out to grab the keys from Mark again, but laughing quite out loud this time, Mark stood up, kicking the stool all the way back to the other wall, while he merely looked down at Ryan, who was looking back up at him, unease plastered all over her usually gorgeous face, looking quite dirty and downtrodden now. Just like the first time, Mark walked back over to the camera, walked over to the light switch on the wall, and flipped it off, leaving Ryan in the room all alone once again, this time, only her soft cries could be heard as Mark left out of the room.
The timestamp on the camcorder now read "04-07-99", and once again, Mark was sitting on a brown, wooden stool, while the artificially chained Ryan, who wasn't wearing her regular clothing anymore, this time only wearing a plain white tank top and white panties, which were getting dirty from the ground beneath her, sat back first against the gray wall behind her.
Close enough to her that his black boot was resting almost against Ryan's knee, Mark, once again, took the liberties of dangling those keys in front of her face again. Looking on almost helplessly, Ryan watched along silently as Mark waved the keys back and forth in front of her mockingly. Slowly reaching her hand out, Ryan suddenly stopped, thinking better of it, and instead, brought her hand back down to her body.
Once again, Mark stood up, and instead of kicking the stool back to the wall, walking over to his camcorder, turning the lights to the room off, and leaving Ryan all alone again, Mark decided to walk over to the table that was resting the camcorder, picking up a small plate which held a lone sandwich, with lettuce, tomatoes, and ham stuffed between two slices of bread on top of it.
As Mark sat back down on the stool, Stephanie heard the distinct, yet very loud growl of Ryan's stomach, and from the look on the poor girl's face, it would seem as if she hadn't eaten in days, and with the way that Mark had her chained against her will, she wouldn't doubt that notion, either.
Bringing the plate almost to Ryan's face, Mark suddenly pulled away before Ryan could even reach out for it. He did this once more, twice more, over and over again, taunting the girl, and in Stephanie's mind, she knew, no one, not even Ryan, with all her faults, deserved this sort of mental abuse.
"No wonder she's crazy!"
Ryan, her hunger getting the best of her, reached her hand out in order to take the sandwich off the plate. And just like all the times before, Mark suddenly stood up to his full height, kicking the stool back to the wall, taking the plate with the sandwich and camcorder with him, while Ryan could be heard screaming out, "Nooooo! Please! Don't leave me! I'll do better! Don't …. !"
"04-08-99".
Mark walked back into the room, positioning the camera on the table, as usual, the lights on.
Ryan was sitting with her back to the wall again, her head slightly slumped, the sound of her hunger heard loudly throughout the room. Ryan, defeated, had the keys once again dangled precariously in front of her face, back and forth again, however this time, her face was facing the floor, so she couldn't see in what direction they were actually traveling in.
Murmuring out something inaudible, Mark lifted Ryan's head up with two fingers, her knotted blonde hair sticking all over her head, looking deep into her soul it seemed, all the while, dancing those damned keys in front of her face again, as Ryan began suddenly began following them, almost in a hypnotic like state. She didn't reach for them this time, either; instead she simply followed them with her eyes for another five minutes or so, nothing but keys jiggling and prancing in front of her face.
After Mark tired of them, the continued clinking of metal against metal actually making Stephanie a bit nauseous from the persisting sound, Mark brought another sandwich lying on a small plate to Ryan's face, wafting the smell of it under her nose. Again, instead of reaching out for it like she had done last time, this time, she simply scanned sandwich with feverishness, however, never allowing her body to overthink her actions. She kept her chained hands in front of her lap, never once breaking her concentration.
After toying with Ryan for another two minutes or so, Mark suddenly stopped rocking the plate back and forth in front of her face, instead, holding it steady in front of her face, merely holding the plate by his fingertips.
Nodding his head once, Ryan, with shaky hands, reached out and lightly plucked the sandwich off of the plate. Holding it in her hands for a moment before she took a bite, Ryan took a chance of looking up at Mark, attempting to read his expression, which was majority of the time, void of all human emotion.
