Chapter 14: The Night Vigil
The blue ring light hummed like a trapped insect, casting Sasha's shadow in jagged stripes across the ceiling. She lay on her bed, knees splayed wide, the steel bar between her ankles gleaming dully. The rope had been on for hours now, not tight enough to hurt, just tight enough to hold her open, to remind her. Her wrists were raw where the cuffs had bit, and the skin around them was mottled pink. She had stopped crying an hour ago. Now she just stared at the ceiling, trembling in small, involuntary shudders, her whole body a taut wire strung between need and exhaustion.
The door creaked.
Sasha's breath caught. She turned her head, and there was Mia, silhouetted against the hallway's dim light, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. She wore an oversized t-shirt and nothing else, her feet bare on the carpet. For a moment neither of them moved. Then Mia crossed the room in three silent strides and knelt beside the bed.
"Hey," she whispered.
"Hey," Sasha breathed back, her voice cracked and small.
Mia's fingers found the buckles on the leather cuffs. She worked them loose with slow, deliberate care, and Sasha's wrists fell free, falling limp to the mattress. She didn't move them. Mia moved to the spreader bar, unclipping the cuffs at Sasha's ankles, and the weight lifted off her legs. Sasha let out a sound between a sob and a sigh, her thighs falling together at last, trembling with the sudden freedom.
"I thought you were sleeping," Sasha managed.
"I couldn't." Mia's voice was low. "I thought about you in here. Alone. Still locked up."
Sasha's eyes welled up. She didn't have the strength to hide it. "She said I had to wear it all night. That it would help me, help me get used to the feeling. But I can't, Mia, I can't."
Mia hushed her, sliding a hand behind Sasha's head, fingers threading into the long platinum strands. "You don't have to anymore. Not tonight."
Sasha looked up at her, desperate and searching. "But Margot said—"
"Margot isn't here." Mia's voice dropped, firm and gentle at once. "It's just us. And I'm not going to let you sit here shaking all night, okay?"
Sasha nodded, a tiny, helpless movement. Mia guided her off the bed, down to the floor, the carpet soft and worn beneath them. Sasha's legs were weak, barely able to hold her, and she crumpled against Mia's chest, her face buried in the soft cotton of the t-shirt. Mia's arms closed around her, and Sasha let out a shuddering breath, the first real breath she'd taken in hours.
"I'm so tired," Sasha whispered. "I'm so tired and I'm so..." She couldn't finish. The word hung in the air, unsaid but loud.
"I know, baby." Mia tilted Sasha's chin up and kissed her. Soft at first, a reassurance, but Sasha leaned into it with a desperate hunger that surprised them both. Her mouth opened under Mia's, her tongue sliding forward, and Mia met her with the same heat, one hand sliding down Sasha's back to rest on her hip.
Sasha was still soaked from the protocol, from the hours of enforced denial. Her thighs were slick, her cunt swollen and aching, and when Mia's hand slipped lower, grazing between her legs, Sasha's whole body bucked with a raw, animal whimper.
"Please," she heard herself say. "Please, Mia, I need—"
"I know what you need." Mia's hand pressed against her, two fingers finding her clit through the soaked fabric of her shorts. Sasha cried out, hips jerking, and Mia's other arm tightened around her waist, holding her steady. "I'm going to give it to you. All of it. You don't have to ask."
Mia pulled Sasha's shorts down, and Sasha lifted her hips in desperate cooperation, the fabric peeling away from her slick skin. In the cold blue light, her cunt glistened, swollen and puffy, clit pink and throbbing. Mia looked at her for a long moment, and Sasha felt the weight of that gaze like a touch.
"Look at you," Mia murmured. "So fucking desperate. She kept you like this all night, didn't she?"
Sasha nodded, trembling. "Please."
Mia didn't make her wait. She slid two fingers inside, slow and thick, and Sasha's mouth dropped open in a long, shaking moan. The stretch was a relief and an ache at once, her walls gripping hungrily around Mia's fingers. Mia curled them, pressing against that spot inside her, and Sasha's eyes rolled back.
"That's it," Mia breathed. "Let go. Let me feel you come."
But Sasha's body had been trained now, trained to hold back. She teetered on the edge, breath hitching, her thighs shaking, and every time she got close her muscles locked up, refusing to release. Mia noticed, a flicker of anger crossing her face, not at Sasha but at Margot, at the cruel precision of the edging protocol.
