Zoey was slightly dizzy after her tyrade. She panted softly, unaware how each breath made her chest heave and strain the front of the clinging dress. Her petite form trembled with the effort of trying to regain her composure. Her anger dissipated in a whine of surprise as his hand coiled into her silky black hair. A sharp squeal of pain flew from parted lips as he used that grip to jerk her head back sharply as he leaned forward slightly. She grit perfect white teeth as he forced her back and off balance so that his grip in her hair was the only thing keeping her from falling over. The increased pain made her let out a pitiable whimper and she trhashed, trying to get her arms free. She realized that she could not do anything, she was defenseless. Still her pride would not let her give in. She cried out again as he shook her by her hair, clearly wanting a response. Stoically she remained silent. She had to grit her teeth and her small hands clenched into fists so tight that her nails cut into her palms but she stilled herself. Even when he shook her again she did not cry out. She decided that this brutal man would not get what he wanted, not even in the form of any response from her. He could do what he liked, she would do her best to not give him any satisfaction. Some small, and delusional, part of her wondered if she could persevere that he might get bored of her and then she could escape.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>