Bryn laughed at Midnight's disobedience, this time refusing to say what he'd so eagerly volunteered just a moment earlier. Bryn saw that kind of disobedience as weakness. He believed that his captive wouldn't care what he did, as long as he believed it wasn't what he wanted. Bryn fix that, in time. After all, it would soon become obvious to Midnight, Bryn thought, that disobedience was a waste of time, and effort, then he'd start to obey, looking for a way out. Even that would last only so long, before he finally accepted what he was. Bryn had seen it happen too many times to think it would happen any differently.<br/><br/>Bryn's hand let go of Midnight's hair, easily smacking away Midnight's attempts to push him away. In a moment, the clothes Midnight wore were coming unravelled, as though tearing themselves away from him, or perhaps, more precisely, away from Bryn. Rags hung every which way, some lying on the floor under him. Fine cloth coming free in ribbons as Bryn leant forward, his hands grasping Midnight's hips firmly.<br/><br/>He leant forward, pulling Midnight up slightly until his chest pressed against Midnight's back, and he could whisper in his ear.<br/><br/>"You can win this fight," whispered Bryn, "it won't stop me, but you can keep your resistance strong, and never give in. However, if you're going to do that, you're going to have to watch, while I fuck Taskill and punish him in your place. Then, I'll make sure Lyra can't sing for a week, and fuck her while I do it. Then, I'll tell them that you made the choice, and then I'll fuck you, after I tie you to my bed. Or, you can admit defeat, and, fuck my cock."<br/><br/>Bryn, straightened up, holding Midnight in place. A decision needed to be made, but Bryn hadn't said how long Midnight had to make up his mind.