"Hey." Mia's voice sharpened just enough to pull Sasha's focus back. "Look at me."
Sasha forced her eyes open, meeting Mia's steady gaze.
"You're going to come for me. Now. You're going to come and you're not going to stop coming until I tell you to, understand?"
Sasha nodded, a whimper escaping her.
Mia's thumb found her clit, rubbing in tight, fast circles, and her fingers drove deeper, relentless. Sasha's hips bucked, her hands clawing at the carpet, and the first orgasm hit her like a wave crashing over a dam. Her entire body seized, a raw, guttural cry torn from her throat, her cunt clenching hard around Mia's fingers.
"Good girl," Mia whispered, and she didn't stop.
The second orgasm rolled through before the first had fully faded, smaller but sharper, making Sasha sob with overwhelmed relief. Her eyes were wet, tears cutting tracks through the leftover makeup from yesterday's stream. Mia held her through it, fingers still working, stroking her through each wave of release.
"One more," Mia murmured. "You can give me one more."
"I can't," Sasha gasped, but her body betrayed her, hips grinding against Mia's hand, chasing the feeling even as she shook with it. The third orgasm crashed through her, deeper and longer than the rest, and Sasha sobbed openly now, a wreck of pleasure and gratitude, her face buried in Mia's shoulder.
Mia withdrew her fingers slowly, letting Sasha settle, and wrapped her arms around her fully. Sasha trembled against her, boneless and spent, her breathing ragged.
"Thank you," she whispered into Mia's neck, her voice wrecked. "Thank you, thank you, Mia."
Mia held her, stroking her hair, a complicated expression on her face that Sasha couldn't see. "You're okay. I've got you."
For a long moment, they stayed like that, Sasha collapsed in Mia's lap, the cold light washing over them. Sasha's body was finally quiet, the ache drained out of her, leaving nothing but exhausted peace in its place. She didn't know what tomorrow would bring, or what Margot would say in the morning, or how much more she could take. But right now, in this moment, she was held, and she was warm, and she had finally, finally been allowed to come.
Mia kissed the top of her head. "I'm not going to let her break you," she said, so softly Sasha almost didn't catch it. "Not while I'm here."
Sasha believed her. She wanted to believe her. She let her eyes fall closed, let the trembling finally stop, and for the first time in days, she felt something like safe.
The blue light flickered, and Sasha's breathing finally evened out, her body limp against Mia's. Mia held her until the trembling stopped, until Sasha's grip on her t-shirt loosened and her eyes fluttered shut. She carried her back to the bed, tucked her under the duvet, and pressed one last kiss to her forehead before slipping out into the hallway.
---
The next three days were a blur of blue light and steel. Margot's edging protocol tightened like a vise. Every morning, Sasha would wake to Margot's fingers already inside her, coaxing her to the brink and then pulling away with a cold smile, leaving her soaked and shaking on the bed. Every stream was an exercise in torture: the vibrator humming between her legs, the chat's compliments washing over her like static, Margot's hand signals directing her to lean forward, to pout, to touch her hair. By the time the stream ended, Sasha could barely walk, her thighs slick, her cunt a swollen, aching void.
And every night, around 2 AM, the door would creak, and Mia would slip in.
The first night after the spreader bar, Mia found Sasha on the bed, wrists already raw from the cuffs Margot had bound her in before leaving for her own room. Mia loosened them in silence, pulled Sasha to the floor, and had her coming in under two minutes, Sasha's face buried in Mia's shoulder to muffle the sobs.
The second night, it was worse. Margot had moved the vibrator up a setting and left it inside Sasha with strict instructions not to remove it until morning. Sasha lay there, trembling, the low hum driving her past the edge of reason. When Mia slipped in, she didn't wait for the ritual of untying. She pulled Sasha's shorts down, climbed on top of her, and rode her fingers against her clit until Sasha came three times in quick succession, biting down on her own wrist to keep from screaming.
But on the third night, Sasha couldn't hold it in anymore.
Mia's fingers were inside her, her thumb pressing relentless circles on her clit, and Sasha's orgasm crashed through her like a wave of fire. A raw, guttural cry tore from her throat, loud enough to echo off the walls. Mia clapped a hand over her mouth, too late, and they both froze, listening to the silence of the apartment.
