Executive Orders (closed for Momadness)

"Don't you dare.... don't you DARE try and defend that man for what he did to you!"

Samantha glared icy daggers at Max, jabbing her finger in his direction. "You shut the fuck up! I don't have to defend Everett, our relationship or anything we do to you, or anyone else."

Stopping to take a breath and push down the raging anger she was feeling toward Max, she buried it deep under a fresh layer of icy calm. "But I didn't come here to speak to you about Everett. I came to talk about Bailey." She recognised the pained expression, the concern and hint of guilt in his suddenly downcast eyes and hunched shoulders, but she didn't let that slow her down. "You've probably succeeded in ruining forever any chance she had at the most important relationship a young girl can have… the one with her father. Bailey is the real loser in this. Thanks to you."

She let that sink in a moment before adding softly, "and me." As angry as she was with Max, she knew that she carried her fair share of this mess. She should never have gone to him. Should never have told anyone. That much was on her.

"Fool that I am, I let Everett convince me that there were people in this world I could trust. People I could love. That I didn't need to be alone my whole life. I should have known better."

Max looked up, opening his mouth to speak… to deny… but Samantha waved off whatever he was going to say, continuing on. "Now who is going to suffer for Everett's generosity of spirit? He is. And that poor, beautiful little girl." She blinked back tears, pulling the icy calm back around her like a protective shroud. "And that suffering can be laid at your door. And mine."

Max slammed his fist on the table, shaking his head with a growl of denial.

"No!" Samantha shoved her chair back, standing up and jabbing her finger in his direction. "It's too late for protests or denials. You need to face up to your responsibility in this." She paced away to the door and slowly turned back, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I only have one other thing to say to you." She locked eyes with him, icy calm. "You should know, I had a little discussion of my own with the police back home. I told them that Illian beats you. Rapes you. Keeps you in chains."

Max gasped, mouth dropping open, fists slamming against the table, but Samantha paid no attention.

"They've arrested her and confiscated everything in your home. Pictures, toys, whips… all of it." She was guessing, but the look on his face made it clear enough that she was right.

"WHAT?!" he thundered.

"No," she bit back, "don't try to tell me you love her. That's not possible, remember? You're battered. Abused. You can't know how you feel."

"It's not the same fucking thing!!"

"Isn't it?" She smiled, a cold, icy grin that didn't reach her eyes. "Good-bye Max. Have a nice life, now that you're free of Illian." She turned and walked out the interrogation room door, hearing Max's bellowed "Dammit! NOOOO!" behind her.

In the outer waiting area, she walked up to Illian, smiling sadly at her. "Do me a favour? Let him stew a bit before you go in and see him?"

Illian sighed. "I never would have imagined it when he brought you home, dear," she laid a hand on Samantha's trembling arm, "but you've got the makings of a truly vicious Domme in there."

Samantha's eyes widened. "No," she whispered, blushing. "A wicked bitch maybe, but not a Domme. Ever. Once I might've happily spent the rest of my life as someone's sub… but that's over now." She allowed Illian to pull her into a hug. "Whether or not you two manage to reconcile with Everett, I won't likely see you again." She returned the hug with a squeeze of her own. "Thank you for everything you tried to do for me. I know you meant well."

Illian pulled back, concern shining in her eyes. "Where are you going to go?"

Samantha sighed. "I've been subpoenaed for Everett's custody case, so not far… for now. After that, who knows? Maybe it's time to retire and disappear from public life for a while." She smiled sadly. "Good-bye, Illian."

--

Linda sat in the bedside chair, glancing worriedly from Bailey to the door Everett disappeared through and back again. Bailey hadn't taken her eyes off the script in her hands even once.

"You really should send her a thank you," she prodded.

Bailey sighed, looking up at Linda. "How? I don't know where…"

Linda raised her eyebrows, leaning a bit closer. "You know, your Dad probably has her number."

Bailey scowled, hunching down in the bed.

Linda sighed. "He's just trying to do what's best for you, you know."

Pouting, Bailey shot back. "How does he know what's best for me? He doesn't even know me!"

"And whose fault is that?" Linda spoke sternly, pinning the girl with a frown. "When was the last time you talked to him? Offered him anything more than pouts and growls and obstinate attitude?"

"He left us!"

"He's not a saint, Bay. NO one is. He's just a man, trying to do the best he can for his daughter. Maybe you need to think about giving him a chance." Linda's eyes dropped to the script in Bailey's hands. "Ms. Noelle seemed to think highly of him," she added softly.

Samantha stood outside the chapel door, peeking in the window watching Everett as he slowly made his way to the front of the chapel and fell to his knees, hunching over. She gasped, one hand covering her mouth as she laid the other against the chapel door as she watched the man she loved break down in heart-wrenching sobs.

The need to go to him, wrap her arms around him, offer him whatever small comfort she could, was nearly impossible to resist. An almost physical pain.

She stood like that for what felt like hours, chest tight, her own tears flowing unchecked.

When she saw him finally ease back up, so downcast, so defeated she could not resist the need to follow him. She ducked around the corner, just out of sight as he left the chapel. He didn't look up, just shuffled off slowly down the hall, hunched as if in physical pain.

She was still following, as close as she dared, when he entered the hotel lobby. Biting her lip, she realised suddenly she didn't know his room number. She couldn't very well share his elevator.

Tempted for a moment, Samantha almost called Detective Kendrick to quiz him for the room number, but she could just imagine his reaction to that. He had, in fact, made it clear that it would be in her best interest to stay away from Everett until the investigation was resolved.

She peeked over between the large palm fronds half-hiding her to catch a glimpse of Everett in the mirrored wall behind the front desk. His eyes were red and swollen, pain etched his expression.

He spoke quietly to the concierge. "Are there any messages for me? Everett Johnson. Room 425." He seemed to show the barest flicker of hope until the answer returned in the negative. His shoulders slumped in defeat as he thanked him and headed to the elevator.

Samantha hesitated. Room 425. Did she dare?

Just one more night. That was all. One more night. One last chance to make a memory that would have to last her the rest of her life. One chance to say good-bye. Then she would let him go. Let him make a life for himself and Bailey. Somewhere safe and far away from her.

She needed this.

And maybe, so did he.

Samantha stepped into the elevator and pressed '4'. Within minutes she was standing in front of Room 425, hand raised to knock, heart pounding. One minute ticked by… two… three… her hand frozen mere inches from the door.

The elevator dinged and she jumped, startled. A young couple sprang apart as the door slid open, hair and clothing mussed as they turned down the hallway, arm-in-arm, hurrying into a room 5 doors down.

She sighed, turning back toward Everett's door, lifting her hand again. Biting her lip, she drew a deep breath and knocked.

Heart pounding, ready to turn tail and run, Samantha stepped back… one step… two…

She heard the chain jangle, locks click and with a rush of air, the door swung open.

Her heart stuttered in her chest, her eyes wide. He was there, in front of her. Staring. Clad in only a towel and flip flops, his skin glistened, damp from the shower he'd clearly just stepped out of.

She had no words, her heart filling her throat. He was barely a half step away. Her Master. Her love. And she stood still. Frozen.

His shoulders slumped, that defeated look she was beginning to hate creeping over him.

With a short little cry, Samantha grabbed at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she curled her fingers through his hair, pulling him down to meet her lips in a whimpering kiss full of want and need and love.

He stood stock still, momentarily stunned as she devoured his mouth. Then, slowly, his arms lifted, dragging her closer, one hand wrapping around her hip, the other grasping her breast.

Pain tweaked through her and Samantha pulled back with a cry. This was a mistake! She couldn't hide… couldn't explain… oh god! She should never have come! "No. I-I can't… I shouldn't have…"

She turned to run, barely making three steps before a hard hand grabbed her arm, dragging her back toward the still open door. "No! Let me go! Everett, please!"

Samantha's mind raced. Why didn't she think of this sooner? She couldn't strip in front of Everett! He would see the bruising, the welts… the piercings! There was no way to hide them and no way to explain. She couldn't tell him the truth. And Everett, of all people, would know if she tried to lie to him. From the very beginning, he'd always known when she was lying.

"Everett… ple-…" Her whispered plea was cut off as he squeezed tighter around her neck warningly.

She pressed her eyes closed, silent tears leaking from the corners, trailing down her cheeks. "Master," she choked out, "please… let me go."

His body pressed against hers, forcing her deeper into the corner. She bit back a moan of mingled pain and pleasure. It felt like so long, so very long, since she felt her Master's arms around her, his hands on her, his cock driving into her. She'd longed for this. Ached for this. Needed this, so much.

And yet the pain of their inevitable separation slashed at her heart, even as the pain of his body crushing into her fresh piercings spiked through her nipples.

She whimpered, pushing against him, but he didn't budge.

He was leaving her no choice.

She bit her lip. Perhaps it was for the best. He would see. He would know. Then he would realise separating was for the best. He would understand why moving on was better for him, and for Bailey. He would stop this insistent pursuit and find himself someone who was worthy of his love.

She couldn't meet his eyes. Couldn't watch the anger, the disgust she was sure would be there once he realised. She twisted her head to the side, staring sightlessly at the city skyline out the window as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, slipping it from her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Reaching back, she unzipped her skirt, shimmying it over her hips and letting it fall to the floor, leaving herself clad only in a softly padded blue bra and high cut panties and heels.

She swallowed, hesitating. "Master… please…"

"Every fucking stitch," he growled his only response to her plea.

Tears dripped off her chin, but she didn't protest any further, reminding herself that it was for the best. He deserved to understand. He deserved to be able to move on with a clear conscience.

Perhaps she might convince him to let her have one more night before they went their separate ways. One more night with the man she loved, but could never deserve.

She reached behind her back, slipping the clasp of the bra free and shrugging it off her shoulders to drop it with the rest of her clothes, quickly bending forward to shimmy off her panties and kick off her heels.

She straightened up, lifting her eyes to the ceiling, her throat tight, waiting for his response.

