"Yes...sir..." Rose murmured, those lovely, yet dead, eyes not even rising to meet his. In fact...she never looked up off the floor, nor did she ever act out of her own will. What was the point? Now she was a slave...a piece of...disposable trash, with no scrap of dignity or pride left. The collar bit into the sensitive skin of her neck, not even bringing out a reaction, despite it pinching uncomfortably. Her hands were limp against her sides...and though he had put his arms around her waist in a mimicry of a hug, she never lifted her arms to return it. Of course she was scared...not only that, she was terrified of him...and would flinch away from his touch, if it didn't bring such cruel punishment...yet again, what was the point? The abuse will continue. This wasn't some cry for love...this was control, this was abuse in its purest form. Her long black hair fell forward, the soft strands brushing against her cheeks, hiding her face from view.