Derek exhaled, disappointed, but also worried. One hand on Stiles' hip was covering the brand, and his thumb traced the pattern. "She needs a Master," he said, helplessly, hoping beyond hope that Stiles would be sympathetic. "She was taught to crave it. Sex. And pain. Even if she's struggling against it, her body wants it, and I...." he swallowed again. "...I think I can help," he finished, lamely.