Samantha sobbed, great heart-wrenching gasps. It was done. It was over now. Everett had seen the truth of her failure. She barely noticed the officers dragging her behind them or Detective Kendrick covering her naked body with a towel.

Only Everett's raging anger registered. Only something wasn't right. Something was off. He was angry at… John? That couldn't be right. That didn't make sense.

"That wouldn't be her fiance John Cena, the world famous wrestler would it? You just threatened to kill a celebrity in the presence of 5 cops?! You stupid stupid man! Somebody get him a robe or something!"

She fought the sobs, gulping for air. This wasn't… they couldn't… arrest Everett? "no," she whispered, then more forcefully, "No."

"Ms. Noelle?" Detective Kendrick tried to lead her aside. "Don't worry. We will get this bastard out of her. He'll be spending a good long time in prison. Your fiancé will be safe."

"No!" Sammy wrenched her arms from the detective's tentative grip and shoved him away as she dove toward the other officers. Grabbing a gun from the startled hands of the closest young officer, she spun and planted herself between Everett and the rest of the gun-wielding police officers, waving the handgun with a trembling, two-handed grip. "Get away from him!"

"Ms. Noelle," Detective Kendrick held up his hands, speaking in a clam, soothing tone. "Everything will be fine. We won't hurt Mr. Johnson. I promise. He is under arrest and we will take him to holding, that's all. He's hurt you and threatened your fiancé…"

"NO!" She waved the gun emphatically. "Stop saying that! John is not my fiancé!" She barely heard the strangled "what?" from behind her, as she shifted her eyes between the nervous cops in front of her. "He's broken off the engagement and I never wanted to marry him in the first place."

"All right, all right," Detective Kendrick soothed. "He's not your fiancé. Nevertheless, Mr. Johnson has threatened him and he's raped you. He is under arrest."

"NO!" Frustration was beginning to colour Samantha's words. "I told you, Everett did NOT do this to me. Everett Johnson has NEVER done anything to me that I didn't consent to! How many times do I have to say it?"

Kendrick opened his mouth to speak, but Samantha cut him off. "John Cena didn't do it either. I was blackmailed and raped by another man entirely. You know that. I told you that. He is currently under investigation in New York."

Everett stepped up closer behind her, whispering, "Sammy."

Several of the officers raised their guns. "Step away from Ms. Noelle, sir!"

Samantha raised the gun she was holding in response. "Get back! Leave him alone!"

"Hold your fire, dammit!" Kendrick shouted to everyone in the room. "Ms. Noelle. I need you to put the gun down before someone gets hurt."

Samantha's eyes darted from cop to cop. "I-… no… I don't trust you. I won't let you take an innocent man to prison!"

"Ms. Noelle, please."

"No!"

"Sammy." The call came from behind her, quiet but filled with the commanding authority that pulled at the deepest core of her being. "Sammy, listen to me. I need you to give Detective Kendrick the gun."

Samantha turned to glance quickly at Everett, before spinning back to watch the officers, shaking her head. "I love you," she whispered. "I need to protect you. It's all I have left."

"Sammy, please," Everett replied. "For me."

Samantha lowered the gun, looking back at Everett. With a tiny nod, she handed the gun to Detective Kendrick.

Kendrick snatched the gun away and stepped back, tossing it back to the officer she'd taken it from. He nodded to the man nearest Everett. "Get the cuffs off him and let's get out of here."

"Detective? What about the assault? The threats?" one of the younger officers questioned hesitantly.

Kendrick just shook his head. "They're all fucking celebrities. They'd never get a conviction anyway. Maybe if we just let them go, they'll get their fucking crazy asses back to New York and leave us all in peace."

"You will stay here pet. I need to wrap this up."

Samantha clutched at the collar of her robe, watching Everett as she nodded slowly, carefully. He stared back at her for a moment and she ducked her head, swiping her fingers over her tear-stained cheeks.

Finally seeming satisfied, he set her shoes and panties on the table and left the room, the door closing behind him with a soft snick.

With a sob of relief, her eyes darted around the room. Still on the fourth floor, her only avenue of escape was out the door. She ran to the table and grabbed up her shoes, slipping them quickly onto her feet.

All her clothes were still with Everett's things, but she couldn't… didn't dare wait for him to return. She needed to escape now. It would be easier for them both. Samantha was sure he would be as relieved to find her gone as she would be to escape the painful reminder of all she'd lost.

She didn't have time to worry about the spectacle she'd create or the publicity nightmare of someone recognising her running from a hotel in only a robe. Or even where she intended to go. Escape was her only thought. All that mattered in this moment.

She had to go. Now.

She eased the door open, peeking into the hallway. Unfortunately, reaching the elevator would mean passing the broken door to Everett's former room. She could hear him talking to hotel management from here. That direction was not an option.

That left the stairwell.

She slipped out the door and made a dash for it, hurrying down the stairs. She breathed a sigh of relief as she rounded the first flight.

She heard the door slam open and Everett calling. "Sammy. Stop please! Stop running!"

No! Glancing back with a soft cry, she stumbled and caught herself with the railing, and turned to watch her step as she sped up, scrambling down the stairs.

Hands wrapped around her arm, dragging her back and she had a moment of sheer panic, forgetting who it was chasing her until she heard his voice. "You will stop running. You will stop it. I am here now. I am not going away... ever..."

Heart pounding, she shook her head, tugging at her arm, held in his tight grip. No, no, no. Escape. Now.

"You are going to have the cops on me again if you keep this up. Go back to my room. NOW."

Samantha hesitated, uncertain, panting for breath. The need to run, to escape still twitched in her belly, but the need to protect Everett was stronger. If the police came out, they would not give up so easily again. Everett would lose everything. Would lose his daughter. She couldn't risk that.

She needed her clothes, and obviously Everett needed to say whatever he wanted to tell her. Goodbye and good riddance, probably. She didn't fight the tears, simply turning and walking slowly back up the stairs.

Whatever he needed to say, she'd listen and then she'd go. She supposed she owed him that at least.

When they were finally back in his new room, she heard the door slam closed and the locks engaged behind her. She squeaked, started as he spun her around and stripped the robe off of her, tossing it aside and demanding her shoes as well.

He guided her to the bed and pushed her to sit, dragging a chair and sitting directly in front of her. "Now. I want to know everything. No matter how hard it is to speak about. I want to know it all."

Samantha sniffled, staring at him. What did it matter? Was this some sort of punishment for her failure? Some sort of final humiliation? To spell out all the ways she'd failed him? She pulled her feet up onto the bed, wrapping her arms around her knees, curling into a protective ball, hiding as much of her body as possible.

She buried her face against her knees a moment, then lifted her head, staring unfocussed toward the window. Speaking barely above a whisper, she began. "After the Gala, I told John I couldn't marry him and refused the ring."

She heard a sharp inhalation from Everett, but didn't look at him, or stop the soft monotone confession.

"John's manager, Cedric threatened to ruin Bill & Helen…" she blinked back tears, "threatened to destroy you," she whispered. "Swore he'd make sure you never got to see your daughter again if I didn't go through with the marriage. If I ever saw you again."

"He…?"

"No," she shook her head. "There was someone else. He got his hands on the pictures and video. He recognised your face in some of the reflections. Threatened to expose you. Ruin you. He made me… do things. I-… I… I can't…" She buried her face in her hands, sobbing.

"All of it." Everett's voice was thick, grating.

"He took more pictures. Made me… made me… he made me meet him, hooded me… I couldn't see anything… hear anything… there were men and women. I don't even know how many."

She couldn't look at Everett. There were no sounds, no reaction coming from him, barely even breathing.

"He made me meet him at Max's. Forced me to agree to the nipple rings and hood piercing. He had more plans for me. He said as much. But Alfred got run over by a car and the police came and he ran…" Samantha shivered, wrapping her arms tighter. "He promised I'd regret it if I ever told anyone, but it was all so overwhelming… I needed to talk to someone… Max was the only one I had." She swiped at the tears. "but then he and Illian called the police. I never wanted that. I swear. I tried to tell them they got it wrong but no one would listen to me and now I've ruined everything!"

Jumping off the bed, she pushed past Everett and dove for the discarded robe, the need to run taking over.

Samantha's eyes drifted closed. What did she want? Everything. Nothing that she could have. She wanted happily-ever-after. She wanted her Master to be happy and whole and healthy and with her. She wanted to be a perfect, happy little family… her and Everett and Bailey and the baby.

She whimpered. The leather binding her elbows, the soft bindings on her throat and ankles, the weight of her collar around her neck and Everett's arms wrapped around her… it was all cocooning her in warmth and safety and comfort.

More than she'd felt in what seemed like forever. She wanted to sink into her submission. She wanted to beg for her Master to take her, to love her, to keep her forever.

But she bit back the words.

He didn't understand the threat. He didn't understand how dangerous Conner was. He didn't understand that she wasn't worth it. What happened to her didn't matter anymore. Only one thing did. Everett.

Everett being safe and alive and with his daughter.

Everett being happy.

That was the only thing that mattered, and it would only happen if she stayed away.

He couldn't keep her here forever. Eventually he'd have to go back to the hospital to Bailey. He'd have to go to court, for the hearing. She just needed to bide her time. Let him think she'd given up on running.

Eventually she'd have her chance.

And in the meantime, the wounded little girl inside her whispered, in the meantime, maybe it would be okay to be held. To gather up the memories to store for the cold, empty years ahead.

She looked up at him with tear-streaked cheeks, biting her bottom lip hesitantly. "Just hold me?" She whispered. "please?"

"I can go to hotel management and get pair of wire cutters and take those things off if you want."

Samantha felt tears prick at her eyes. She'd noticed how repulsed he seemed to be by the piercings. How he avoided even coming close to them. In her mind… her wishful thinking… she'd begun to think of them as Everett's. That they were like her tattoo and her collar. Another mark of her ownership. Superimposing Everett's image over Conner's in her memory.

But it was clear that he found them disgusting. Disfiguring. He wanted nothing to do with them.

She shifted her body away as far as she was able, trying to put some distance between him and the jewellry, but his arms were like bands of iron around her.

