A/N: okay, this took ages. I had some very specific stuff that needed to come out in this chapter, and it was a struggle, I'll be honest. 

Dae

I had an unexpected phone call today. Owen asked me if I wanted to go out with him, for drinks and food. Normal stuff. But it doesn't feel completely normal. I'm friends with Owen, but we haven't hung out without any of the other subs being around before. So I'm nervous when I go to meet him, and I'm ashamed that part of my reason for accepting is because Ellis told me his new Dom is one of Master François' closest friends, and I might get something unimportant I can put Chul-Moo off with by dressing it up as vital information.

"I'm so glad you wanted to meet." He's so cute it's no hardship to give him a crushing hug and I'm proud to walk into the trendy downtown bar with my arm in his, even if I'm instantly conscious of all the eyes on us – not all of them envious. "Why here though?"

"Don't worry, Master Gray is paying."

"He is? Why?" Though I'm relieved, as I don't think my spending allowance will stretch far here.

He blushes all pink and adorable. "He says he's planning on exhausting me so it's important I get down time with friends too."

"Oh. So did he tell you to pick me?"

I can't tell, in the dim blue-ish lights of the bar whether that makes him blush more, but he shuffles like he's uncomfortable.

"Not exactly... how are you finding things?"

"Things?"

"Being a sub. Being new to it. How's shifts in the club going?"

I get a moment to think about how to respond as we order drinks, and get a sweet alcoholic hit to help me along.

"I'm pretty happy with things."

"You getting a contract?"

"I'd like one, I think. Master Chase offered but I wasn't feeling it, though I'll scene with him again."

"Oh? He not your type?"

"No. Maybe...I don't actually know what my type is."

"You dated much before this?"

That prompts a nervous laugh that I know Owen spots for the fake thing it is, but I just tell him 'no' and focus on my drink.

"We getting another one?" I ask, sucking the last bits of liquid from the ice.

"Let's order food. One more drink. And then the club." That's an idea I can get behind.

We have fun. Owen is kind of serious – much more grown up than me – but I like how often I can make him laugh, and I'm skipping up the broad stone steps to the club; buzzed more on the company than the two drinks we had, though I'm not sure if I should consider scening. They have a fairly strict rule about not being drunk, and no one who orders alcohol inside the club is allowed into the private rooms, but I've not had chance to push the rules on arriving with alcohol inside me.

"Hello, Owen." I jump a little at that whiskey-smooth voice behind us as we're signing in.

"Hello, Sir." See, Owen's back to being all perky and sweet. He really is a great sub, and I clench my jaw – I'll never be as good at it as he is.

"Did you enjoy your evening?"

"Yes, thank you, Sir. We had two drinks, like you said I could." Oh, so our limit was mandated by Master Gray. I wonder what Owen would have done if I'd asked for another drink. Everything had seemed so relaxed at the time, but it had all been about control after all.

Once we've signed in, we go upstairs, and I feel like a third wheel. Master Gray has his hand on Owen's elbow all the way up the wide staircase, being all sensitively solicitous. It is pretty adorable though, the way Owen responds to him like they're connected by ropes. I expect him to drop me as soon as we get through the door, but instead he whispers in Master Gray's ear and drags me off to the locker room.

"I don't have any spare clothes here. Besides, I wasn't planning on scening."

Owen is, apparently, not put off. He pulls his own jeans off and replaces them with a teeny tiny pair of shorts before waving a similar pair at me.

"Borrow mine. They'll be a little too big, but they'll hang nicely on your hips."

I put them on, and he's right; they hang just low enough to show off my sharp hip bones, but he goes to walk out without putting a shirt back on.

"Owen," I hiss, "I can't go out like this. I need something on top."

"You don't. You're gorgeous. Such a smooth boy." It sounds a bit weird coming from his mouth, and I can't help looking at him quizzically. "I know." He giggles, and maybe those two drinks affected him a bit more than I'd thought. "Tell me, Dae. Who is the hottest sub?"

"Uh, well there's loads of really hot guys. Probably Ellis, though, or maybe Nikki."

"I'd get why you'd say that. I'd probably agree. They're so muscular and sexy. But not that many of the Doms would choose them for themselves, for all they like to see them up on stage."

"Why not?"

He doesn't answer, but raises an eyebrow. "Would it surprise you to know that if we lined all the subs up and all the Doms up, and told them to pick, a lot more of them would be coming for you and me than Ellis and Nikki?"

"Uh, yeah, it would. Not you, though, I mean, you're beautiful. You look like a model." He does, too; cheekbones and dimples to die for, with huge green eyes.

"We're small. Perfect subby size. You need to start owning your positives Dae. You're so pretty it hurts, and I know you're sensitive about your body, but the guys out there, the ones you want, love that. Don't think I haven't noticed that you aren't into guys as big as Master François or Master Landon, who like taller and more muscular subs. You're into the guys who love petite, delicate subs. Own it," he says again, punctuating it with a none-too-delicate poke in my side.

