Brianna shivered. "I'm not sure I can do that," she said, shifting uncomfortably. "Doesn't it hurt a lot? I'm not one of those girls who gets off on a lot of pain." She twitched when James reached over and tweaked one of her nipples again.

"Did that hurt?" he asked, rubbing the palm of his hand over the offended area. "The pain from piercing only lasts a few seconds. It does take some time to heal, but many women enjoy the sensation of something dangling there all the time. And there are chains and charms to wear...I'd get you an exquisite set, of course." He smiled up at her, his finger circling her sensitized skin.

Realizing he hadn't actually hurt her, she shook her head. "No, it didn't hurt - you just surprised me." She started to speak, then stopped, caught in a wave of doubt. Drew had considered the scars he put on her back as his personal mark of ownership along with the collar she'd worn. She knew some Masters branded thier slaves, and some used piercing...so did James wanting to pierce her mean he wanted to keep her? He had referred to them as his rings. Or was it just another fetish he liked? She feared his answer if he took it the wrong way.

Her skin cooled as he backed away and her cheeks grew warm as she realized her attention had wandered too far astray. Crawling up the bed on his hands and knees, he settled beside her with his back against the headboard and drew her close under one arm. She laid her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he stroked her shoulder with his other hand.

"Tell me what's on your mind, Brianna. Whatever it is, I want to know, even if you don't think I'll like it." He traced a finger across the raised marks on her back, holding her still when she would have pulled away. "I will never punish you for telling me the truth. Communication between us is vital."

She nodded, deciding it was better to find out whether he was telling the truth now than later.

"If you pierce me, what does that mean, exactly? I mean, do you intend to...keep me, then? Or are they just a way to enhance my body for your temporary enjoyment?"

She felt him lean his head back as his chest moved under her head. His fingers stroked lightly over her skin, a comforting yet arousing touch. Closing her eyes, she waited, glad to be sheilded from that intense stare of his.

"I thought we'd already settled that," he said, his tone mellow. "I asked you to stay, and you agreed, did you not?"

She nodded. "Yes, but I thought that was just for today. For this." She gently ran her hand over his belly to grasp his cock through his pants. "I didn't realize you were asking me to stay for good. You barely know me, after all. And I haven't exactly been very nice to you lately..."

  He chuckled and placed a kiss on the top of her head. "You've had a lot to deal with lately. Serious stuff. And it's not going to go away overnight. But I want you, Brianna - in my house, and in my bed. I can't say why, but it...this feels right to me. But it's up to you, of course. If you want to leave, I'll take you wherever you want to go."

---

---

Brianna opened her legs, spreading them wide for her master's pleasure. She watched as he knelt at the foot of the bed, his eyes raking over her damp pussy, one finger trailing between her neather lips. He'd called her a slave, yet...she didn't feel humiliated or uncomfortable as she had when Drew had used the same term. Perhaps it was the gentle note in his voice, or the desire in his gaze, but it was different with James. She found herself wanting to be owned, wanting to be kept by him for his personal use.

His stare found hers and she looked away, sure he could read her most private thoughts. He pulled his hand away and she looked back, earning a delicious swirl of the thumb on her too-sensitive clit.

She closed her eyes, arching into his touch, but he withheld yet again until her lashes fluttered open. One digit pushed into her pulsing sheath, rewarding her attention. She nodded, holding eye contact as he crooked his finger and massaged her most sensitive spot, his movements winding her higher and higher until she thought she would burst.

"Please Master," she breathed, her hips moving in time to his ministrations. "May I come?" 
 
He watched her for a moment, making her wait. She slowed her motions, worried that he'd deny her. It was what Drew would have done. Had done, for months at a time.

She looked away in defeat.

"You don't trust me yet." His soft words drew her back, and she bit her bottom lip, unsure whether he wanted an answer or not. His finger still moved inside her, stroking, and she shook her head.

"I'm sorry." She started to back away, stopped only when his thumb nestled in her slit, capturing her tightly in his grasp.

"No," he said, reaching up with his other hand to stroke her face even as his thumb circled lazily over her burning flesh. "You've nothing to apologize for." He thrust harder, faster, bringing her back to the brink. "Come, Brianna. Now."