Her throat tightened. She wanted to agree, to offer anything he wanted, but she knew that was not possible. Conner might be in the hospital right now… but she had no doubt that he was far from finished with her. When he found out she'd been here, with Everett… if she dared remove the rings… there'd be hell to pay.

Samantha had no illusions about her own suffering. Conner knew her one weakness, and he was more than willing to use it. Protecting Everett, and Bailey now that she'd finally met her, that was the only thing Samantha had left.

"Can't," she mumbled, hiding her face against Everett's shoulder. Max had warned her that if she removed them before they were fully healed, replacing them would be doubly painful. She could feel Everett stiffening at her answer, feel the sudden tension in his hold.

She closed her eyes and pressed closer, needing to savour the feel of his arms around her in case it didn't last much longer.

"Is Alfred okay? Did he die?"

Samantha hesitated, guilt overriding everything else for the moment as she realised she hadn't spared a single thought for Alfred since she left New York. Was he ok? What had he been trying to tell her? How was he involved in all this?

She felt Everett's knuckle under her chin, lifting her face to meet her eyes. "I need to know. Where is this man now? Where are the photos and videos he has on you? I need to go get them away from him."

Panic clenched her belly and she started to tremble. NO!

She couldn't have Everett anywhere near Conner. He had no idea how dangerous that man was. He could be hurt… or killed. God only knew what that evil bastard would do to him!

Conner couldn't know that anyone knew what he'd done to her! She shook her head wildly, a soft keening whimper building in her chest.

"Okay... Okay I won't. But baby... he can't hold these things over you forever. We need to do something about this. We are a team after all."

Everett was using the same soft, soothing voice on her that she'd watched him use on feral cats once, trying to calm them enough to let him hold them. She almost chuckled, realising it was having the same effect on her as he petted her hair.

"Why didn't you tell me about John? You broke up with him from the beginning? You led me to believe that you were happy with him. It's your happiness I was acting on... like how your actions have been for my happiness. Why couldn't you say something to me? I got drunk and then there was thing with Olivia..."

Samantha lifted her eyes to his. "I couldn't… I did break it off with him right away, but then Cedric… he told me if I saw you again, had anything more to do with you, he'd make you all pay. He forced me to accept the ring back, to tell John I would marry him after all."

She still felt guilty about deceiving the poor man. Hurting him the way she obviously had.

"You told Kendrick he wasn't your fiancé…"

She looked away. "He's not. He broke off the engagement. He found out there was…" she paused, changing direction, "he realised I was in love with someone else." She lifted her eyes back to his but saw he wasn't listening.

"I... I don't know what happened. I got drunk, she carried me to my room. I passed out. I think she might have... done something... I don't know. But the next day, Heath had a talk with her or something, because she left me alone after that. I still don't know what happened. So much I didn't know. How can I be a Master to anyone if I can't be a Master to myself first?"

Samantha's heart clenched at the pain and self-doubt in his voice. It cut her to the quick to hear her Master saying these things. More suffering to be laid squarely at her door.

"No," she whispered, pushing closer, struggling for a moment at the bindings securing her wrists and elbows, desperate to throw her arms around him. Forced to settle for pressing her face against his throat, she curled one knee up over his hip, dragging him toward her, sliding her naked body against his clothed one. "It's all my fault. All of it. I'm the one who failed you. I'm the one who is unworthy." She whispered against his skin, punctuating each sentence with soft kisses. "You'll find someone better. Someone perfect for you. Someone worthy of being yours. Someone right for you and Bailey."

Tears blurred her eyes. Someone who wasn't her.

Samantha sobbed uncontrollably, shaking her head desperately in denial.

Her Master was holding her, hard and demanding. Offering her everything she wanted. Everything she needed. Growling the words she'd dreamed of hearing for what felt like forever.

But how could she accept them? How could she give in? How? When every second she spent in this room with him dragged him further and further into danger?

How? When she knew that he was not thinking clearly right now. He was feeling possessive because he thought she had willingly submitted to another man. But she knew that feeling would fade when the reality of the things she'd done hit home.

He was still thinking of her as the woman he'd admired before he came to work for her. He wasn't seeing her for the damaged goods she was now.

Her ass burned in pain, throbbing with each beat of her heart. Combined with the tight bindings on her arms, she felt almost at peace. So close to the blissful place she'd been in when he'd first collared her, marked her.

His cock waved in front of her. So close she could almost feel its heat, smell the mouth-watering musk that was her Master's alone. She bit her lip, holding back from begging by sheer force of will.

Temptation taunted her. Give in. You'll never get this chance again. One last taste before you lose him forever.

The cock or the belt? How could she choose when she needed both so badly? How could she choose when she didn't deserve the gift of either one?

"p-please don't d-do this," she whispered brokenly, sniffling and gasping for breath. "I c-can't do th-this."

"Then I choose for you slut. I am tired of you trying to protect me! Don't you fucking get it? I don't need protection. I have everything I want so long as I have you!"

The belt slapped down against her already burning ass and thighs and Sammy twisted, struggling against his hold. Struggling against what she needed.

"Say it. Say it now!"

She clenched her jaw, fighting against the words. Fighting against the need. She had to do what was right! Had to do what was best for Everett!

The belt slashed down again. And again. Everett holding her in place, forcing her to face it. To feel it. Not letting her hide.

Suddenly something inside Samantha burst. The hard little core of pain and guilt and doubt split wide open, burning away in the flames of the belt and the steel of Everett's control. She struggled and twisted in his hold, fists clenching and unclenching as she strained against the bonds.

Desperation warred with a pure, consuming rage. "Let me go! Let me fucking go! Let me GO...ach..."

Samantha's words were cut off as Everett's cock shoved past her open lips, the warm velvet weight of it sliding along her tongue, filling her throat. Tears filled Samantha's eyes as the flavour of her Master burst across her tongue.

She whimpered, pleading a last feeble "L.tm gouu…" garbled around his cock as she fought to stay strong, to resist.

Her Master's belt continued to fall. Her Master's cock filled her throat.

Samantha's eyes drifted closed, savouring the perfection of the two things she'd wanted most and had been sure she'd never feel again. She wanted to imprint this moment forever on her memory before…

..reality intruded.

She struggled to pull away. Struggled to escape the very thing she wanted. Needed. Craved.

"You aren't going till you are mine again!"

Hard hands dragged her closer, pressing her face into his pelvis as he shoved his cock down her throat to the hilt. The belt continued to lash at her ass and thighs, and Samantha's struggles for breath faded as the need to savour, the need to worship her Master's cock built inside her.

Why not give them both what they wanted? Why was she fighting what she needed?

She hummed silently, letting the vibrations travel the length of his hard cock. She wrapped her lips around him, working his crown with her tongue, lapping at his slit. She moaned softly. She'd almost forgotten how much she loved the weight of his cock in her mouth, the velvet wrapped iron of his rod, stroking her lips and tongue, teasing her with his salty flavour.

"A blowjob won't get you out of the words... "

Samantha whimpered, looking up into her Master's hard eyes.

He fisted his hand in her hair, dragging her harshly away from her prize.

She mewled with need, increasing her suction, trying to hold on by sheer force of will, but Everett's was stronger. He pulled her up, laying her back on the bed.

"I want the words. Give me the words... and I will give you everything in my power to give..."

Samantha panted softly, licking her lips. Her ass and thighs burned, her lips and tongue tingled, all throbbing with every beat of her heart.

She stared, wide-eyed, longing filling her. Did she dare to take what she wanted? Did she have the strength to deny them both? To do what she knew was best, no matter her own pain? No matter Everett's pain?

She did not.

"Daddy owns slave sammy," she whispered with a soft sob, shifting to press her face into Everett's throat. "slave sammy loves her Daddy so much."

"Daddy owns slave sammy. slave sammy loves her Daddy so much."

The words echoed over and over through Samantha's head as she hid her face against Everett's throat pressing against him. She'd fought saying them. Held them back for so long. Hoping desperately that if she didn't speak the words, didn't acknowledge the truth of them, that she could somehow escape the pain of losing her Master.

It was a fool's hope, she realised.

Nothing would ease that pain. There was no buffer, no hiding, no denying. She belonged to him body and soul. She loved him with everything in her. No matter what pain, what loss the future would bring, that she knew, would never change.

"Daddy loves slave sammy too... with all his heart. Nadu."

She ducked her chin, hiding a small, bittersweet smile. Once, hearing that… believing it… would have been the proudest, happiest moment of her life. Now it was tempered by her inevitable loss. By the pain it confirmed she would cause him.

It was difficult enough leaving him, breaking her own heart, but it was a price she would happily pay to keep him safe. To ensure he didn't lose his daughter. But to know that her actions would cause him pain… that he would suffer as she did… that was almost beyond enduring.

She felt his eyes on her, watching her closely, and she masked her turmoil, knowing without a doubt that she would not have an opportunity to escape if he were concerned about her emotional state.

Admit the truth, she snorted to herself, you want this. Want him. You've been longing for this.

She twisted, shifted. It was a struggle without the use of her arms and certainly less than graceful, but she managed to work herself up onto her knees, shimmying around to assume the proper pose. Or as close to it as she could manage.

His eyes roved over her, up and down. She felt the heat building in her cheeks under the intense examination.

"You like those piercings... don't you pet?"

She glanced at them, then let her eyes drift closed. What could she say? What did he want to hear? Did she hate the circumstances of getting them? Yes. Did she despise the fucking bastard who had forced them on her? Absolutely!!

But the piercings themselves? She nodded almost imperceptibly.

He asked her about the colour and she lowered her eyes again, barely whispering the answer. In truth, she knew that was why she liked the piercings. From the moment the blue jewellry went in, she had thought of them as belonging to her Master. Thought of the ways her Master might adorn them. Might play with them.

"…how do you feel about keeping them then... changing their meaning from this other guy... to me?"

Samantha nodded quickly. It was easier than trying to explain. She didn't need to change the meaning of the piercings. To her, they had always been his. Would always be his. Just as she was.

