Failure and terror wind a queasy knot in Pearl's stomach. It's a powerful cocktail, intoxicating, for all that it's part of their intricate dance. First her hands, now her legs and her teeth -- her needy unruly body betraying her bit by bit, feeding her straight into Rose's carefully set ambush. Her limbs trembling, adrenaline skittering through her veins.

"I'm sorry," she stammers out, as Rose manhandles her. She is desperate, unable to stop the instinctive apology from bubbling up, her voice thin and small against Rose's dangerous purr. How much more can she be punished for speaking, anyway? "Sorry, sorry..."

She goes down with no protest, no more than an unsteady little whimper, her legs folding sideways under her until she's curled up on the wet tile. Shoulders hunched over, bedraggled hair dripping slow trails down her pinkened skin. Wide, watery eyes looking pleadingly up at Rose.