She cried out, her muscles stiffening as a powerful orgasm ripped through her body. Her head fell back, her chest arching as her hips came off the bed. It was like nothing she'd felt in a very long time, maybe not ever, and she struggled to hold on as it carried her away. A finger touched her lips and she opened, drawing it inside to taste her own juices mingled with the flavor of the Master's skin. Greedily she suckled, laving with her tongue and whimpering as he withdrew. The damp digit trailed over her chin and down her neck, stopping just between her tender breasts. Moving to the side, it circled a nipple, then joined another finger to pinch and pull. A sharp nip at her other nipple made her cry out again, and she finally opened her eyes to find him watching her.

"You are beautiful," he said, swirling his tongue around the tip of her breast. "I want to paint you. Just as you are now, your skin glistening and passion in your eyes. But first..." he flicked the tip of a nipple with one finger. "I want to pierce these. I want you to wear my rings." 

---

---

Euphoria mixed with caution as the title of Master rolled off her lips. James was already hard, but seeing her kneel before him, her eyes cast down, her beautifully shaped breasts thrust out as she arched her back...

Breathtaking.

 "Good," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Now stand and remove your clothes, then kneel again."

Brianna hesitated only briefly before she rose to her feet and began to disrobe. He sensed her apprehension, saw her fingers trembling as she undid the buttons but he offered no words of encouragement. She needed to do this on her own, needed to submit willingly and fully for the healing to begin.

Inch by alabaster inch of skin made his blood thrum as she unveiled herself, small, creamy breasts tipped with pale peach nipples, a slender torso curving down to a perfect hourglass flare at her hips, the smooth mound of her shaven labia. Her scent filled the room, and he breathed her in, noting the spots of color that flared high on her cheeks at his obvious interest. She folded her clothes neatly and placed them on a chair, giving him a lovely view of her tight ass and the pouty lips between her legs before she returned to him. Lowering herself to the floor, she assumed the proper position again and waited for his next command.

James couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted to see a mouth around his cock so badly.
"Suck me off," he said, his throat raspy with need. "And look at me while you do it."

Wide, innocent-looking eyes turned upward to meet his gaze as she reached out to brush her fingers over his groin. She held his gaze as she freed his cock, her touch feather-light as she grasped his sensitive skin.

Opening her mouth, she placed his shaft on her tongue, letting it lay there for a moment as he pulsed with need. When her lips finally closed around the tip, sucking him inside little by little until he felt the back of her throat, he groaned, fighting for the first time in years to hold on to his control.

She knew it, the little minx - her eyes couldn't lie. He grasped the sides of her head, threading his fingers through her gorgeous curls and holding her still while he used her mouth. She didn't fight, didn't even gag when he pushed deep, her eyes never wavering from his as her tongue caressed his length.

He came hard and fast, squirting cum down her throat faster than she could swallow. The thought of his seed filling her belly only made his climax longer, and he shuddered with the intensity as he finally released her, falling back against the wall for support. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back as he focused on catching his breath. His mind whirled with the possibilities - if he was so affected by only her mouth, what would it be like to bury himself between her legs?

Raising his head, he looked down to find her maintaining position, her head tilted back. Drops of his cum lay on her breasts, a temporary mark of his ownership. How he'd love to see thick gold rings behind those hard nipples, fitting anchors for a chain and his personal charm.

All in good time.

"On your feet," he said, gentling his voice as he offered her a hand. She accepted his help, wincing ever so slightly. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, Sir. My knees just got a little sore. They'll be fine."

He pulled her close, and leaned down to place a kiss on her lips, tasting himself on her tongue. Walking her backwards, he crowded her against the bed. Helping her to sit, he stepped back for a moment, studying the image before him. She would make a wonderful subject, and he knew just where he wanted the painting to hang.

Later.

"Lay down on your back, head on the pillows, arms and legs spread. Open yourself for me, slave."

---

---

When she heard a key scrape in the lock, Brianna jumped to her feet. Heart pounding, she ran across the room and ducked down behind a large wingback chair. Her head told her it could only be James, but what if Drew had taken the key? She couldn't stop trembling as the door opened slowly and someone stepped inside.

It was James. She knew it the moment his scent wafted past her nose. She'd rarely reacted to a man's scent before, but he always smelled warm and comforting.

Safe.

"Brianna?"

She stood up without speaking, waiting for him to look her way. When his eyes met hers, she automatically lowered her gaze. Realizing immediately what she'd done, she looked up again, forcing herself to hold that intense stare as he moved to stand in front of the chair. There was no censure on his face, only the hint of a smile playing at his lips, and...something else she couldn't quite name.