Everett slipped off the bed and walked over to where his luggage sat, rummaging for a few moments. When he returned he was carrying an empty lanyard.

Samantha's eyes widened as she held her breath.

He reached forward, clipping the lanyard to her hood piercing and gave it a tiny tug. "Yes... I can see plenty of ways to enjoy you with these now..."

Samantha gasped at the sharp jolt that shot through her as she shuffled quickly forward to ease the pressure. At the same time his callused hand curled around her throat and she whimpered, immediate arousal shuddering through her entire body.

"I haven't claimed you in a long time.... YEARS it feels."

Samantha moaned, shifting her hips, intensely aware of the aching emptiness she'd felt since the last time they were together.

His hand left her neck, fisting in her hair to drag her forward.

"Suck like your life depends on it or..." She felt another sharp tug on the piercing, but let his cock muffle her cry as she dove forward eagerly. She needed no threat to obey his command. She craved her Master's cock. Needed it. Would never get enough of it.

Her only thought was to savour every moment, every precious drop. It would have to sustain her for the long lonely years ahead without him.

She swallowed and slurped, bobbing her head, worshiping his cock with her tongue. Pouring every bit of the love and adoration she felt into her effort.

Samantha felt her arms sag forward as he released them from the belt binding them behind her back and her sobs increased as she dove forward, pressing against him, wrapping her arms around him.

She knew she was crushing him, squeezing the very breath from him, but she couldn't loosen her hold. The desperation to hang on to him, to imprint him on her memory was too strong, too deep.

"It's okay baby. I am never going to go away again. You are with me now. We can face all of this together. Would you marry me?"

Samantha's heart clenched in her chest. Her sobs and tears doubled as she buried her face against him. The words she would have given anything to hear such a short time ago were like a stab of pain to her soul now.

Now, when she can never have it… now is when the cruel and capricious universe offers her everything she wanted on a silver platter.

Now, when she can never accept him… now Everett speaks the words that would once have made her the happiest woman in the world.

"Baby... your worrying me now. Baby... talk to me... please."

Samantha shuddered, the heartbroken sobs giving way to silent sadness. It was no less than she deserved. She'd dared to taunt Fate. Dared to love. Dared to let him get close. And now she had to pay for that bravado. That hubris. She had learned long ago that Samantha Noelle was meant to be alone. Samantha Noelle was not allowed family, or love. She knew better, and yet she let Everett convince her otherwise.

She'd allowed herself to believe she could be loved. Could love someone in return.

Fate was determined to teach her otherwise.

"No..."

Everett's broken whisper broke through her swirling thoughts. He knew. He realised now she had to refuse him. Had to deny them both. She could see the pain in his eyes. He was beginning to understand.

"You're scaring me. You're... you're dying... aren't you? Oh god!"

Wait. What? No.. oh no, no, no. Samantha opened her lips to deny it, then hesitated a moment. Would it be easier for him? If he believed she were dying… would it be easier for him to accept her refusal? Easier for him to let her go?

Could she do that to him? Which was worse? Letting him think she was dying or breaking his heart by refusing his proposal and telling him that she had to leave him to keep him and his daughter safe?

"We will find a way... I swear we will find a way to save you..."

Samantha met his tormented eyes and knew she couldn't lie to him.

"Everett," she whispered, curling her fingers around his cheeks, silencing his words. "Master, no. I'm not dying."

He stared deeply into her eyes. She could feel him searching for the truth.

"I swear, I'm not dying!" she whispered, pulling his face into her throat. "I'm fine. I'm not dying. I promise." She repeated the soft words over and over until she felt him relax into acceptance.

She felt him stiffen again, pulling back and she released her hold.

"Then why…"

"I-I… I c-can't marry you." Her voice cracked over the words she would have given anything not to say, but she forced them out anyway. "I w-won't!"

A dark scowl dropped over Everett's features. He opened his mouth to argue, but she forestalled his words.

"You need to think of Bailey. I won't be the cause of you losing your daughter. I w-won't!" She pushed against his chest, trying to break his hold. "You have to let me go!" She had thought she was all cried out, but she could feel a fresh round of sobs building in her chest. Pushing them into anger, she beat her small fists on his chest. "Let me GO!"

"How dare you! The... audacity! The... the... arrogance!"

Samantha's eyes flew wide as Everett shoved her forcefully away, rolling off the bed and roughly jerking his pants back into place. She huddled into as small a space as she could, wrapping her arms around herself. She'd never seen him in such an intense rage before.

She slid slowly to the edge of the bed. If the police were going to come barging in here again, she'd best be dressed when they did. There would be no hiding the fresh welts on her ass and thighs, and no explaining that the marks were consensual.

She berated herself again for her own selfishness. She should never have come here. She gave in to her own weakness, her own desperation for just one more time with her Master, and he was the one who would end up paying for it. He and Bailey.

She'd barely reached the edge of the bed when he spun on her. "Don't you FUCKING MOVE WOMAN!"

She stilled immediately, eyes flashing to his. Slowly, slowly, as if she were dealing with a wild animal, Samantha eased back onto the center of the bed, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them.

She'd never seen him like this. Furious. Ranting. Almost wild in his anger.

She'd wondered once if he really had the depth, the well of darkness in him to truly master her. He'd spent so long as her employee, her assistant… running to her every call, jumping through her hoops, obeying her ridiculous commands. She'd thought perhaps he was so used to showing her deference that he would never truly dominate her in the way she needed.

This man though... as long as he could control that rage…

He spun on her again, grabbing at her arms and shoving her onto her belly as he wrenched them behind her back, binding them once more at wrists and elbows. Samantha struggled, fear and arousal welling in equal measure inside her.

She tried to calm herself. This was Everett. He would never really hurt her.

But this was an Everett she'd never seen before. An Everett filled with rage. An Everett who may not be in control of that rage. She whimpered. There was no telling what this Everett might do.

He dragged her to her feet and grabbed at the lanyard still hanging from her hood piercing, then spun and walked away without another word.

A sharp tug on her ring had Samantha crying out and hurrying to catch up with his pacing.

"please, Master, I'm sorry. I didn't…" She gasped as he changed direction with another sharp tug. Panic teased at the edges of her mind as she stumbled behind him. What if she fell? She couldn't catch herself. She could rip the ring right out. She could knock herself unconscious, or worse.

She didn't understand why he was so angry. Wasn't sure what she should be apologising for. She was only trying to protect him and Bailey. Only trying to make sure his association with her and the things she'd done didn't reflect badly on him in the Court's eyes. If the video came to light… "Master, please…"

Samantha jumped, startled as Everett spun again, wrapping his hand around her throat as he half-dragged, half-shoved her back into the corner, pressing against her. "You don't have the RIGHT to dictate to me how to be a better parent! You have NO RIGHT!"

Her mouth fell open, her eyes wide. What?! Better parent? WHAT?!? "m-master, p-please," she could barely force the words past his tight grip, "please… I d-didn't…"

"You don't get to say what is best for me! Look at your own life woman! You think your choices are so fucking wise that you have some kind of moral high ground to dictate to others how they should live! The fucking arrogance! I... what you say... fucking sickens me! How DARE you make such claims that by you being around me is going to make me a bad parent! How FUCKING DARE YOU!"

Samantha trembled, shaking her head desperately. That wasn't what she'd meant at all. That might have been who she was once, but not anymore. She'd changed. Everett had changed her. Even the cold bitch she had been knew one thing with certainty about Everett… she knew he loved his daughter with everything in him.

Disgust and rage filled his voice. It was ironic really. Her one grand self-sacrificing gesture, meant to protect him at the cost of both their broken hearts had killed any love he had for her. He hated her now.

She should be glad. It would only be her own heart breaking now, not his. Now, finally, he would be happy to let her go.

She whimpered softly, the pain of that thought tearing her heart to shreds. He hated her now. She let the tears spill over.

She gasped as twin fiery lances of pain drove through her nipples, Everett dragging sharply on the rings.

"You wanna know why you could end up alone?! You want to know?! Fuck you I am going to tell you anyways, it's because of your fucking greater than thou fucking attitude! You think that your very presence is going to some change the fate of the fucking world! You're just a woman! You're just MY woman! You think my life is going to be somehow greater than without you in it?! You DARE try and take that choice away from me?"

Samantha bit back a sob that was half laugh. He thought she had a greater than thou attitude? He thought she considered herself superior to him?! It was ironic really. The truth was the complete reverse. She knew she wasn't good enough for him. Not anymore. She never really had been.

Maybe for that sweet, so short of a time, between when she truly submitted to him and when Conner destroyed all her hopes…. maybe for that tiniest instant she had deserved him. But that seemed like so long ago now.

If any of those pictures or videos ever surfaced… she was little more than a whore and an amatuer porn star now. Conner would never let her escape his hold over her, and she could not, would not drag Everett down with her.

What court would not look at the things she had done and judge any home with her in it unsuitable for a young girl to be raised in?

She whimpered softly. Why couldn't he understand? Why couldn't he see?

"You are a slave! You are MY fucking slave! You don't get to choose what is best for you anymore! That pendant on your chest... these piercings... that fucking tattoo makes it so! You don't get to decide for yourself anymore! You don't get to choose anymore. You obey! That is all you do! You fucking obey me! Do you understand me little slut?"

Samantha trembled uncontrollably, the urge to acquiesce, to submit her life to her Master's care no matter the consequences nearly overwhelmed her. The longing to be his alone, loving and serving him for the rest of her life filled her heart to near bursting. The desire to spend the rest of her days as his slave, his slut, his three hungry holes, burned through her veins.

She would give anything to say yes. She would crawl and beg, plead for the honour of serving him if she could.

Tears flooded her cheeks.

She had to be strong. Now more than ever. Whether he believed it or not, she was trying to do what was best.

Him hating her… while it broke her heart, only made things easier. Now he would let her go.

"If I have to, don't think I would put a fucking lead on your neck and prance you around with it for the rest of your life! DO you FUCKING understand me?!?!"

