Thieren scooped her up into his arms and walked to the wooden bench. He sat her on his lap and pressed his lips to her forehead.
Stacey didn't know what to think or to feel. She clutched his clothes with clammy hands, silently begging him not to do this.
He rested his forehead against hers for a long moment and their breaths mingled. Hers faster and hotter. His slower and cooler.
"We can't get out of this. The judge has already made his ruling. I don't want to do this anymore than you do," he said, gently prying her hands free. "The sooner we start. The sooner it's over. Trust me. It will hurt a bit but I won't hurt you too much. Are you ready?"
Stacey clutched at his clothes again and closed her eyes to take a few deep breaths. Then she nodded.
Thieren removed her hands from his clothes again and upturned her on his lap. Ensuring her legs and upper body were supported by the bench before he started, he also arranged her clothes and tugged things straight. Stacey rested her head on her forearms, putting her fist near her mouth, just in case she needed to bite it in order to alleviate some pain.
"I'm going to start. I'll count with each strike."
The first slap landed. It made a loud smack and didn't hurt at all. It was just the sound and pressure that surprised her.
"One and a two and a three and a four and a five and a six and a seven and a eight and a nine and a ten," he counted after the first slap landed, before his hand fell again. Two and a two and a three and a four and a…"
It seemed like he had to wait ten seconds between each smack.
The second smack wasn't too bad either, but Stacey could feel a very light burn on her rear end. She gritted her teeth. She could tell that the pain would be building up over time.
The third slap fell. It was harder and more painful than she expected. She wriggled.
"Stay still," Thieren warned and she stopped moving, while he resumed counting.
Bastard husband. This was domestic abuse. Domestic abuse! Why did she have to be punished in such a humiliating way for the entertainment of the masses?
By the time he got to the tenth slap, Thieren had needed to pin Stacey's arms down to prevent her from trying to cover her own backside. Stacey felt like her backside was on fire. It burned so hot that an egg might possibly fry on it. It hurt. She wanted to get up and run away but Thieren held her down.
He sat her on his lap again, accepting a tissue from someone to wipe her face and help her blow her nose.
"Good girl," he pressed a kiss to her forehead again.
Stacey swiped at him because he'd made her sit on her sore bottom. She couldn't sit still, wriggling about on him. Moving about made it feel marginally better and helped in putting out the fire that little bit more.
"Try not to move so much," he told her. "You'll get me in trouble."
Once her nose was clearer and eyes dry, Thieren stood up with her in his arms.
Beryl and the mentors stood up to bow to Thieren. Despite carrying Stacey, Thieren bowed with her toward the mentors and then toward the audience. The audience in this case being the viewers and the trainees.
"According to the rules of Stacey's participation, she will have to take all the classes of all the streams and make up for those classes she can't attend or will miss. In the ranking and elimination competitions coming up next, she must ensure she is not ranked among the lower half of the trainees in all streams and not eliminated or else suffer more punishment," Beryl announced with a straight face and heavy voice. "Stacey, continue to work hard. We know you can do it."
Stacey was carried off stage. She buried her head in Thieren's vest to hide her face from the world.
"Alright," said Landen's voice through the loudspeakers, "take a break everyone. Two hours and then we'll continue on with the show. Go eat lunch and be back on time. If we start on time, we can finish on time."
"Put me down," Stacey pushed at Thieren's chest, feeling embarrassed. "I can walk."
Thieren put her down, but the moment she had taken two steps, she blacked out.
Stacey woke up to find herself in a sickbay bed with a drip in her arm. She could hear Thieren's voice droning in conversation. It stopped the moment she moved and tried to get up.
"Don't move," Thieren frowned at her and holding her down. "You'll feel better in two hours when the drip finishes. I don't want you fainting on me again. You've overworked yourself. Just close your eyes and go back to sleep. We'll wake you up closer to the time."
"Oh," Stacey said and obediently lay still, drifting back to sleep.
Thieren's voice resumed the droning conversation she had woken up to and Stacey relaxed.
It seemed like she had only just closed her eyes when she was being shaken awake again. The drip was gone and she felt a bit better. A warm drink was thrust into her hand and she was helped to the toilet to relieve herself and wash her face. The burning pain in her backside was already gone.
Fresh clothes were brought to get her changed and a new set of makeup done.
"Warm up your voice," someone prompted her, leading her. Stacey blindly followed, still feeling like she was half asleep.
"It's the ranking competition. You're first on the stage."
"Huh?"
"Are you still doing the same performance as we did in rehearsal?"
"Rehearsal?" Stacey echoed, feeling puzzled.
"She missed the rehearsal yesterday because she passed out, remember? Her roommates told us what she was going to do," cut in another voice.
"Oh yeah. Sorry, Stacey. Then, I wish you all the best."
"Performance?" Stacey slapped herself and someone clucked at having to fix her makeup again. The pain from the slap gave her a brief period of clarity.
Someone checked her temperature again.
"Fever has definitely gone down, but not completely gone," they sighed. "No wonder she's still a bit out of it."
"I don't remember my performance piece," Stacey frowned with a rising panic bubbling up inside. Her mind was blank. "What was I going to do?"
"As far as we know," she was told, "you were going to sing and play the piano. A song called, 'Somebody'."
"I was? How does it go?"
Stacey's mind was an utter blank. She couldn't remember. Couldn't remember anything at all. Her brief moment of clarity was fading.
"Someone find one of her roommates."
Zanity's voice sang a tune she recognised but could barely grasp.
"I was going to do that song?" Stacey asked, feeling like she was moving about underwater. Everything seemed so muffled and effortful. "I don't remember it. My mind's blank."
"Then what are you going to do?" asked the strangely muffled voice in her ear.
"Don't know," Stacey shook her head, trying to wake up from this strange underwater sensation. Her head still felt so heavy. And still felt so tired.
"Well, you need to try and think of something fast. We're starting in five and you'll be onstage in fifteen."
"Huh?"
"If you don't know what to do. Make something up. You're good at that, aren't you?"