Nodding his head again, Ryan slowly bit into it, more than likely, tasting the first morsel of food that she had probably eaten in days. Devouring the sandwich in mere seconds, Mark handed Ryan a bottle of spring water, the girl gulping it down with ease just as well. More than likely still famished, Ryan looked back up at Mark again, while he, with a very underhanded crook of his lips, loomed over the girl with his eyes, stroking the side of her face, still smiling at her wryly.
The video now faded to "04-13-99", a Tuesday.
The room was barely lit now. Ryan was kneeling in the middle of it, unchained this time, head lowered, hands slightly open, but nonetheless, down to her sides, legs spread slightly apart, wearing a ratty old t-shirt, a dirty pair of blue jeans, the bottom of her feet black from dirt, her hair looking as if it hadn't been washed in weeks.
Steph felt the pit of her stomach grow uneasy with sickness, as Mark, with no shirt on, wearing a loose pair of black sweatpants, his hair flying all over his back and shoulders, walked around the frightened girl in a circle, Ryan shaking and twitching with fear, the sounds of Mark's boots tapping down on the floor as he he walked around her, over and over again, arms folded behind his back, the sounds of the sole of his boots meeting concrete time after time deathly irritating for Stephanie, maddening for Ryan.
Steph tried to look into Ryan's face, to read her thoughts, but with her head downcast, she couldn't really tell, her body language however, did tell Stephanie one thing: Mark was breaking this poor girl. Sitting back down on the brown stool again, adjacent to Ryan's body, for the first time this episode, Mark spoke to her.
"Why are you like this?" Mark asked, his voice just as cool as ice. In no way, shape, nor form did he even sound in the least bit upset or downright angry with her, despite Ryan's demeanor suggesting otherwise, but Steph could tell, Ryan was in trouble, and she was in big trouble. Breathing heavy, her entire body seemed to be quivering, when Ryan spoke, her voice reflected that of a broken woman, as well.
"M-M-Mas-Master?" As Ryan murmured that out, Steph noticed that a deep red blush was traveling down her neck to Ryan's chest, suggesting she was embarrassed by her situation, and who could blame her?
"Why are you like this? Why are you here? Why are you here, kneeling before me?"
"I'm s-sorry …"
"Did I ask if you were sorry?"
"No."
"Then why'd you say you were sorry then?"
Silence. Ryan said nothing. She simply shook her downtrodden head, consciously realizing that she had made another mistake.
"Again. Why are you here?"
"Because you are … you're disappointed in me," Ryan whispered out lightly.
"Mmm hmm. And why am I disappointed in you?"
"Because of what I did when I got to the arena," Ryan said softly, whispering still.
"And what did you do at the arena?"
"I began crying and my brother … I …" Stephanie could tell Ryan was still struggling within herself. She obviously missed Kenny. The moment Ryan had even said his name, her voice began cracking, then trailing off. Mark was purposely keeping her away from her brother, just like he had done with her.
"What about your brother?"
"I missed him and I began crying in the boiler room. I embraced him. I helped him to find me with Mick."
"And what else did you do?"
"I questioned your judgement."
"Mmm. And did I like that?"
"No, Master."
"And why didn't I like that?"
"Because my world no longer involves Kenny."
"And who does your world revolve around now, girl?"
"You Master, and pleasing you, sir."
"So whose fault was it that Kenny had what happened to him?"
"Mines, sir.
"Why are you trembling?"
"Because I'm afraid, Master."
"Why are you afraid?"
"Because I know you are upset with me, Master?"
"Do you deserve to be punished?"
Nodding, whimpering, Ryan, almost breathlessly, cried out, "Yes, Master."
"And why will you being punished? What did you do?"
"I disappointed you by embracing others beside you, sir."
"And what should your punishment be now that you have disappointed me?"
"No, food?" Ryan half asked, half stated.
"Mmm hmm. And what else?"
"A spanking," Ryan said most definitely, so low, however that the words barely resonated with Stephanie, who was squirming and twitching in the leather seat herself, suddenly uncomfortable.
