By the time Mike was let down, he was trembling and shaking. His face was red and wet, and he seemed to have given up his fight. In fact, he just sits on the desk, hoping for a moment of relief. But the twine dragging over him doesn't allow it. He's too exhausted to fight it, just letting out whimpers, his face contorted from how much it hurts.

He manages a few breaths once it's done, his shoulders sagging. It was the most relief he'd felt since this began. He might be leaking, but at least he wasn't being squeezed.

But that relief is short lived as Hadad gives the order. He of course doesn't comply, looking up in startled confusion. He tries to avoid the hand, but bound as he is, he can't move much. Horror follows, seeing the cup. It's to his lips before he can protest. He coughs and sputters, fighting with all he had to get free of it.