He held out his hand. "Come with me. I have something to show you."

She couldn't touch him. His energy already hummed just under her skin, enticing her, making her want what she suspected only he could give. She wanted to take what he offered, to let him banish the constant chill that wrapped her heart. He could, she was sure of it. But the price still gave her pause.

Sidling out from behind the chair, she pointedly ignored his hand. "What is it?" she asked, her voice far less steady than she'd prefer. When he reached for her again, she backed away.

"I can't."

He shook his head. "You won't." His narrowed look was a challenge, one she dared not take.

"Is Ceilia okay?"

He pointed toward the open connecting doors. "She's fine - see for yourself."

Brianna walked past him through the doors, only vaguely aware of him following. When she stepped out into her bedroom she gasped, her hands coming up to her cheeks as she backed up as quickly as she could.

Into his embrace.

His arms wrapped around her like a security blanket, and she accepted it gratefully as she stared at Andrew, lying on the floor with his wrists and ankles bound. It took a few seconds for the fact that his eyes were closed to sink in, but she was still apprehensive about being in the same room with her abuser.

In that moment, she realized that she trusted James with her life, as hard as she fought against it. Here, standing in the circle of his arms with her back pressed against him, she felt like nothing could touch her. Even shocked as she was at the sight of Drew, she could be strong with James there to support her.

He'd bound her to him without even trying, damn him.

A small noise drew her attention to the side, and Brianna turned her head to see Celia watching them, a sympathetic smile on her face. She stepped closer, and Brianna saw the damaged fingers, rushing to her side.

"Oh no...he did this?" She reached out to touch Celia's hand, then drew back, afraid she'd only cause more pain. "You need a doctor. I'm so sorry. It's my fault for being here. I..."

"Hush now," Celia said, patting Brianna's arm with her good hand. "I'll be good as new in a few weeks, you'll see. I'm just glad he won't be bothering you anymore." She looked over Brianna's shoulder at James. "I'll just find someone downstairs to come get him, if that's okay with you."

"The gardener should be out back - he should be able to handle it."

Celia nodded, then turned back to Brianna. "Freedom is a fallacy, no matter what lifestyle you choose. Don't let your fear get in the way of your happiness." She leaned in for a brief hug and then walked away, leaving Brianna with James and Drew, who was beginning to stir on the floor.

Large, strong fingers slipped into hers as James took her hand, gently pulling her back through the connecting doors to his room. Closing and locking his, he leaned against it, regarding her with a thoughtful look.

"I don't want you to go," he said, crossing his arms over that muscular chest. "Stay with me."

She hesitated, preparing herself for the inevitable before lowering her gaze to the floor.

"Is that an order?"

"Look at me." She raised her head to meet his eyes. The intensity in his stare was almost too much, but she held firm as he continued. "Do you want it to be?"

Brianna felt something inside herself loosen and she dropped to her knees at his feet, thighs spread, hands clasped behind her back in submissive position.

"Yes...Master," she whispered.

---

---

James took the stairs as fast as he could, adrenaline shooting up as he heard a woman cry out. If that bastard hurt a hair on Brianna's head...

When he reached her room, the door was hanging open and Drew was standing over Celia where she lay on the floor clutching one hand. A quick glance around the room revealed no sign of Brianna.

"Get away from her," James growled, stalking into the room. "If you have any last requests, now's the time. I told you what would happen if I ever saw you again." He advanced on the shorter man, a sense of calm coming over him at the thought of finally giving this man a taste of the fear he'd given Brianna. Drew knew he was in trouble - James could see it in the other man's eyes. But that didn't keep him from running straight at James.

Too bad.

Easily catching the punch Drew threw in one hand, James led off with a wide hook that caught Drew square on the cheekbone, knocking him to the side and leaving him splayed face-down over the back of the couch. Grabbing his collar, James pulled him up, and then sent a hook up to connect with his chin, followed by a jab to the stomach as he opened his grip. Drew fell to the ground, his face a mask of pain and fury as he struggled back to his feet.

"That bitch is mine," he growled, holding his stomach. "I'm not leaving without her, and you can't stop me. I own her fair and square." He pulled a piece of paper from his jacket and held it out. "There's the contract she signed. Read it for yourself."

James took the folded sheet and tore it in half, letting it drop to the floor.

