...than to ruthlessly abuse a broken servant, who's willing to be controlled and exploited by his mistress. He bends and breaks to her will, forsaking his own in the process; his mind and principles are annihilated as he's twisted around her fingers. It's what he deserves: not to be gently talked into submission, but to have it beaten into him. His skull, smashed; his jaw, dislocated; his limbs, broken; tensely coerced to deranged actions, under the constant threat of being reduced to a weeping stream in a snap of the fingers. He obeys, follows orders, follows her, but his punishments continue, even if sometimes without an apparent motive. Wherever he's been, his blood has been spilled.

If – by the advent of a miracle – he's so deserving of pity, he can find solace under the guise of his abusive mistress, who will momentarily revel in his pitiful self-worthlessness, as he basks in the light of her saintly gracefulness.

/I.S.