"C'mon," he grunts, fingers tightening on her hips as his eyes burned. "You're going to do it again."

It had been weeks- months, maybe; she couldn't tell- since he had tracked her down and stolen her away. Off to this little room with the wooden floor and the plush toys strewn on the bed, right alongside the thick leather collar around her neck. And the chain, the horrible chain, shrouded in velvet as it is, that kept her trapped in the room with the bed and the desk with its simple screen, amid the plush smiles and unblinking eyes.

If only, she thinks. If only she could find a way to let them know that it wasn't her fault, to get a message out, to get help.

But here he stands, holding her down with fiery eyes and a fierce command.

"Don't think about them," he demands, tracing the soft curve of her stomach with a lingering pressure. "You're going to make me another one."

Tears well in her eyes. Every one she makes for him just gets cast out, most of the time, into the cold with no one to find them in time. Not like what she had before...

"You didn't think," he purrs softly, standing up and letting his fingers drift over the collar, her only clothing now. "That once I saw what you could make, I'd let you go, did you? Forget about them, and do it."

She knows. She knows that the usual stuff is so unlike her, that no one will notice this isn't him. Maybe if she does something a little different...

With a shuddering sigh, she scans the list of names, names she's just a lonely word in brackets to now, thanks to what he made her do, and the chain rattles behind her as she settles her hand to the mouse. Maybe if she makes this one different, someone will notice. Fingers dancing over the keys under his watchful gaze, she begins to type:

"C'mon," he grunts, fingers tightening on her hips as his eyes burned...

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