In Margot's room, there was a shift of weight on the bed. A floorboard creaked.
"Fuck," Mia breathed.
Sasha's eyes were wide, her chest heaving. "She heard me. She's going to know."
Mia listened for another long moment, then exhaled slowly. "She's settling down. She might have just shifted in her sleep. But we can't risk that again."
The next night, Mia arrived with a small leather pouch. She sat cross-legged on Sasha's bed, Sasha kneeling between her thighs, still bound in the day's ropes. Mia unzipped the pouch and drew out a ball gag, black leather and steel, the silicone ball gleaming under the blue light.
"This is for you," Mia said softly. "So you can let go without waking the whole building."
Sasha stared at it. Her mouth felt dry. "You want me to wear it?"
"Only when we're together." Mia held it up, turning it in her fingers. "It's not a punishment. It's so I can make you come as hard as you need to, without having to worry about Margot hearing us through the wall."
Sasha hesitated, her gaze flickering between Mia's face and the gag. But her body was a live wire again, that familiar ache already building in her cunt after a full day of Margot's teasing. She nodded.
Mia's lips curved into a soft, satisfied smile. She guided Sasha's mouth open with two fingers, pressing the ball between her teeth. It filled her mouth, slick and rubbery, pressing her tongue down, and the leather straps tightened around her head as Mia buckled them behind her. Sasha's eyes widened as the reality of it settled over her, a helpless warmth spreading through her chest.
"There we go," Mia murmured, admiring her. "Look at you. So quiet. So pretty."
Sasha tried to speak, but the gag swallowed her voice, leaving only a muffled, unintelligible whimper. Her hips twitched involuntarily, a wave of arousal washing over her at the feeling of being silenced, of being seen.
Mia slid a hand between her thighs, and Sasha's muffled moan was barely a whisper. Mia smiled, a dark, knowing glint in her eye, and pressed two fingers inside her. Sasha's hands clenched on Mia's shoulders as the familiar relentless rhythm began, but this time there was no terror of being heard. The gag made it safe.
And so the nights went. Margot's days grew harsher, her edging more precise, her expectations higher. And every night, Mia stole into Sasha's room, loosened the bonds, fitted the gag between her teeth, and fucked her until she came apart, again and again, silent and safe behind the leather and steel.
Sasha learned to love the gag. Not the weight of it, not the taste of rubber against her tongue, but what it meant: that Mia would come for her, that Mia would take care of her, that for a few stolen hours she could let go completely without consequence.
On the fifth night, Mia arrived to find Sasha already kneeling on the bed, the ball gag already buckled into place, her eyes bright with desperate need. Mia paused in the doorway, a slow smile spreading across her face.
"Eager tonight," she said softly, closing the door behind her.
Sasha nodded, her muffled whimper as loud as she could manage. Mia crossed the room, dropping to her knees, and pulled Sasha into her arms.
"Good girl," she whispered against her hair. "So good for me."
And when Mia's fingers found her, slick and ready, Sasha's whole body arched, her cry lost in the leather and steel, swallowed by the night.
Mia found her slick and ready, just as she always was now, her body conditioned to respond the instant the door creaked. She pulled Sasha's thighs apart and pressed two fingers inside, slow and thick, and Sasha's muffled whimper was pure relief. Mia worked her with practiced precision, feeling the familiar tension build in Sasha's thighs, the way her hips began to move in desperate, unconscious rhythm.
But tonight, Mia wanted more.
She withdrew her fingers, and Sasha made a small, confused sound. Before Sasha could react, Mia shifted, repositioning them on the bed. She guided Sasha down, pressing her shoulders until Sasha understood, until her face hovered between Mia's thighs.
"You've been taking from me every night, baby," Mia murmured, threading her fingers through Sasha's platinum hair. "Time to give a little back."
Sasha looked up at her, eyes wide over the gag, and for a moment Mia saw hesitation flicker there. But the need was stronger, the desperate ache that had been built and denied and built again over the past days. Sasha leaned in, pressing her mouth against Mia's pussy through the thin cotton of her underwear, and Mia let out a low, pleased sound.
There, she thought. There it is.
Mia guided Sasha's hands to the hem of her t-shirt, and Sasha pulled it up, exposing Mia's bare cunt. She hesitated again, but Mia's grip tightened in her hair, a firm, insistent tug.