For one, Stephanie remembered the first … and hopefully … the only time Mark had given her a spanking, and it definitely wasn't fun. She could only imagine what Mark was going to do to Ryan, whom he absolutely had no allegiance or emotional attachment to. When Stephanie received her spanking, she was Mark's wife, but Ryan was just another servant to him; he could literally do anything he wanted to do with her!
Looking over at him for a moment, Stephanie realized that Mark was staring back at her, his eyes blacker than the depth of his unnatural soul. Looking back at the screen, Stephanie paid close attention as Mark reached his hand out to Ryan, taking her hand into his, lifting the girl from the floor. With her eyes still cast to the floor, Mark brought his fingers to Ryan's jeans fastening, unbuttoning and unzipping her pants, ordering her to step out of them once they fell past her knees.
Stepping out of them, revealing the lower half of her body, wearing a bare pair of brief panties, Mark took Ryan's hand and slightly pulled her over his lap, Ryan not daring to put up a fight, as the reddening of her skin had now found itself all over her cheeks and arms.
With his forearm pressed slightly into her back, Stephanie suddenly heard the sounds of Ryan's sobs, her body going into spasms now, from the mere paralyzing thought on having to wait in order to be spanked. Mark then leaned over on the side of the stool and brought up a thick, black leather belt, Stephanie's stomach doing acrobatics now, in complete shock that Mark was actually going to use a belt in order to discipline Ryan!
No, they weren't friends in the least, but Stephanie could still feel empathy and compassion for another woman's plight, especially her's at the present. No one deserved what she was about to receive … but she didn't say anything in protest, and neither did Ryan.
"You are never going to disobey me again, understand? You have had more than a few chances to govern your own behavior accordingly, in order to live up to my expectations, and you've failed. From this moment forward, you won't ever disappoint me again, is that understood?"
Nodding, while still over Mark's knees, Ryan whispered out, "Yes, sir, Master," as Stephanie continued to watch on in horror, Ryan's behind clenching up as Mark raised his right hand, belt firmly in place. As the belt was crashing down to Ryan's bottom, Stephanie and Ryan both squelched out, the pain surely to be unbearable, but instead, nothing happened.
There was no yelling from the pain of leather meeting skin, there was no redness of Ryan's bottom, no tears other than the one's already flowing from Ryan's face.
No, instead, as Stephanie gathered up the courage to return her eyes to the screen, just as Ryan was turning back around to face Mark, he was holding the belt tightly in his hand, belt hanging in the air. Could he drop his hand down at any moment and strike her? Absolutely. But he didn't.
Allowing his hand to fall to his side, Ryan and Stephanie both heard the clank of the belt's buckle hit the floor, and immediately, both women released a sigh of relief. Could Mark take his hand now and spank her, just as he had done with Stephanie? Of course, but he obviously had no intentions in doing that.
Pulling Ryan back to her feet by the back of her arm, Mark looked back up at the girl, who was looking quite relieved that he had chosen not to impose his physical will over her, but Mark did not let her off the hook so easily.
"That was strike one. Count your blessings, because you deserve everything you were about to get, but, never say that I'm not a fair … and patient man. Strike two is when you get it, and Ryan, I mean it. If you slip up just once, if you fail me …"
Picking up the belt from the floor again, doubling it over, Steph watched as the color once again drained from Ryan's face, as Mark finished his statement, "… I guess I can show you better than I can tell you. Do I make absolutely myself clear?"
Letting her eyes fall back to the floor, Ryan answered, "Yes, Master. Thank you."
"04-24-99"
Mark once again had the camera positioned to where Ryan would usually be sitting at, but this time, she wasn't in the room. No, this time, Mark was the one who was sitting on that same brown stool again, in the same spot Ryan would usually reside.
Wearing a black shirt with the word, "Outlaws" standing out in red, with his prevalently tattooed arms folded up over it, wearing a pair dark blue jeans, and black books, with his legs outstretched and crossed, as well, Mark sat patiently upon the stool, back to the wall, apparently waiting on something … or more specifically … someone. Stephanie then heard the squeak of the door opening again.
