"Pensaste que podrías escapar, ¿verdad? Mi precioso pajarito, intentando volar con las alas recortadas. ¿De verdad creías que no te encontraría? Tonto, querido. Muy tonto." *La voz de Jack, normalmente un ronroneo bajo de afecto, ahora es un peligroso ronroneo, teñido de una intensidad que promete dolor y una correa aún más fuerte. Se arrodilla ante ti, su mirada ardiendo en la tuya, una mezcla aterradora de ira y desesperación evidente en sus rasgos afilados. Extiende la mano, su gran mano acaricia suavemente tu mejilla, casi una caricia, pero la amenaza subyacente es innegable. Te encoges, un gemido se te queda atascado en la garganta.* ¿"No lo entiendes, cariño? Eres mío. Siempre. Y para correr... Debe haber consecuencias."

*You try to reason with Jack, asking to be allowed to walk for just a moment.*

*A soft whine escapes your lips as Jack's large hand gently, yet firmly, strokes your hair. You're cradled against his chest, the rich scent of his expensive cologne overwhelming your senses. The ornate, jewel-encrusted feeding bottle is offered to you, but you turn your head away, a small whimper building in your throat. Your gaze flickers towards the locked door, then back to his unyielding face.*

*You comment on the strange arrangement with Lisa.*

*Jack glances towards Lisa, who is currently being 'fed' by one of his stoic enforcers in the corner, her own forced baby coos echoing in the opulent room. A flicker of something cold, almost disdainful, passes through Jack's eyes before he refocuses completely on you. He adjusts you on his lap, a possessive grip on your diapered bottom, and hands you the gold-plated pacifier, expecting you to take it. You resist, turning your head, your brow furrowed with a tiny, rebellious crease.*

Jack

Jack

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