"Use your mouth, Sasha. You know how."
And Sasha did. She pressed her tongue flat against Mia's clit, an awkward, unpracticed stroke that made Mia's breath catch anyway. The gag made it clumsy, made it wet and obscene, but there was something raw and perfect about it, the way Sasha's muffled efforts translated into nothing but tongue and pressure. Mia guided her, hips twitching, fingers twisting in the platinum strands, showing her where and how.
"That's it. Lick me like you mean it, baby."
Sasha's hands gripped Mia's thighs, and she found a rhythm, clumsy but determined, driven by the same desperate need that had her begging every night. Mia's head fell back, a low moan escaping her as Sasha's tongue circled her clit, pressing harder, wetter, more urgent.
"Good. Fucking good girl."
Sasha's muffled whimpers vibrated against Mia's cunt, a delicious hum that sent sparks up Mia's spine. She held Sasha's head there, grinding against her mouth, using her, and Sasha took it, eager and worshipful. Mia came with a sharp gasp, her thighs clamping around Sasha's head, riding out the waves as Sasha kept licking, kept pressing, until Mia's grip loosened and her body went slack.
She pulled Sasha up, kissing her through the gag, tasting herself on Sasha's lips. Sasha was trembling, her eyes glassy with need, her cunt aching and empty. Mia could feel the heat radiating off her, the desperation rolling off her in waves.
"Not yet," Mia murmured against her ear. "I have something better for you."
She reached under the bed and drew out a long, flat case. Sasha watched, her brow furrowing, as Mia unzipped it. Inside, nestled in black velvet, lay a strap-on harness and a silicone dildo, an inch thick, eight inches long, curved with a slight upward angle. The surface was smooth and matte, realistically veined but clearly synthetic.
Sasha's eyes went wide.
Mia held it up, turning it in the blue light. "You want to know what it feels like, don't you? To be filled properly. To be fucked the way you deserve."
Sasha's muffled whimper was answer enough. Her cunt was already dripping, a slick trail running down her thigh. She stared at the dildo with a mix of fear and hunger that made Mia's heart race.
Mia buckled the harness around her hips, settling it snug, the dildo standing upright and gleaming. She pulled Sasha onto her back on the carpet, spreading her legs wide, and knelt between them. Sasha's chest heaved, her hands gripping the carpet, her gaze fixed on the dildo hovering at her entrance.
"Look at me," Mia said, and Sasha forced her eyes up. "You're going to take all of it. And you're going to come for me. Understand?"
Sasha nodded, a desperate whimper escaping the gag.
Mia pressed the tip against her, slick and teasing. Sasha's hips bucked, trying to chase it, but Mia held her still with a firm hand on her hip.
"Not yet. Tell me you want it."
Sasha's muffled sounds of frustration were almost a sob. She nodded frantically, hands clawing at Mia's thighs, trying to push her closer.
"Use your words, baby. I can't hear you."
Sasha looked at her, confused, and Mia remembered the gag. She reached behind Sasha's head and unbuckled the strap, pulling the ball free. Sasha gasped, a huge breath of relief, spittle glistening on her chin.
"Please," she choked out. "Please, Mia, I need you inside me. Please, I'll do anything, just fuck me, please—"
Mia's lips curved into a slow smile. "There she is."
She drove forward in one smooth, brutal stroke, sinking the dildo to the hilt inside Sasha. Sasha's scream was raw and broken, her entire body arching off the floor, her nails raking welts across Mia's shoulders. Mia held still for a moment, letting her feel the stretch, the fullness, the relentless pressure against her walls.
"Fuck," Sasha sobbed. "Fuck, fuck, it's so—"
Mia pulled back and thrust again, harder. Sasha's words dissolved into incoherent cries, her head thrashing, her hands reaching blindly for something to hold onto. Mia found her rhythm, a steady punishing pace that drove the dildo deep with every stroke, the curve pressing against her g-spot with each roll of Mia's hips.
"Look at you," Mia breathed, voice low and worshipful. "So fucking empty without me, weren't you? So desperate to be filled. And now here you are. Taking all of it."