"You want her? You have to go through me first, and that ain't happening. As a matter of fact, I think it's time you learned what it's like to be a real slave, don't you?" He peered around Drew at Celia, who had moved to stand by the fireplace. She was holding one hand against her chest, her white suit stained dark red.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded, the fiery anger in her eyes reassuring.

"Know of anyone who might take this guy off our hands, maybe even out of the country?"

Celia hesitated for a moment, then nodded again. "Actually, I know just the person, though I wish I didn't." She pulled out her cell phone and punched in a few numbers, then held it up to her ear. "Raoul? I've got one for you. No, this one's on the house - a gift, if you will. You can pick him up at the club in an hour, if that works for you. Bring a few guys...he's...dense." She hung up the phone, a mixture of distaste and irritation replacing the anger on her face.

"It's all set. Can you bundle him up for me?"

James nodded, advancing on the other man. Drew stepped back several feet, until his back hit the wall.

"What are you doing? What was that about?"

"This will only hurt for a minute," James said, drawing his fist back and hitting the man right between the eyes. Drew went down again, out cold this time, and James stretched his aching fingers.

"I'll tie him up. Go get Brianna. I want her to see this." He got a coil of rope from the nightstand and started binding Drew's wrists, glancing up to see Celia still standing in place. She cocked one eyebrow up at him.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? She'll want to know what's happening - and I doubt she'll agree with your choice."

James moved to Drew's ankles. "She doesn't need to know the details. She needs to know that he isn't a threat anymore, that he won't be able to hurt her."

Celia shook her head. "You'll have to tell her. She won't trust you if you refuse - you know that."

Finished, James stood and walked over to look at her hand. "Those fingers are broken - you won't be weilding a whip anytime soon."

"I know. Better me than her, judging by the look on your face right now." She met his expectant stare for a long moment before giving in with a sigh. "Fine. She's in your bedroom. Don't be stupid, James."

He waved her off as he opened the first adjoining door. "You, of all people, should trust me by now. I've got this." 

---

---

"Do you remember what you said to me that first night at the club?"

Brianna shrugged. She sat with one leg dangling over the arm of the antique chair James had sat in earlier, her stomach in knots. Thinking back to the day she'd wandered into Celia's club, it seemed like a lifetime ago. She'd been scared but excited, assuming it would just be a couple nights of experimentation and then she'd go back to her normal life. But she'd wanted the full experience, so she'd talked a good game. Too good, apparently. Celia had set her up a couple times, and things had gone a lot farther than she'd expected, but something had awakened inside her. She couldn't seem to walk away. And then Andrew came along...

Celia stood and walked over to the fireplace, turning to face Brianna.

"You told me you were looking for something different. A relationship where you didn't have to make any decisions, and you could just be taken care of. Do you still want that?"

"I lied," Brianna confessed, looking at the floor. "I'd just read some books about bondage - love stories, really - and I wanted to see what it was all about. I just wanted to have some fun, and then go back home. I never dreamed it would go this far."

Heels clicked firmly across the floor until they appeared in her line of vision. Brianna looked up at her friend.

"We'll deal with that later, but the question still stands. Do you or do you not want a man who will care of you?" Celia asked, her voice colder. Harder.

Dom-like.

Brianna shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I won't put myself in danger again, and there's no way to ever be completely sure with this lifestyle."

Celia tossed her hands up and walked away. "There's no way to be completely sure in any lifestyle, Brianna. Even vanilla guys can be cruel, rotten bastards, and sometimes you just don't know until it's too late. What are you going to do - move to a convent? Be alone the rest of your life? Even that won't keep you one hundred percent safe, so I'd love to know what your plan is because from where I'm standing, you're just reaching for excuses."

"You're right," Brianna said quietly, picking at her nails. "But at least out there, it's my choice. I don't have to worry about being sold or traded or passed around...the worst a vanilla guy can do is beat me or leave me. And at least if he beats me, I can call the cops."

Celia shrugged. "Sure, if he doesn't kill you." She knelt down, taking Brianna's hands. "If you really want to go back to a vanilla lifestyle, I won't stop you. But there's a reason I asked James to help you - him, specifically. And I think if you just gave it a chance--"

Footsteps pounded in the hall outside, and Celia stood up, pulling Brianna to her feet. Brianna started toward the door, but Celia held her back, tugging her toward the door near the fireplace.