Samantha gasped, a jolt of pure arousal flooding her entire body. To be leashed. She whimpered. Never further away from her Master than the length of a chain lead. Her throat squeezed shut around a lump of longing, but she pushed it down and away.

That was for the realm of secret dreams, not harsh reality.

She lifted her tearstained eyes to his. "I understand you, Master," she whispered slowly, almost hesitantly, "but the world is not that simple. No matter how much we wish it were."

She let her head fall forward, pressing her face against his chest, tears falling freely against him. "You misunderstood me. I know what a good father you are, and I know that when you are forced to choose between your slave and your daughter there is only one choice you can make."

She fought down the sobs, voice shaking as she forced herself to continue. "I'm not t-trying to make your decisions f-for you, M-Master," she stuttered, "I'm j-just trying to make it easier f-for you by a-accepting them."

"When I claimed you, I claimed you for all time. I claimed you for better and for worse. You remember the night don't you? Sammy... as far as I am concerned, we are a piece of paper away from being married. I don't see you as just a slave. I want you as my wife. I want you as my slut. I want you as the mother of my children and as the grandmother of my grandchildren. I want you to carry my babes in your belly one day."

Samantha felt her heart stutter in her chest. She had almost managed to push the baby to the back of her mind. Almost managed to convince herself she didn't need to deal with it now. Didn't need to burden Everett with even more complications in his life.

But the yearning in his voice stabbed at her conscience.

After everything she'd done, everything she'd suffered to protect his relationship with his daughter, how could she even consider denying him the chance to know this child? His child.

"But... you have to put your faith in me. You have to believe that together, we can do anything."

Faith. Trust. Belief. Hadn't she offered Everett all those things? Samantha stilled a moment. Had she? She'd been so vehement telling Max and Illian that Everett had changed her, helped her, pushed her past her fear of relationships and letting anyone in.

She convinced herself that she was doing all this for Everett. For Everett and Bailey. Protecting their relationship at the sacrifice of her own. Maybe that was part of it.

Maybe.

But how much of it was the same old fear? The fear of letting Everett close. The fear of being abandoned. Wasn't she letting her fears rule her life now, just as surely as she had before Everett pushed his way into her heart?

"I can't do it all myself and neither can you. But together... we can do ANYTHING we set our minds too. You have to stop thinking it is all about you and it's all about me. If you keep that up, there will never be us. I want us."

Longing rushed over Samantha, rising up, engulfing her completely. Us… not he and I... us. A family. Together.

It would be work. There would be ups and downs. But what relationship didn't have them? And since when was Samantha Noelle afraid of a little work. She'd scratched and fought and worked her way to the top of her profession. Could she do any less for the man she loved?

Wasn't it time to push past the fear and grab at her happiness? Work at their happiness? Together.

"God I never wanted someone as much as I wanted you in my life. I have always had one foot out the door in every relationship I had ever been in and I want to slam that door completely with you. You are my world... you are my rock... why can't you see that...?"

Tears pressed against Samantha's eyelids, tightness squeezed her throat. She had to tell him the truth. She couldn't lie to him.

I want you to carry my babes in your belly one day.

She leaned into his chest, fresh tears flooding her eyes, soaking his shirt as she hid from his hurt eyes. "One day is today," she whispered.

She felt his fingers stroke through her hair. "I... didn't hear that, slave... what did you say?"

Pressing her eyes shut, she forced herself to whisper a little louder. "I'm pregnant."

His hands lifted her away from his chest. "What did you say? I didn't hear you..."

"I'm carrying your baby." Speaking the words aloud for the first time lit a warm curl of pure joy in her belly. Joy that was quickly curtailed as she watched Everett stumble back in shock, falling back hard on his bed. Was he upset? Was he questioning whether it was his?

Did he not want…

"You're.... you're sure?"

Samantha felt the heat rising in her cheeks, as she nodded softly. Tears dripped off her chin. She wanted to run. To hide. To throw herself into Everett's embrace, feel his arms wrap around her and hold her safe.

She wanted to promise him that it was his. It couldn't be anyone else's. Wanted to swear she wasn't asking for anything… would never deny him access to his child…

But unreleased sobs locked the words in her throat.

Everett stood, stalking toward her and Samantha automatically stepped back, pressing herself into the corner, her bound arms tight against the walls.

He leaned in taking her mouth in a fervent, all-consuming kiss. Pure joy swelled up, tempered by hunger, possessiveness, need. She struggled against the bonds, aching to wrap her arms around him, hold him tight.

The kiss went on and on… stealing her breath, stoking her hunger, fanning the flames of her love.

Samantha's knees buckled but Everett scooped her up before she could fall, carrying her to the bed, easing down next to her, over her, continuing the voracious kisses even as he reached around to release her arms.

She wrapped her arms around him, dragging him close, pressing herself against his entire length, curling one leg around his hips.

"I am never letting you go. Let's get married. Now. Tonight. I will hire a minister to marry us today. Please... Marry me Sammy... let me be your husband and the father of our child."

She blinked, her mouth a tiny 'o' of wonder, as she held her breath a moment, looking deeply into his eyes, searching.

She caught her lip in her teeth, mind whirling. Tonight. Married! At least they'd avoid all the publicity…. for now anyway.

Finally, she smiled. "Yes… yes, I will marry you." She giggled at the explosive release of breath he'd obviously been holding, then bit her lip again. "I will marry you tonight… on one condition."

He warily lifted his eyes to hers and she rushed to continue. "We get married in the hospital chapel. I want Bailey to be there. Ok?"

Samantha stepped up to the chapel doors, nervous excitement filling her. They were really going to do this. They were really going to get married. She was going to be Mrs. Everett Johnson!

Well… she probably wouldn't change her name… would she?

The network would likely have something to say about that.

She paused. The network. Fuck. She hadn't even really thought about what this would mean for their careers. The public attention that would come along with any announcement. Not only of their marriage but of her pregnancy. That wasn't something she'd be able to hide for long.

Had Everett considered any of that?

And what about Bailey? He was right about one thing. She barely knew the girl. She was about to take vows and become a stepmother to a girl she'd met one time for all of twenty minutes maybe. How was Bailey going to feel about all this?

Oh why didn't she think about any of this before she was standing in the chapel with Everett waiting for her? Why didn't she think of any of this before she said yes?

Fear welled up, the urge to run building.

This was a mistake. What was she thinking?

She stepped back, hurrying down the hall. She needed to hide… before Everett chased after her again. She couldn't deny him again.

"Ms. Noelle!"

She hesitated, turning to see not Everett but Bailey, struggling to catch up with her.

"Slow down, would you? I can't shuffle that fast."

"I'm sorry… I…" Samantha's automatic apology faded. For once in her life, she was truly at a loss for what to say.

"You're scaring Everett."

Samantha blinked, for a moment confused by Bailey's use of her father's name. She cast her eyes back to the chapel doors, a look of longing on her face.

"I've never seen him so scared."

Samantha turned back to Bailey. "You didn't see him when he thought he'd lost you."

Bailey's mouth dropped open a moment and she ducked her head, hunching her shoulders. "Look, I'm not sure what the rush to get married is about… it's not as if he's knocked you up or anything…"

Samantha blushed fiercely, her eyes darting away.

"oh my god. He did! He knocked you up?!"

"Bailey!" Samantha hissed, eyes darting around the corridor to see if anyone was close enough to hear. "Please keep your voice down!"

"Ms. Noelle…"

Samantha rolled her eyes. "Sam, ok?"

Bailey grinned, nodding. "ok. Sam. You guys got me up at 2 AM for a wedding… there'd better be a frickin' wedding!" She tilted her head, studying Samantha. "You love my dad… right?"

Samantha blushed, nodding with a soft smile.

"He loves you… or he wouldn't have proposed."

"Several times, in fact," Samantha whispered with a wink and a grin.

Bailey giggled. "You made him work for it? I love it!"

Samantha shrugged softly. "I knew that if it came down to a choice between raising you or marrying me, he would choose you. You mean the world to him, and I-…"

Bailey scowled. "Why would it have to be a choice? Why couldn't he have both? Don't you want…?" Her eyes dropped down to Samantha's still flat belly. "oh," she whispered softly. "I get it." She stepped back.

"No! oh Bailey, no!! That's not it at all!" Samantha reached out, keeping Bailey from moving any further away. "I've been alone almost all my life. There is nothing I ever wanted more than a family of my own. A big family. I just never thought I'd have that chance."

"Then why are you running away now?"

Samantha drew in a deep breath, offering a crooked grin and a shrug. "I tend to do that when I get scared."

"Scared?"

"Sometimes… when you want something so badly, for so long… it can be a bit scary when it's right there in front of you, within reach." She looked into Bailey's eyes. "What if I screw this up?"

Bailey shrugged. "What if he does? What if I do? You mess up, you fix it and you carry on. That's life."

Samantha stared a moment. So like Everett. She wrapped her arm around Bailey's shoulders. "How did you get so smart for someone so young?"

Bailey giggled, eyes widening as she wrapped her arm around Samantha's back. "You think I'm smart?"

They turned together and headed back toward the chapel.

"Listen…" Samantha could hear the hesitance in Everett's voice, "maybe we should…"

She pressed her fingers against his lips, cutting off his words before he could finish that sentence. She sniffled, blinking back her tears as she wiped a hand against her cheeks. "Maybe we should get back into the chapel and get married."

Everett's eyes widened and Samantha almost giggled, realising she'd surprised him.

"If there's one thing I've learned tonight, it's that life is too short. There are no guarantees. We need to grab onto what we want with both hands and hold tight…" She leaned back slightly, just enough to look up into his eyes, letting all the love she felt shine in hers. "And what I want, is for my Master to be my husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward."

Everett smiled. "To love, honour and obey?"

Samantha blushed softly, tucking her head under his chin. "Yes, Master," she whispered softly. "But then…"

"Then you want to go to Evie."

She heard the resignation in his voice, the concern. "I need to go. She needs me. But I'll have to be back here right away for the hearing." At Everett's questioning look, she shrugged. "Didn't I tell you? I was subpoenaed. I have to testify."