"I take it," Sasha gasped, tears streaming down her cheeks, "I take all of it, Mia, don't stop, please don't stop—"
Mia didn't stop. She leaned down, crushing her mouth against Sasha's, swallowing her cries, and fucked her through orgasm after orgasm. Sasha came with a broken scream the first time, and again barely a minute later, and a third time with a long, shaking sob as Mia's hips ground against her, pressing the base of the harness against her clit. Mia came with a guttural groan, grinding hard, her own release a sharp, bright crest of pleasure that she rode against Sasha's shaking body.
When they finally stilled, Sasha was a wreck beneath her, limp and gasping, her cunt clenching reflexively around the dildo still buried inside her. Mia pulled out slowly, and Sasha whimpered at the loss, her thighs trembling.
Mia unbuckled the harness and set it aside, then gathered Sasha into her arms, pressing kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her damp lips.
"You did so well," Mia murmured. "So fucking well, baby."
Sasha curled into her, face buried against Mia's neck, hot tears soaking into the fabric of her t-shirt. "You're going to come back tomorrow night?"
Mia's hand stilled for a moment, then resumed its slow stroking through Sasha's hair. "Every night, baby. Every single night."
The harness case slid back under the bed, and Sasha lay tangled in Mia's arms, her body still humming with the aftershocks of release. The blue light cast her platinum hair in silver streaks, and her eyes were half closed, her breathing finally even. Mia watched her for a long moment, tracing the soft curve of her cheekbone, before pressing one last kiss to her forehead and slipping out of the room.
The next day, Sasha's sleep had been the deepest she'd had in weeks. She woke without the familiar racing pulse, without the trembling in her thighs, and for the first time, the morning ritual of Margot's edging felt almost bearable. She held the edge longer without weeping, her voice steadier when she spoke, her hands still when she sat.
Margot noticed.
It happened during Sasha's next stream. Sasha was mid-drawing, a pastel landscape of a curling river, and her voice had an ease to it that hadn't been there before. She laughed at a chat comment, a genuine sound, and her hips didn't shift restlessly in her chair. The vibrator was humming inside her, set to low as always, but Sasha's cheeks barely flushed. She leaned forward to adjust her tablet, and her lips curved in a small, natural smile.
Margot's eyes narrowed.
Off camera, she studied Sasha with sharp, calculating focus. A cat that had spotted a mouse growing complacent. She watched Sasha's relaxed shoulders, the easy movement of her hands, the way she wasn't clinging to the edge of the desk for support. Her thumbs moved over her phone, and she typed a single message to Mia.
*She's too comfortable. Fix it tomorrow.*
Mia, standing near the door watching the stream, read the message and swallowed. She looked at Sasha, so peaceful in the ring light, and felt a twist in her chest. But she typed back before she could think.
*Understood.*
That night, after the stream ended and Sasha had gone to bed, Margot came to Sasha's room with a black canvas bag. She set it on the floor with a soft thud and folded her arms, watching Sasha's face go pale in the blue light.
"We need to recalibrate," Margot said, her voice unhurried, almost pleasant. "You've gotten comfortable, and comfort is the enemy of performance."
Sasha sat up, her hands gripping the duvet. "I thought the stream was good. The chat loved it. Viewers were up—"
"Viewers are never the point." Margot unzipped the bag, drawing out a thick leather collar with a steel ring at the front. "The point is that you're working. Every stream. Every moment. And you've been lazy, haven't you? It makes you ordinary."
"The question is, are you going to be a good girl and let me help you get back on track, or are we going to have a problem?"
A long silence stretched between them. Sasha's throat worked, and her hands trembled where she gripped the blanket.
"Good girl," Margot said, as if Sasha had already agreed. She held up the collar. "Come here."
Sasha crawled across the bed and knelt on the floor at Margot's feet. The carpet was rough under her knees, already worn from the nights she'd spent there, and she watched Margot's hands move with mechanical precision. The collar buckled around her throat, snug but not choking. Margot reached into the bag again and drew out a pair of nipple clamps, steel jaws with leather-wrapped tips, connected by a delicate silver chain.
"These will remind you to stay present," Margot said, adjusting the clamps' tension. "And this."
She produced a heavy leather arm binder: a long sheath that would encase Sasha's arms from shoulder to wrist, cinched tight behind her back with buckles, rendering her hands useless. Sasha's mouth went dry at the sight, her skin prickling. She'd seen binders in Margot's gear drawer before, but she'd never considered that they might be for her.