We go out into the main lounge giggling, but I'm thinking about what he said. I haven't had many people even tell me I'm pretty – though Chase always called me Pretty Boy, and I liked it, even if I wasn't taking what he said literally, just put it down to a drawling nickname. But maybe I can listen to Owen – it isn't as if he has a motive. Normally, I would be conscious of my bare chest, but those two drinks have done their job, and I can dance with Owen, who moves almost as well as I do, and enjoy people looking instead.

Still, I wasn't factoring in someone approaching, and jump when I hear a deep voice by my ear.

"Owen, introduce me to your friend."

"Of course, Master Michael. Dae, this is Master Michael."

I keep my eyes down, like I've been trained to, but he lifts my chin with his hand until I'm looking into his dark eyes. It makes me shudder a little, because the Doms aren't meant to touch so soon, but the danger isn't entirely unwelcome. It's a dance, deciding who to scene with, even if I've only witnessed it from outside before now, when I had the safety of being known to be with Chase, but that much has been clear, and I can almost feel the concern that I know is in Owen's eyes.

Master Michael is very handsome, just square-jawed enough to not be beautiful, and I lift my head properly, moving my chin off his hand and looking at him properly.

"Hello, Master Michael, it's a pleasure to meet you."

He smirks a bit, and I can almost see his thoughts, because every Dom gets them. The ones thinking how bratty and sassy I am, even when all I'm doing is saying hello. Some of them sneer at it, but this guy seems to like it, his eyes sparkling with something that looks like amusement. I still can only just stop myself from rolling my eyes. It gets old, even if it's all I expect.

There's an even bigger presence then, and I realize Master Gray has approached Owen, and casually put a protective arm around his shoulder.

"Michael, how are you? Haven't seen you in a while."

"Gray. I've been overseas. Owen is with you?"

"Looks like it." Master Gray is stroking the cuff on Owen's wrist that has 'Taken' written on it in rubies, which is a pretty big sign, if you ask me. I can almost taste the testosterone flying around; it's obvious these two do not like each other, one bit. Works for me though, as Master Michael leans his body into me, and I can feel how solid his chest is against my back, and my shudder this time is very much into it.

"Will you be okay, Dae? Owen and I are leaving."

"Yes, thank you, Master Gray." He looks at me again, super intently, which is a bit uncomfortable, because he's pretty intense, but Owen's gazing up at him like he hung the moon, and that softens the tableau.

"He'll be more than fine, Gray," Master Michael says, and it's my turn for the glitter-eyes, though Master Gray doesn't seem impressed; just huffs as Owen gives me a hug.

I don't even really know what happens next; I just find myself kneeling, naked, in one of the private rooms. It's not like I'm particularly used to the way regular folk hook up, never mind BDSM people, but that happened faster and with less conversation than I expected, just a murmured instruction from him and here I am, shivering with a pleasurable kind of anticipation.

"It's been a while since I had such a pretty little slut all to myself." He has a sexy voice, and is super-sexy Dommy in his shiny leather pants, but I don't like it when he goes behind me and crouches, holding my shoulders, hissing the things he wants to do to me, but it feels like he's trying to make sure I'm scared of him, the way he's doing it, and he's calling me names, which is making me screw my face up in discomfort.

"Don't." It's out before I can even think about it, not that it means anything to him.

"You don't want me to tell you how delicious and hungry you look? Like an eager little whore?" I mean, how do I reply to that? 'I don't really like it, no'? But maybe Chase had told him I do like it. I don't know what kind of stuff gets updated on all that paperwork they keep here, and I did like it the way Chase did it, because he never made it a bad thing, which was such a change. Master Michael isn't doing it that way. It sounds like a bad thing in his growly, angry voice.

He hoists me up.

"I asked you a question, bitch." Ooh, I really don't like that, and the only thing that stops me from swearing in his big dumb face is the slap. He fucking slaps me! Right across the face. I'm in shock for a moment, mouth agape. It wasn't even a hard slap, I've taken way worse, but, what? I did not sign up for that bullshit.

"I don't-,"

"You don't get to decide, slut." He's moving me now, lifting me up onto the bed, and he has rope in his hands, red rope, which he's tying tight – too tight, really; it's rubbing my wrists – until my ankles and wrists are tied together, behind me, and he pushes my thighs wide.

He's being rougher than Chase ever was, and I wasn't ready for this, but I won't break from it. I can cope with anything that's thrown at me. I think (though the memory of the scene where I almost had to safeword on Nikki does come to my mind, and the goosebumps that I can feel raising across my shoulders are not the fun kind).