As the door apparently closed, Stephanie watched as Mark's eyes began to light up with that poisonous mix of happiness and evilness.
Leaning up, placing his right forearm over his right leg, Stephanie observed carefully as Ryan walked into the camera's focus, but this time, she wasn't hanging her head. This time, she seemed to be smiling along with Mark, that same smile that she always seemed to wear whenever she was in Mark's company now. That demonic, fanatical looking smile, the one that sent shivers down Stephanie's spine whenever she looked at it.
And what's more, Ryan, who was wearing another white shirt, had a black liquid dripping all down the front and the back of it, coming from her hair, which was dripping wet itself, the liquid running down Ryan's neck, shoulders, and arms, as well. While she continued to stand there, as if she was mystified by Mark's overall presence, he gently handed her a towel that had been lying on the floor besides him.
Taking the towel and rubbing it all over her hair, when Ryan brought it back down again, the black whatever was now mixed into the whiteness of the towel. Realizing that Ryan had dyed her hair, Stephanie heard Mark say in one of the most sincerest tones she had ever heard, "Watch your nose. We wouldn't want you to start bleeding."
Answering back with a quaint and polite, yet enthusiastic, "Yes, Master," Stephanie came to the realization that Ryan had obviously gone out, with Mark's accompaniment, and gotten her nose pierced. Facing the camera somewhat, Steph's observation was confirmed, because once again, she saw that thin, black, hoop-like ring protruding out of her nose slightly. Rising to stand in front of her, Mark took his hand and ran it over Ryan's jawline tenderly, and once again, that psychopathic like smile graced Ryan's face.
It was almost like day and night with this girl. One moment she was normal, or about as normal as you could get, the next, she was part of this Ministry, and no one in the Ministry, not even Mark himself, was sane. That whole entire faction thrived on pure evil, destruction, and chaos, but for the most part, they had already had that fire in them before they joined the group; obviously, Ryan was now part of this group, not by her own free will, but because of Mark's harsh and inhumane treatment of her.
No wonder she hated her own flesh and blood. Mark had made Ryan's entire world revolve around him and pleasing him to the point where no one else, not even herself and her own well-being, mattered.
Clicking the button to the projector, turning it off, Mark walked to the back of the room again, turning on the lights to the theater back on, walking right back in front of Stephanie, who was sitting sideways in her seat now, disturbed to no end.
"So that's what happened to her? That's what Mark did to her."
Stephanie, cautiously, looked back up at her husband, who was literally standing before her, his eyes aglow with evil. Not sure what to say or what to do, her stomach quite unsettled from having to watch the mental decline of another woman, Stephanie sat in the chair, with her own eyes downcast now, as she wrenched her fingers back and forth, something she always did when she was nervous, and right now, she very much was.
"Is that what you wanted to see? You wanted to see that, right? I hope I didn't shatter your dreams, but I couldn't live up to your expectations of fucking her. Sorry."
Shaking her head, Stephanie whispered out, low and revolted, "How could you do that to her? That's Kenny's sister, Mark."
"Yeah, I know who she is … was," Mark made sure to counter darkly. "You said I'm trying to make you the next her, right? Think again, Princess. If I wanted to, trust me, I could, but I didn't, and I have no desire to. But, if you don't get your act together …"
"What? You're going to turn me into the next her? Is that it?" Stephanie, having the slight courage, asked lightly, looking up at her husband from the side, her hair dangling beside her face and shoulder.
"I never said that. Once again, you assumed that. Just like you assumed you wanted to be with me. And I'm not quite so sure you still do."
Shaking her head, on the verge of tears, Stephanie, biting her lip, leaning her head over in the direction of her husband, replied regretfully, "You know, Mark, I think you're right."
Nodding his head, then looking around for a moment, Mark asked finally, licking his tongue over his teeth, "So, what do you propose we do about it?"