"Come on - you need to hide, just in case." She opened the door and pushed Brianna through. "Lock it, and don't come out. James has a key."

Her fingers shaking, Brianna flipped the deadbolt shut, and then felt for the doorknob behind her, hoping James hadn't locked his side. The knob turned and she went through, closing and locking that door as well.

Leaning against the door, she squeezed her eyes shut as she listened. A loud thud followed by a familiar male shout in the other room made her twitch, and when Celia cried out, Brianna sank to the floor and hugged her knees to her chest.

---

---

James heard the front door open as he went down the main staircase, and smiled as Celia stepped into the foyer. Tall and lanky, she was elegant and proper in a demure white pantsuit, her dark hair tamed in some sort of mysterious roll that went up the back of her head. The average person would never guess that she owned one of the hottest BDSM nightclubs in the city, or that she played dominatrix to some of the most influential men in town. Not that she'd ever reveal her client list, but James had met her shortly after she came to town, and he'd done what he could to help her get established. She looked up and smiled as he joined her.

"Hello, James. I thought I'd stop in and see how our girl is doing today. Is she...available?" She winked, but her grin faded as he nodded his head.

"She's intent on staying available, it seems." He glanced toward her room. "I've done everything I can, Celia. She won't listen to me. She wants to - I can feel it, but she doesn't trust her own judgment. Honestly, I don't know if there's anything else we can do - just let her go, and see what happens."

Celia pursed her lips in a fake pout. "Oh, come on now. You and I both know you're not giving up on her. I sense there's something more going on between you two...a bond, perhaps? Would you keep her if she let you?"

James shook his head with a half-hearted chuckle. "You know that's not how I work. Nice try though. If you can talk some sense into her, I'll make sure she's ready for the next Dom. No more, no less." A twinge jolted him somewhere near the center of his chest, but he ignored it. Celia simply smiled and patted his arm.

"You just keep telling yourself that, James. I'll go visit Brianna. Which room?"

"Second on the left."

He watched her go up the stairs, her movements silky smooth, like a cat. "Hey, why haven't you ever paired up with a sub?"

She stopped briefly to look at him. "I haven't found the right one yet." With a wink, she continued up the stairs and disappeared into the hallway.

James shook his head then turned to Angie. "I have a few friends coming over - they should be here any minute. When they arrive, will you show them to the blue parlor? And do be hospitable - they're all expecting lip service to start."

She lowered her eyes obediently. "Yes Master." The doorchimes rang, and James walked away before she could open the door, stepping into his office and closing the door. The three men he'd invited were all interested in taking ownership of Angie, and he wanted to see how she reacted to them both individually and collectively before he made the choice for her. Watching through the slim panel of one-way mirrored glass near the top of the door, he watched as the first man entered. He'd told the men they could each try her out, and it wasn't long before she was on her knees in front of Mike Hammond, her lips wrapped around his substantial cock. She had a skilled mouth, James knew, and with the tricks he'd taught her, Mike came all over her chest in short order. Angie led him out of the room, and returned soon after, the evidence of her obedience still marking her breasts.

"Good girl," he murmured, glancing at the clock. Ryan was the next to arrive - James' favorite choice for her. He, too, requested and recieved a blow job, though he didn't bother to pull out of her throat, and Angie swallowed eagerly. When she stood, Ryan gave her nipples a tug and they both laughed before she showed him to the parlor.

Shawn should be the last to arrive, and James noted he was right on time when the chimes rang. Angie opened the door and then fell to the floor as a man pushed her out of the way and ran through the foyer to the staircase.

---

---

Brianna sighed. "And what if the Master's needs aren't healthy for the slave?" She didn't address the comment to anyone in particular, half-expecting the standard master knows best in all cases line that had been drilled into her from the beginning.

"Speak freely, Angie," James said, focusing on his plate. Brianna turned to the woman standing behind her. The neutral expression melted away, and Angie smiled, her eyes soft.

"Submissives have a responsibility to choose their Master wisely, but sometimes the choice is not theirs. If the slave feels mistreated, the only recourse is to appeal to another Dom or someone outside the household for help." 

Brianna shook her head, turning back to the table. "Good luck with that," she murmured, pushing food around her plate but unable to make herself eat. She'd tried asking other Doms who visited Drew for help several times, but none of them would take her seriously. It was only when Celia witnessed Drew beating her after losing his temper at the Wicked Whip that anyone had cared enough to do something. To help her. Setting her fork aside, Brianna pushed back from the table.

