She's yammering again, her fluttering, piping voice barely audible. I have no idea what she's trying to say, but her body language is pretty succinct. I smile, and simply pin the defiant thing to my palm with a thumb, the pad of it easily as long as she is tall. I let her feel the weight of it, pressing her into the soft leather of my palm, then I begin to =grind=. Her thin gym clothes rip themselves to tatters under my heavy, twisting thumb, and when I am done, she lays in the palm of my hand, bruised and naked.
I laugh aloud as I see the miserable state I've left her in. Poor little thing looks positively stunned. Lets see how well she takes to her training. I re-issue my command, visions of slow death by torture make my eyes gleam wickedly... all she needs do is refuse me again.