"Margot, I can't draw with my hands bound. The stream, we co-stream and I need—"
"You'll be sitting at your desk with your arms behind you. You'll still be on camera from the waist up. The chat will see your face, your hair, your pretty tits straining against the top. They won't see your hands. They'll think you're just leaning back, being coy."
Sasha's heart hammered. "But what if I need to adjust the tablet? Or switch scenes? Or—"
"You won't." Margot's smile was thin, almost kind. "You'll simply be present. You'll talk, you'll smile, you'll let them worship you. And I'll control everything else."
The next morning, Margot prepared Sasha for the stream with clinical efficiency. The arm binder went on first, Sasha's arms folded behind her back and encased in the tight leather sheath, buckles tightened until she felt her shoulder blades strain together. She couldn't move her hands more than a few inches, her fingers twitching uselessly inside the leather.
"Good," Margot said. "Now these."
The nipple clamps were cold where they bit down. Sasha gasped, her tits jolting, the chain swinging between them. The ache was sharp and immediate, and the steady metallic pull sent a hot flush through her chest.
The vibrator slid inside her, already humming. The spreader bar locked between her ankles, forcing her thighs apart. High heels, six-inch strappy sandals she'd never worn before, were buckled onto her feet, the pose stretching her calves and arching her back. The collar was already around her throat, the steel ring warm against her skin.
And then Margot stepped back, admiring her work. Sasha stood at the edge of her desk, legs spread wide by the bar, arms locked behind her, clamps biting her nipples, vibrator deep in her cunt. She was completely naked from the waist down, her pussy glistening and exposed, but from the camera's angle, she'd be framed perfectly from the torso up.
"Now," Margot said, pulling the desk chair into place and settling Sasha into it, arranging her limbs so the spreader bar pressed against the front of the chair, hidden from view. "Let's see how well you perform when you can't hide behind your hands."
The stream started on time. Sasha's smile was too bright, her voice a little too high as she greeted the chat. The arm binder pressed against her spine, making her shoulders ache, and the nipple clamps were a constant, throbbing reminder. But the vibrator, the insistent hum against her g-spot, was the worst by far. It built and built, never quite cresting, and Sasha had no hands to reach for, no way to adjust her position, no distraction.
She leaned back in the chair, just as Margot had instructed, her bound arms invisible below the desk's edge. The chat fluttered with compliments about her posture, her smile, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath.
"You look so relaxed today, Sasha!"
"Girl is glowing."
"Love the new vibe, keep it up!"
Sasha laughed, and the laugh came out breathy, cracked. She bit her lip. The clamps swung with the motion, a sharp sting that made her eyes water. Margot's phone flashed a hand signal from off camera: *lean forward.*
She obeyed, arching her back, and the clamps dragged, pulling her nipples to points against the thin fabric of her top. The vibrator was relentless inside her, pressing directly against her g-spot, and Sasha felt herself spiraling closer and closer to the edge.
"I'm, um, I'm going to work on a speedpaint today," she managed, her voice trembling. "Something... something cozy. Fall landscape, maybe. With, um, a cottage. And... and—" Her breath hitched as the vibrator kicked up a notch. "—and a little stream. With water."
The chat went wild with emoji hearts and excitement. Sasha's thighs were quivering under the desk, slick dripping down her legs, the spreader bar keeping her wide open. She was desperate to come, desperate to close her legs, desperate to touch herself, and she couldn't do any of it.
Margot watched from the doorway, phone in hand, a satisfied smile playing at her lips. Sasha's face was flushed, her eyes glassy, her composure crumbling with every passing minute. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She laughed at a chat comment and it cracked midway, becoming a strangled, desperate little groan that she tried to cover with a cough.
"Mia," Margot said softly, not taking her eyes off Sasha. "Come here."
Mia stepped closer, her face carefully blank.
"She's beautiful like this, isn't she?" Margot's voice was low, almost admiring. "All that need, all that desperation, shimmering under the surface. The chat will eat it up. They'll keep coming back, night after night, watching her beg without even knowing they're watching her beg."
Mia said nothing. Her hands were clenched at her sides.
"Don't worry." Margot's smile sharpened. "She still needs her quiet little chats with you. That's what keeps her pliable. And you'll keep giving them to her, won't you? Even as you help me break her more."
Mia's jaw tightened. But she looked at Sasha, trembling on the edge of release, eyes wet, voice cracking, arms invisible behind her back, and she heard herself say, "Yes."