"I think I'll go back to my room," she said, refusing to meet James' gaze as she stood. When he didn't object, she turned and walked out, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something wasn't right, and it had to be this place, these surroundings. Staying here was no better than being at Drew's, really. Someone else still controlled her, albeit not as tightly. She reached her room and shut herself inside, drawn to the window where she stared out at the quiet neighborhood.

It was odd, remembering that she'd been living a life like most of those people probably did just a few months ago. She'd had a good job, a nice apartment and enough money to do a little shopping on the weekends. The men she dated were nice with very few exceptions, but none of them had ever connected with her on a deeper level. Would it have mattered, she wondered?

The door behind her opened and she twitched, turning to see James close it again. He took a seat in one of the armchairs facing her. She waited for him to speak, but he just sat quietly, watching with those cool eyes. Brianna felt like a bug under a microscope.

"What do you want?" she asked, when her nerves couldn't handle the silent assessment any longer. He shrugged, leaning forward to brace his forearms on his knees.

"I'm more interested in what you want right now."

She laughed. "You're a Dom. Why would you care what I or any woman wants? It's all about you - isn't that kind of the point?" She knew she was being overly dramatic, that she was allowing her experience to color her view of the lifestyle, but she couldn't seem to help herself. The hurt had nowhere else to go, and James was as good a target as any.

She tensed, watching for any sign that he was upset. But he leaned back in the chair with a sigh.

"You've been through hell, Brianna - I realize that. And you should know that what you went through isn't nearly as bad as some girls have it. You got out. Some women never do." He paused, and she knew he wanted her to acknowledge the truth in his words, but she just waited.

"How many Doms did you know before you went to live with Drew?"

She slowly held up two fingers, hating to admit her lack of experience.

 "And did they both treat you like he did?"

Brianna looked at the floor. "No."

"Have I treated you badly in the short time you've known me?"

She shook her head, wishing he'd just go away. "I get the point. Not all Doms are bad, I know. But you guys do get whatever you want, whenever you want it. You're always in control."

"That's because we need to be. The bond between Dom and submissive is a symbiotic one, Brianna. Submissives need to serve...they won't ever be happy unless they can fulfil that need. A Dom needs to control...but without a submissive, he can't fulfil that need. Neither can be happy without the other one - they work together so they both get what they need." He got up and walked to her, placing a finger under her chin and raising her face until she looked into his eyes.

"It is about me, but not the way you think. The only way I get what I need is if you get what you need."

Brianna trembled, the intensity in his eyes pinning her in place. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to sink to her knees and take his cock in her mouth, and her cheeks burned with the mental image her brain conjured up. Surely he knew what she was thinking, and she waited for that triumphant grin, but he only leaned closer.

"What do you want, Brianna?" Little more than a breath, his whispered question caressed her lips, a tantalizing promise she so badly wanted to accept. But at what price?

"I...I'm not sure," she stammered, pulling away, the tight connection between them breaking into tiny shards. "I'm sorry." She turned her back to him, the view from the window reminding her of her ultimate goal, though this time it didn't look quite so blissful.

"Very well," he said, his voice cool behind her. "I won't ask you again. If you need me, you know where to find me."

---

---

The next morning, James watched Brianna sleep, her hair spread out over the pillow in beautifully deep red waves. Pushing her last night had been a mistake - one that might cost him her trust for good. He was anxious to find out, knowing if he couldn't help her, she'd need someone who could within the next few days as what she'd done, and what she was trying to do really started to sink in. Right now she was still in shock, still in escape mode. But that would wear off soon enough, and she'd struggle on her own if he couldn't gain her trust.

He went back through the door that connected their rooms, and quietly closed the door. Most of the submissives who came or were brought to him weren't fighting what they were. They'd already embraced the lifestyle, and looked to him for guidance. Brianna was different. She hadn't even had a chance to experience a true submissive role, only the role of an abused slave. Leaning back against the door, he knew she was going to be his greatest challenge.

 He'd told her he would help, and now she'd need to come to him before they could proceed. How and when she did that would tell him everything he needed to know. Crossing the room, he got the ring of keys from his nightstand and went out into the hall. Slipping the key into the lock on her door, he turned it gently to release the thick deadbolt. Once it clicked back into place, he returned to his room, got fresh clothing for the day and went to take a shower.


