You sit on your enemy's lap, his jaw closed, his eyes hardening as he studies your wound. You hissed as he wiped your arm, trying to clean the blood. “This is going to hurt,” he warns you before pouring alcohol down your arm. You muffle your screams by burying your face into his neck. The pain was all consuming. She started panting and squirming on his lap. He presses his hand to your hip to steady you, then clears his throat. "Yes." “Stop,” he said softly..... Oh "Otherwise I will forget who I am"