"<span style="font-style: italic">Please</span>," he begged.<br/><br/>Her face harden, her head straightened. She had caught the cheese reflexively and now her stitched up side screamed at her for it. She stood up, his cheese rolling off her and onto the ground. "Time's up." Even at her height of 5'5", he towered over her. Her hands flashed out, a blur as she jabbed at a concentrated point on a lower rub, forcing his body to curl up and bring his head conveniently to her level. Her other hand moved nearly in sync, a seamless '1 2' as her fingers drove into his neck, pinching a nerve that with a jolt of pain, would render him unconscious.<br/><br/>To be fair, she had warned him. She'd never beg.<br/><br/><br/>When he awoke next, he'd find himself with multiple aches to concern himself over. She hadn’t been exactly gentle with him. It wasn’t easy moving him around on her own, but she’d prefer an unconscious charge over a conscious one any day.  Things were guaranteed to remain simple if they weren’t pleading and making demands. A day and a half had passed before she stopped slipping him the drug. She had them settled now, in a cabin surrounded by thicket and dense trees. A warm fire lit the inner confines of a sparse, one room cabin.  The smell of mildew chocked the air, the place had obviously been  unoccupied for decades before the girl had brought him to it. The shutters were closed, making the time of day undeterminable.  The smell of stew laid under the musty dampness that one would first notice.<span style="font-style: italic">She</span>sat in a chair by the fire, rolling two viles in hands as she stared off, her mind, quite literally, elsewhere.