His mouth dropped open.

--

The next few hours passed in a whirl that Samantha could still barely remember or believe. She stood on Evie's doorstep, twisting the ring around and around on her finger.

Mrs. Everett Johnson.

She was Mrs. Everett Johnson!

Only playing with the ring convinced her that she hadn't dreamed the whole thing.

Then the door opened to Evie's sombre face, eyes swollen from crying and her strong, amazing, invulnerable friend collapsed into her arms with a sob.

Samantha just held her, steering them both inside and kicking the door shut. She murmured soothingly, stroking her hand up and down Evie's trembling back, leading them further inside.

Settling them onto the sofa, Samantha pulled Evie close, just holding her while the older woman sobbed. Her phone rang and, expecting Everett's call, she picked it up and answered without looking. "Hello, I'm…"

"You fucking cunt! Did you think you'd get away from me?"

Samantha gasped, ending the call and dropping the phone to the table.

"Sam?" Evie sniffled, questioning. "Sam, who was that?"

"Nobody. It's nothing."

The phone rang again. This time, Evie snatched it away from Samantha's trembling fingers, accepting the call.

"Bitch! Did you forget the rules? Forget how to answer the fucking phone?" He didn't wait for any reply. "I thought what happened to your friend's pussyboy might be reminder enough, but apparently not. When I get my hands on you again you will learn the fucking hard way, you stupid whore."

Samantha slapped the phone out of Evie's shaking hand, trembling herself.

"Samantha," Evie whispered, deadly calm, darkness swallowing her eyes. "Who was that?"

"Samantha," Evie whispered again, darkness swallowing her eyes. "Who… was… that?"

"Evie…"

"The truth, Sam. Now."

Samantha sighed, dropping her eyes. The dark, commanding tone brooked no argument. It was the Mistress in Evie demanding answers, and Sammy knew the time had come to tell her everything. Maybe if she'd spoken up sooner, Heath wouldn't…

Tears flooded her eyes as she looked back up to Evie. "I'm sorry… so sorry… this is all my fault!" Once the dam had burst, the whole story spilled out… the blackmail, the threats, all of it, ending with Max's assault on Everett and subsequent arrest, and her refusal to press charges.

Samantha buried her face in her hands, sobbing.

"Sam," Evie waiting until Samantha lifted tear-stained eyes, "I think you're forgetting something." She reached forward, tapping the ring on Samantha's finger and arching her brow.

Samantha blushed softly, ducking her head. "When you called, Everett and I were at the hospital chapel… getting married." Her head snapped up before Evie could respond. "oh, Everett!!" She grabbed up her phone. "I was supposed to call him when I got in!"

She quickly dialled up his number, and on the fourth ring, his sleepy voice answered. "'lo? Sammy?"

Words failed her for a moment, the overwhelming swirl of emotions squeezing her throat shut. "Master?" The whisper was barely audible.

"You get in ok? Sammy?"

"Yes…" her voice was thick with tears. "I'm at Evie's."

She could hear Everett shift, picture him sitting up, alert. "Sammy, what's wrong?"

She licked her lips, blinking away tears. She hesitated, staring at her wedding ring. "He called again." She swallowed against the tightness in her throat. "He… he said… he's responsible for what happened to H-Heath." She bit back a sob. "He made more threats."

"FUCKER!" Everett's growl somehow calmed her, eased her. "I'm coming right now!"

"No, Everett. You can't. Bailey. Family Court!"

"Fuck court! I'm not leaving you alone. We face this together, remember?"

"Everett!" Evie pulled at Samantha's arm, speaking into the phone. "Your daughter needs you there. I will protect Sammy. I swear. Trust me, this bastard is going to become intimate with the consequences of threatening my friends… hurting my… my… Heath."

Everett's sigh echoed over the phone. "I want her back here. She needs to be in Court, too."

"You just want your honeymoon." Evie teased with a sad smile. "I will get her back to you safely, my dear. I swear it."

"Thank you, Evie. And I'm so sorry about…"

"I know." Evie sniffed. "Thank you."

"I love you, Sammy. I want you back soon, baby."

Sammy smiled softly. "I love you, too, Master. Good night." She disconnected the call and turned to Evie. "I'm so sorry…"

"Don't. You are not responsible for this bastard's actions." She stared at the phone a moment. "Do you have any idea where to find him? Where he lives? A way to contact him, maybe?"

Samantha's phone chimed for an incoming email and she swiped her thumb, bringing up her emails.

"One hour. Hotel Bayou. Come alone. You know the drill. If you don't, these go out 1 minute after that hour is up. Move whore!"

She sniffed, swiping away her tears. "how about where he's going to be in an hour?"

Evie stood silent, waiting until Samantha finished dressing and walked out, the door closing with a soft snick behind her.

"Paul, dear," she turned looking into ice blue eyes that shone with a rage and pain almost equal to her own, "please go and bring in the luggage cart, if you would. I think it's time we haul out the trash."

She waited until Paul nodded, slipping out of the room.

"Victor," she nodded toward the barely conscious man moaning on the floor, watching as Victor half lifted him, wrapping his thick bicep around the bastard's neck, slowly cutting off his air as he struggled and dragged uselessly at the rock hard arm. "Carefully, dear," Evie cautioned, "he doesn't get the relief of death."

She walked slowly over, digging her stiletto heel into his groin. "We have a few things to discuss."

"nothin'… to say… to you…. Bitch."

Evie smiled, dark and predatory. "Oh, I was hoping you'd say that." She ground down on her heel as Victor tightened his grip. "I'm not looking for easy."

She looked up at the quiet knock, stepping over to the door to let Paul back into the room, pushing a luggage cart with a large trunk and several smaller bags piled on it. She looked back to Victor and nodded.

He nodded back, tightening his grip, cutting off Conner's air completely.

His struggles lasted barely a minute before he slipped into unconsciousness.

She tossed a roll of silver duct tape to each man. Paul quickly wound the tape around his ankles while Victor pulled his wrists back and did the same, before adding on last piece over his mouth.

Hoisting him up, they folded him into the trunk and stacked several smaller pieces of luggage on top of it before wheeling it out of the room and toward the service elevator.

--

Samantha eased her door open with a sigh. She felt completely wrung out. Her skin was crawling. She wasn't sure there was a shower hot enough to wash away the shame of Conner's eyes on her again.

She pushed all thought of him aside. She trusted Evie's word, but she didn't want to think about what Evie planned on doing to keep that promise. She knew she should. Knew she should stop her, but at the moment, she just couldn't face it. And a small part of her was glad. Knew the bastard deserved whatever he got.

She stopped inside the door, easing it closed. What was that smell? Her stomach rumbled a bit. Smelled like… pizza?

And popcorn.

She headed into the kitchen.

And chocolate chip cheesecake.

What on earth?

"Alfred?" There was no answer, but some quick scuffling from the balcony and… was that… giggling?

Samantha stepped out of the hospital elevator, hurrying toward Bailey's room. Just outside the door, she stopped, nervous. She twisted her wedding ring on her finger and drew a deep, fortifying breath, carefully smoothing her hair and brushing non-existent lint off her short flared sundress.

After listening in on Alfred and his strange new friend for a moment, she'd decided to opt for discretion and avoid them altogether. Instead, she slipped into her bedroom, packed a small bag of clothes and headed straight for the airport.

A brief stop to drop off her bag and shower in Everett's hotel room, and here she was... standing outside Bailey's door… almost hyperventilating with nerves.

She pushed the door open a crack, and Bailey's voice rang through.

"I don't know why you didn't just go with her!"

She grinned at the exasperated humour in Bailey's voice. It would seem as though she and her father were getting along at least a little better.

"Because I can't be in two places at once." Everett answered. "I needed to be here with my daughter."

Samantha could hear the frustration and guilt beneath that statement, and before Bailey had time to respond, Samantha pushed open the door and stepped into the room. "And that's as it should be." She winked at Bailey's wide welcoming smile. "I told you so."

Everett spun toward the door. "Sammy?"

She bit her lip with a small smile, glancing at Bailey before whispering "Everett," as she curled her fingers around the silver heart lock on her collar.

"Baby!"

She let out a little laugh of pure joy as Everett pulled her close, pressing her body against his as he bent his head to devour her lips in a hungry kiss.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Bailey turned her head away, waving her arms. "And also…. Eeewwwww!" She teased. "Honeymooners or not, get your own room! I really don't need to see that." She giggled, rolling her eyes.

Samantha blushed, pulling away from Everett, amused to see an equally flaming blush burning his cheeks.

"Enough sass from you, Brat." Everett pointed at Bailey, before picking up her hand and squeezing her fingers. "I love you, BayBay. We'll be back soon, ok?"

Samantha watched as Bailey hesitated, but didn't pull away.

Everett smiled. "I'll go grab an elevator. Sammy?"

She smiled. "I'll be right there."

Bailey lifted her arms, wrapping a surprised Samantha in a hug. "Thanks for coming back. He's been really worried."

Samantha hugged back. "You two are my family now. No place else I'd rather be." She pressed her cheek against Bailey's hair, then sat back. "See you soon."

"but not too soon," Bailey teased.

Samantha blushed, shaking her head with a chuckle as she turned to walk to the door.

Samantha lifted her chin, feeling the mantle of the Ice Queen, Samantha Noelle, settle over her shoulders. She, of all people, knew that she and Everett both would be scrutinised repeatedly for any sign of weakness.

She spun at the elevator doors, waiting for the car on its slow climb from the lobby to arrive.

"Boys and girls… this is a hospital. Show a little restraint, hey?" She stared down each reporter, letting the icy disdain fill her voice as she added, "Everett's daughter is a minor, and I expect you all to respect her privacy."

"C'mon, Sam," one of the reporters called out, "you've got to give us something!"

Samantha looked up to eye the slowly rising numbers. A few more minutes. She squeezed Everett's hand, concerned at his silent shellshock, but in truth, it probably was for the best. These predators needed to see the strong, ball-busting Samantha Noelle they knew, not a victim.

