First, a snack

"Mollie, come here," says Mark. Mollie's shoulders slump briefly in disappointment, but she strides over to Mark and stands before him, arms at her side, eyes fixed upward on his. Mark chirps, "good girl" as he brushes her hair from her cheek and cups her chin before turning away.

She follows him to the kitchen and stands by the counter, her eyes following Mark as he shuffles about, fixing himself a quick meal. Within a few moments she slumps into a chair and begins examining her hair, eyes still following mark as he moves from fridge to counter.

Finally Mark sits down at the island beside her and Mollie leans into him, her brown hair draping across his chest. Her hand drifts up his thigh but he moves it firmly back to her own thigh. This repeats a few times as he finishes his meal, until she clamps her hand between her own legs as if to restrain it. Her mind wanders, sometimes, but she really does try to be obedient.

Mark slides from his seat, leaving her to steady herself in his absence. Mollie hops down as he the dishes to the sink, and pads into the living room, trailing behind him.