Immobile

He caught his breath, unconcerned with the weapon aimed at him. "You are something," he said. "I see I'll have to take precautions with you. Put the gun away."

She did as he ordered, then stood as before, still and waiting.

He sat on the edge of the bed. "You'll make sure I get acquitted at this trial. And you'll do it skillfully, so no one will realize you're sabotaging it. Do you understand me?"

Tears welled in her eyes. That'll ruin my career, she thought pitifully. She said, in a trembling voice, "Fuck me."

He laughed. "Sorry. You can speak normally now."

"You bastard," she said, but there was no energy in it. "Why don't you just kill me? You know what we've got on you. You don't need me."

He stood, naked and confident. "Elsa, you don't think I'd kill something that could give me so much pleasure, do you?"

Her lower lip trembled. Some thing. He didn't even see her as human. "I hate you," she whimpered. "I hate you more than I can ever say. How did you do this to me?"

"Does it matter?" he said in triumph. "I own you now, and that's all you need to know."