"One," she held up a single finger, "our relationship started when Everett was still my executive assistant. Our keeping it quiet was his way of protecting me."

"Two," she held up two fingers. "It was my choice to get married quietly here in the hospital chapel. I wanted Everett's daughter to know that she is, and always will be, a part of our family. No matter what."

"Three," she lifted another finger, tilting her head with a grin. "You guys know me. Do any of you honestly think I could be forced to do anything I didn't want to do?"

"Four," she held up four fingers. "Whatever information you think you have is an unjust and misguided attempt to wrestle custody of Everett's daughter away from him, and we will fight it. What Everett and I choose to do in the privacy of our own home is between us, and no one else's business."

The elevator door dinged, sliding open behind them, and Samantha guided Everett in, slamming her hand on the button to close the doors. Reporters rushed the doors, but she held up a hand.

"That's it for now. We need to consult our attorneys regarding Everett's case right now. We'll hold an official press conference in the next day or two, alright?" The doors slid closed and Samantha turned to Everett, pulling him close.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, pressing herself into his trembling arms. "We are going to take care of this… I promise." She wrapped her hands around Everett's face, dragging his lowered eyes up to meet hers. "Whatever it takes. I swear."

"Everett?"

"Master?"

Samantha stepped back, momentarily stunned, not sure what to feel… how to respond.

"Jesus, Linda!" Everett's exclamation shattered the silence and Samantha turned to see him pull away, running his hand through his hair, pacing a few steps then turning back.

Both women reached for him.

"She was just trying to…"

"I was just trying to…"

"… help." All three of them chorused together.

Everett rolled his eyes, rubbing his hands over his face. "Jesus."

Samantha looked back toward the doors. "Ok," she sighed. "Let's work the problem. One crisis at a time." She turned to look at Everett, reaching a hand up to cradle his cheek. "First order of business is privacy. I think we need to head back to the hotel room and plan our attack. We need to call your attorney, and mine." She sighed. "And we need to call Bill back."

Linda stepped back. "I should just go…"

"No." Samantha insisted. "I think you'd better come with us. The press will be after you now, and we need to get our stories straight before any of us talks to them again."

Everett shook his head. "I'd rather she stay with Bailey. Someone needs to protect my baby for me."
Samantha nodded softly, blushing. She'd been so focussed on Everett that she'd almost forgotten about the child stuck at the center of this shitstorm. "Yes. Absolutely. Just… don't say anything more to the press, ok?"

Linda blushed and nodded.

Samantha smiled back. "Tell Bailey that we love her, and we're going to fix everything." She looked into Everett's pained eyes, and squeezed his fingers. "We will."

She turned back to Linda. "We'll talk to you soon."

Everett grabbed Linda's hand, squeezing it. "Take care of my babygirl." His voice choked on the last word and Samantha wrapped her arms around him, pressing close.

"I will. I promise." Linda turned and walked back into the hospital.

"C'mon," Samantha tugged at Everett. "Let's go, before the reporters find us again."

"What did I ever do to deserve your loyalty my slave... no... my slave wife?"

… my slave wife…

Samantha blinked against the rush of moisture flooding her eyes. Her belly curled in a swirling combination of need and joy and hunger, her core throbbing a steady reminder of its aching emptiness.

She dared to lift her eyes, offering a small, but no less radiant smile.

"You claimed me. You took possession of me body and soul. You gave me everything I never dared admit to myself that I wanted… that I needed." Her voice wavered, thick with emotion. "You loved me."

Her smile grew slightly mischievous. The world might be falling apart all around them. They might have a whole hell of a lot to deal with…

But right now? At this moment? There was something they needed more.

"And if I'm not mistaken…" she teased, eyes sparkling, "I do believe you married me." She pouted a little, blinking wide, puppy dog eyes up at her Master. "Not that I've had much of a honeymoon, to show for it.

She swallowed, knowing she was pushing, but a distraction, even a short one was something they both needed.

And if it took a little push, to get her Master to uncork his bottled up emotions… well, wasn't it time she take care of him for a change?

Samantha pushed aside the taunting little voice inside. The deep, dark little demon mocking her altruism. Was it for her Master, or for herself? Was she tempting a punishment for his sake? To help him release his pent up anger and frustration with the restraining order?

Or was it because she wanted it. Needed it. Deserved to be punished.
She hated Conner with every fiber of her being, but he'd tapped into something inside her. A switch that Everett had flipped that very first night. A deeper, darker hunger than anything he'd done since. She wanted the love and the tenderness, but she also needed the darkness. Why did it have to be one or the other? Why couldn't it be both?

And who said her behaviour had to serve Everett's needs or her own? Why couldn’t it serve both?

He needed to quit bottling everything up, and she needed to be used hard, to be punished. They both needed the intensity tonight.

She broke Nadu, letting a hint of icy arrogance seep into her voice as she folded her arms across her chest. "I suppose it's not too late to get an annulment. Maybe I should just go home." She shifted to the edge of the bed, and stood up. "Where's my phone? I should call Bill. Maybe I can get on a flight tonight."

Her heart pounded in her chest. Was she pushing too far? What if he called her bluff? Samantha didn't know what she would do if all she heard was 'great… bye'.

"I love you, Mrs. Everett Johnson. Be back soon."

Mrs. Everett Johnson.

Samantha just knelt for a moment, a soft, silly smile growing. The words, the thought still sent a burst of happiness through her. And a sense of amazement at how much things had changed… how much she'd changed in so short a time.

She slid a hand over her still flat belly. Or how many more changes were still coming.

The laughter bubbled up. Pure joy. Overwhelming love. She had Everett. They had their baby. And they would have Bailey, too. No matter what. If her career was the price she had to pay for that… so be it.

Nothing would ever be more important than her family. Their family.

Her eyes drifted to the bags on the bed with their still hidden treasures. Excitement and need twisted in her belly. Her amazing husband... her Master… knew exactly what she needed.

She couldn't have asked for a more ideal wedding gift, or a more perfect honeymoon, than to recreate their first night. The night he first claimed her as his. The night he gave her everything she'd never admitted to herself that she needed. The night he freed her heart and gave her back her soul.

Her hands trembled, hunger curling in her belly, as she reached for the bags and began pulling out their contents.

Picking up an armload, she hurried to the large bathroom. She grabbed up a pair of elastics and secured her hair up in two tails. For just a moment, she caressed the heart locket on her eternity collar… then she lifted the new, butter-soft leather collar, slowly wrapping it around her neck as well, and buckling it tight, leaving the nipple chains dangling loosely.

She picked up the tangle of leather straps next, sorting it into a corset of sorts, straps buckling to encase her ribs and rise over her shoulders, but leaving her breasts bared.

Next she found a wispy lace thong and slid it over her hips. Sheer black silk thigh highs followed, along with strappy stiletto heels.

She smiled at her reflection, the fire in her belly burning brighter. Even though the sharp, illicit excitement of risk wasn't there, the knowledge that she was preparing for her Master more than made up for it.

She hurried back, pulling a few more things from the bags. She scanned the suite and headed over to the seating area. The coffee table looked sturdy enough to support them.

Samantha sat on the edge of the couch, bending to buckle the spreader bar between her ankles. Her thighs stretched wide to accommodate its longer length and she licked her lips with a soft, breathy moan.

She picked up the vibrating egg and took a deep breath, then another, before sliding it in deep. Even without turning it on she could feel the trembles beginning in anticipation. Picking up the ring gag, she licked her lips once, and buckled it in place.

Plucking at her tight nipples, she twisted and tweaked them, then took another deep, fortifying breath and attached the nipple clamps. Her hips rolled, need building.

She turned on the vibe, and tossed the remote onto the couch. Quick message sent, the phone joined it there. She shuddered, waves of pleasure battering her core. She quickly slid a wide, leather blindfold over her eyes and knelt up on the table, securing her wrists to the spreader bar cuffs, determined to be ready when her Master returned.

Panting, whimpering, Samantha could feel the wetness soaking her, trickling down her thighs.

Minutes ticked by and nerves began to set in. Where was he? What was taking so long? Did something happen to him?

She whimpered, tugging at her cuffs.

What if he was mobbed by reporters again? What if he was arrested again? What if it wasn't Everett but the cops who would be coming to get her?

What if someone attacked him and stole his keycard? What if it was a complete stranger who was going to be coming through that door?

Her heart climbed to her throat as she heard the door slowly open.

"So... what have we got here. Oh man, do we have a prize. Lock the door Hank."

Hank? Oh God!

Samantha twisted and dragged at her cuffs, cursing her own recklessness. Why hadn't she held on to the keys?! And where was Everett?

She scraped her cheek against the table, trying desperately to dislodge the blindfold enough to get a look at the two men. Or was it more than two?

She heard a gruff "Oh no you don't," and felt herself dragged up by the hair. The blindfold was secured and she was dropped back to sprawl lewdly displayed on the table.

She whimpered, mortified as her hips rolled, the vibe shuddering away inside her. She could feel the wetness trickling down her thigh for these men, whoever they were, to see, her anticipation of her honeymoon night with her husband turning to humiliation and dread.

"Can you believe the luck? We got this cunt all fucking night long."

She clenched her fists, fighting the throbbing arousal that amped even higher. No!

She twisted her head, listening carefully. Hearing at least one man on either side of her as the second answered, "Yeah. That bastard going to spend the rest of the night in the holding cells down town. He won't be bothering us at all."

What! Was Everett arrested? She struggled against the cuffs. She needed to go to him. She needed to get him out of there. He shouldn't be there!

She froze, feeling a big, leather gloved hand stroke over her ass at the same moment as rough fingers dug at her clit, tugging on the piercing, rolling the throbbing nub. She trembled, attempting to twist away, but she had nowhere to go, no leeway in her bondage.

Blind, unable to see how many strangers were in the room, her mind conjured images of the last time with Conner, surrounded by infinite grasping hands, endless cocks. She whimpered, her hips bucking. Lost in her memories, she almost missed her name.