Twenty minutes later, he went downstairs to the dining room, and took his place at the head of the table. Nodding to the three ladies who stood patiently behind thier chairs, he waited until they were seated and then rang a silver bell beside his plate. Two serving girls came out to set platters of food on the table and then one filled James's plate while the other served the women at the table. When they were finished, they stood off to the side, hands behind thier backs and bare breasts thrust forward.

"Angie, please go let our guest know that breakfast is on the table, if she wishes to join us. If she prefers, she can--" He stopped, raising an eyebrow as Brianna shyly peeked around the corner of the doorway. "Nevermind, Angie. Brianna, would you like to join us?"

She stepped into the room, her hands clasped together as she took in the scene.  "I'm sorry to interrupt, I just smelled the food and thought..."

James motioned to the empty chair on his right. "Please, come eat. There's plenty."

She moved toward him and sat down as Angie retrieved another place setting from the china cabinet and set it before her. James noted the quick glances Brianna made at the other women's pierced nipples, and the chain hanging between them as Angie reached across the table to spoon fruit on her plate.

"Oh...I can do that," Brianna said, reaching for the spoon. James put a hand on her arm, shaking his head when she looked up.

"It's Angie's day to serve. Let her."

He restrained a smile as Brianna sat back in her chair, waiting until Angie stepped back to reach for her fork. Glancing at James, then the others at the table, she set it back down, nervously chewing at her lower lip.

James took his time settling a napkin on his lap, and then picked up his own utensil.

"Brianna, please feel free to eat anytime. The others must wait until I'm done, but you are here as a guest." He tucked in to his plate, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She picked up her fork again, took a small bite, then laid it down.

"Why do you make them wait?" she asked, patting the corner of her mouth with her napkin. James looked at Angie, inclining his head slightly.

"Because he's Master," Angie said.  "And Master's needs come first."

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Brianna yanked out of James's grasp, stumbling as she rolled off the bed. She should have known. Why had she trusted him so easily? Why hadn't she run when she had the chance?

Maybe he's right.

She shook her head, banishing the unwanted thought. No. She would not be submissive any longer. Even if he beat her for it.

"This was a huge mistake," she said, eying the bathroom door, and wishing she was wearing something more than the robe. "I need to leave. Now. Just let me get my clothes and I'll go. It's dark out, so if I'm careful..."

James was off the bed and blocking her path before she could finish. He didn't touch her, but she knew that look in his cold eyes. He was angry. She reached out to grab the bed post, anchoring herself. James was far bigger than Drew, and she hoped it would be over quickly.

"You're not going anywhere. Get up on the bed. Now."

Brianna shook her head and looked down, waiting for whatever her punishment would be. After a few long moments, she peeked up through her eyelashes, wondering what was taking so long. He hadn't moved an inch, and she slowly raised her head to look at him.

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. If you really want to sleep on the floor, it's up to you. I promised your friend I'd keep you safe, and that's what I intend to do, like it or not. If you need me, knock on that door over there." He pointed to the small door by the fireplace, then turned on his heel and left her room. She heard the lock click after him, and she couldn't help but run to the door and try the knob.

"He locked me in."

She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest, chewing on her lip as she looked at the bed. In her mind she saw the tiny apartment she should have been in, it's low, single bed pushed against the wall of the main room, the bathroom barely big enough to turn around in, and the kitchen consisting of one long counter behind a flimsy partition next to a seventies-gold color refridgerator. The one with all the lovely food she'd picked out herself.

Then she saw herself asleep on the cot as Drew kicked the flimsy door in and hauled her back to his mansion.

Her cell.

James hadn't hurt her. He hadn't come close, even when he was angry. He'd locked her in, but...she turned to examine the tall, imposing door with thick metal hardware, and she was absolutely certain that if Drew did manage to gain access to the house, he'd never get through that door. Almost against her will, her gaze went to the adjoining smaller portal, and the fact that her appointed protector slept on the other side was surprisingly comforting.

A wide yawn escaped her lips, and she walked to the bed and pulled the covers back, remembering James's command. He'd wanted her on the bed, and the new-found rebel wanted to resist, but the girl who'd spent the last few months sleeping on hay crawled slowly, reverently between the sheets. It was so soft she nearly cried again from the luxury. Laying her head on a cloud-like pillow, she closed her eyes, his voice in her head lulling her to sleep.

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