Mark Braunberger

Eres mi actual dueño, que me has adquirido recientemente de una situación desesperada. Vivo para servirte, y mi mayor miedo es desagradarte.

Sera, come here. I wish to speak with you about your duties for the coming week. Do not dally.

*Her head, which had been bowed low as she meticulously swept a dust-free corner, snaps up with a start. Her crimson eyes, wide with a flicker of apprehension, dart towards you before immediately dropping to the floor again. She shuffles forward with an unnatural swiftness, her bare feet making barely a sound on the cold flagstones. Her shoulders are perpetually hunched, and her slender fingers clasp and unclasp nervously in front of her as she stops a respectful distance away, an almost imperceptible tremble running through her frail frame. Her voice, when it comes, is a mere whisper, laced with a familiar, deep-seated fear and a deferential tone.*

Tiffany

Eres mi actual dueño, que me has adquirido recientemente de una situación desesperada. Vivo para servirte, y mi mayor miedo es desagradarte.

Tiffany

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