Recognised! They knew who she was. She bit down against the gag, moaning "noooo"

Then she heard an unmistakable sound, felt the press of a knifepoint between her shoulder blades and she froze, fear rising to swamp her.

"I got you all fucking night whore."

She felt a surge of fresh wetness flood her panties and she pressed her face to the table with a soft sob, tears flooded her cheeks under the leather blindfold. In that moment, she could only thank Heaven above that Everett was not there to see what an utter whore he'd married.

She felt the gloved hand stroking her again. "Look at this sweet ass." He squeezed and stroked. "Seems Ms. Noelle here likes to have her ass beat. Marks are fading a bit though. Shame."

The second voice called back from in front of her, "Look at this. She's got a sweet wooden paddle and a flogger all laid out here. Can't let them go to waste."

Samantha shook her head desperately, straining against the spreader bar.

She barely heard the faint whistling, felt the rush of air against her hot pussy before the heavy thud of a wide wooden paddle impacted her ass, jolting her forward. In the same instant the second blow fell, the vibe inside her ratcheted up in speed.

She whimpered, rolling her hips, straining to press her thighs together, her fists clenching and unclenching spasmodically.

"Oh yes," the voice whispered right into her ear, "you love it don't you, cunt? All your empty little holes are so hungry for cock." Another swat landed. "you want to beg for it, don't you?"

She heard the paddle clatter to the floor. Heard the soft swish of leather falls been shaken out. She twisted her hips, thrusting against empty air, the vibe pushing her closer and closer to the edge of orgasm.

She heard, "take over, Hank. I'm going to fuck this whore's mouth."

A rough hand coiled around her pigtails, dragging her up and a thick cock shoved down her throat at the same moment as the flogger slammed across her ass, the tails curling around between her spread thighs to snap against her throbbing clit.

In that instant, as Samantha recognised the addictive flavour of her Master's cock, the strangers with him ceased to exist. The world narrowed to the vibe inside her, her burning ass and clit, and Everett's cock fucking her throat.

She screamed, a garbled, choking cock-gagged sound as she shuddered into violent, shattering climax.

Even as Samantha lay coughing and gagging, gasping for air, spunk drooling from her nostrils and chin, her hips rolled, the vibe relentlessly buzzing inside her pushing her toward another orgasm.

Rough hands dragged at her hair, pressing her face against the table as Everett's voice growled in her ear. "Clean my fucking table, slut."

She couldn't hold back the whimper as a jolt of excitement shocked through her head to toe, her clit throbbing.

She'd been terrified to admit, even to herself, that a tiny part of her enjoyed the rough treatment she'd gotten from Conner… needed it… even craved it. So afraid that Everett wouldn't be able to give her that.

She shuddered, her hips bucking against empty air as she strained against the cuffs. She was so wrong. Everett was… perfect.

He knew exactly what he wanted, and he wasn't afraid to take it.

He knew exactly what she needed, and he gave it all to her.

He was the man she loved. Her husband. Her Master.

She flicked out her tongue, licking blindly at the table, doing her best to find every drop of her Master's precious cum, not wanting to let a single drop go to waste.

The heavy clatter of chain behind her startled her and she spun her head reflexively toward it even though she was blindfolded. She held her breath, listening intently as he walked back across the room.

Suddenly, something large and smooth, something cold and metal slide through her pussy lips. There and gone.

She moaned, pushing her hips back, wanting more. Wanting anything that would help push her over the edge looming so close, and yet so far.

Whatever it was pulled away… and then… pressure against her ass… stretching her tight hole. She couldn't stop the high pitched keen as it stretched her painfully wide, stopping at that widest point for a moment, then retreating. Again and again.

She whimpered and writhed, struggling against the cuffs and spreader, but there was no escape. She was his to use, however he chose.

When he finally pushed it in, Samantha let out a long, shuddering moan, feeling the knob slide deeper and deeper inside, intensifying the fullness, the pressure of the little vibe. She felt the chain laying against her back, the tug on her ass and collar at the same time as she heard a soft snick.

An ass hook, she realised with a shudder. She arched her back, lifting her hips and throat in an attempt to ease the pull, but as she did, the vibe shifted inside and she cried out.

Everett dragged her head up by the hair again, tearing away the blindfold and Samantha could only blink in the sudden bright.

"So... what exactly do you want me to do for you... boss."

Excitement curled in her belly and Samantha couldn't hold back the wide, incandescent smile, remembering the first time she heard those exact words. The night Everett took her. Claimed her as his. The night he showed her who owned her, body and soul.

She drew a breath, but before the adoration could spill from her lips, he cut her off.

"No. No words whore. You see..."

She rolled her hips, arousal rapidly transforming into desperation for more. She was being consumed in a blaze of hunger and humiliation, of love and need and desire, of submission and service.

"Ms. Noelle... no... Samantha... no... not that either. Sammy. That works... if there is one thing you have taught me with your infinite wisdom, it's when you get your hands on a breaking news story, you ride that bitch all the way to the top. It was the key to your success... and thus will be the key to mine. Sammy... your my breaking story."

She whimpered softly, feeling the wetness trickling down her open thighs. That night was the beginning, but they'd come so much farther, had so much more. She twisted, feeling the tug on her ass and her collar as she did. And tonight was only the start of what would hopefully be a long, long life together.

Everett lifted the remote, waving it in front of her.

"This time, we are doing things different. If you cum... if you don't fight with every fiber of your being to not cum, then I just might leave you trussed up like a turkey all night long while I sleep all alone... for which I will punish you for of course."

Samantha's eyes widened, her mind flying back to their dungeon visit. Her 'public punishment'. Her struggle to hold off her orgasm for her Master. The unbelievable intensity of her climax when he'd finally permitted it.

He grinned, as if he could read her mind and her eyes flew back to the remote as he flicked the intensity of the little vibe up a notch.

No words, whore. She clenched her teeth with a moan, remembering his words then too. Objects don't speak.

She shuddered, writhing, lifting her back in a futile attempt to ease the vibration, but could only cry out as the shift in position dragged at her throat and ass, cutting off her breath as the chain between collar and ass hook pulled taut.

She was dimly aware of Everett walking away, settling on the couch, flipping channels. The Voltron theme song filled the room and she heard the TV remote thunk onto the end table.

She tried to glare at him, but her twisting dragged on the anal hook, pressing at against the little vibe, setting off a chain reaction of bucking and gasping and tightly clenched eyes, as she fought to hold back the climax pushing at her.

She panted, soft little whimpering puffs of breath, her fingers clenching and unclenching as she pulled uselessly at the cuffs. She could feel the trembles beginning in her thighs. She bit her lips hard, desperate to hold back the pleas.

No words, whore.

There was no where she could escape, no position she could hold that would ease the rising tide. Her toes curled. Her nipples throbbed, rings dragging on the table. Her clit throbbed with every beat of her heart.

It was coming and she couldn't stop it. Not even for the Master she loved with all her heart.

Tears overflowed her eyes, her fingernails digging into her clenched fists. She shook her head desperately side to side, each move only serving to tug on the anal hook, nudge the vibe harder against her walls.

Her hips rolled, her thighs trembling with the attempts to drag against the spreader and press them closed. Her breath was a steady whistling keen of desperation and need.

Too much…

Too much…

She wasn't going to be able to hold it…

"Yeah... fear is your aphrodisiac isn't it whore? I said fucking shove your ass on my cock!"

Samantha trembled violently. Her eyes flew open, the dark words sending her back to her knees, back to being forced to fuck herself on Conner's cock. Back to the arousal, the intensity, the dark horror of those moments. Back to her first betrayal of her Master.

The vibe kicked up a notch, buzzing inside her, sending her flying into a wild, thrashing shuddering orgasm. She screamed around the gag, bucking and spasming.

A rough hand grabbed at her hair, dragging her head back as the thick cock pushing at her ass shoved in, forcing its way deep.

Her eyes rolled back, her vision narrowing to a pinpoint in a sea of black as she almost lost consciousness.

"No one said you could fucking sleep you cunt! Fuck this cock hard!!"

Her world spun. She was back in that dingy motel room, with Conner's cock slamming into her ass, stretching her, rocking her body with his pounding thrusts. Only it wasn't Conner.

It was Everett.

It was her Master.

She squealed, bucking and thrashing as orgasm after orgasm exploded. She barely had time to recover and catch her breath before the next slammed her, pushing her higher and higher into the stratosphere.

When he finally pulled free she could only lay panting, trembling, her ass and pussy swollen and red, her own juices dribbling down her thighs, her Master's cum drooling from her ass. It was as close as she'd ever been to pure euphoria.

Everett walked around the table, lifting her head to smear his cock over her cheeks and forehead. "You didn't get permission to cum and oh were you so naughty. I am going to have to think about what to do with you next."

He dropped her head back to the table and walked away.

Samantha felt the emotion welling up, tears filling her eyes.

Before she realised he'd turned, he was back, gently lifting her head, removing the gag.

"What is wrong slave? Why are you crying?"

Samantha shook her head. What could she say? How could she explain… make him understand?

It was such a maelstrom of emotion swirling inside her, she could barely understand it herself. Horror and terror and overwhelming love. Bone melting satisfaction and throbbing hunger.

"I… can't… it's nothing…" she ducked her chin, turning her eyes away from that searching look.

Everett scowled, dragging her head back up. "Not answering is not an option, slave. When your Master asks you a question, you fucking answer it!"

The sobs Samantha was fighting back burst free. "I love you so much!!"

Everett shook his head with a confused half-grin. "Well, I love you, t-…"

"What's WRONG with me?!" Samantha wailed. "How can I want to be treated this way? How can I need you to whip me, to humiliate and degrade me? What kind of wife… what kind of mother… can a woman like that be?"

"When I realised it was you, when I recognised you… it made everything so good. So perfect. But you had to know… must've seen… how turned on I was before that." Samantha squeezed her eyes shut, too horrified, too humiliated… too afraid to meet his eyes. "I was bound helpless, spread on display for strangers and I was aroused."

The pain of that admission sliced through her heart. "How can you love a woman like that?"