"I can do this." That's all I say, and he slaps my inner thigh, hard enough that I'm sure I hear an echo, and I definitely hear my own pained yelp. That actually hurt! "Hey! What are you doing?" I wasn't signing up to this, but then I remember we haven't even talked about expectations, and I don't think that's what I've been taught is what we're meant to do, and the realization that those cocktails affected me a lot more than I'd known is not a happy revelation, when he slaps me again, even harder.

"Cheeky brat. Looks like you need that beating out of you." What? Beating? No way. This isn't the dungeon, for fuck's sake.

I need to slow this down. Get him to listen to what I'll agree to for the scene.

"Yell-," I don't even get the whole word out, because he's shoved a ball gag in, and I'm panicking, because he hasn't handed me something to safeword, and he's walking away, I'm shaking and trying to wriggle out of the bonds; trying not to cry but I won't be successful long, knowing he's going to turn back with a whip or something.

He turns just as the door bursts open, a small bell in his hand and a shocked look on his face. Mike is standing there with one of the other security men – Samson, I think – and I've never been more grateful to see anything, burrowing my head into his chest even after he's unfastened the gag, trying to get my breathing under control.

* * * * *

"Mike, you first." Mike had wrapped me in a huge blanket after he'd helped me put my shorts back on, and carried me to Master François' office, and he's sitting next me now, with his arm around my shoulders. I feel a bit guilty, because it's nice, too nice, and Mike is very not available – he's married, and happy – but it feels so good, and safe, and I can't help but nuzzle closer. Michael is sat opposite, and has a definitely shell shocked look on his face.

"Watching the screens, Boss, saw Dae with Michael. Bit concerned about the roughness, because Dae hasn't gone in for that so far, so kept a wee eye on it. Saw Dae attempt to safeword and be gagged-," Michael tries to interrupt, but Master François just shoots him a look and he shuts right up, but looks even more confused. "Decided to intervene, and here we are. Dae was clearly distressed."

"Dae, is what Mike says correct?"

Master François is only a little bit terrifying, so I take a deep breath. Nothing will get me into trouble here other than not being truthful.

"Yes, but-," And, obviously, I get ignored.

"Michael, you have something to say?"

"Uh, yes. He didn't safeword...or, I didn't hear him, anyway. And I was giving him a bell when Mike came bursting through the door."

"Well, he says he did. So you didn't hear. Besides, just by reading his lips on the recording it's clear he was trying to. And you know as well as I do you did that all wrong." He gestures at his laptop, where he's just watched the recording. "I didn't see any discussion before you entered into the scene, and you know that's against the rules. Do you even know what kind of sub Dae is?"

"He's a pretty boy?" Michael sounds nervous, and I roll my eyes at him just making bullshit up on the spot.

"As you can see, he's a brat, Michael, which you would have known if you actually had a conversation of more than thirty seconds with him before jumping him. I don't think I've ever seen you with a brat, and it seems you are clearly not suited. I watched the playback, and Dae didn't do anything that should have warranted such harsh treatment, and you never bind someone without getting their express consent before."

I just want to get changed and go home now, so I'm not ready for what comes next.

"I'm going to have to punish you, Michael."

"What?" I can't help it. This isn't good, though I shouldn't be surprised that I'm going to have an instant reputation as difficult. But, weirdly, Michael doesn't even look pissed. He's just hanging his head. He looks ashamed, if anything.

"Do you have something to say?"

"I'm sorry. I should have had the discussion. I misinterpreted the kind of sub he was due to our interaction in the main room, when he was with Owen." He says it like that explains things, but Master François nods knowingly, so maybe it does. "And I definitely should have established his boundaries before commencing the scene. I got...over excited at the thought of having a scene with someone so pretty."

"You should have spoken to Patrice. You haven't even met Dae before. I know you've been away for a couple of months, but that isn't an excuse to forget everything you have been told. You will take twenty strikes of the paddle, and you will have to attend five refresher training sessions."

"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry Dae."

I don't quite get why he's being so...so subby right now.

"Dae, as the injured party, you choose whether Michael's punishment is public or private." Oh. That's why, I'm guessing. I'm feeling bad for him. Sure, I can see why Master François is saying he should have done more checking, but I went along with it without thinking twice, and if Master François finds out I had two drinks before coming to the club, it won't only be Michael getting a paddling, so I'm not going to push it.

"Private, Sir."

"Very well. Michael, remove your pants."

I'm thankful to get home. There was something almost sickening about watching a Dom – watching someone I'd wanted to dominate me – getting so thoroughly Dommed himself. I tried to be fine with it. I knew if it had been another sub I would have felt bad for them, but it made me feel some other kind of feeling. Almost angry. I guess I fucked up, not saying something sooner, but he fucked up way worse. I'm still thinking about him hitting me. Do people seriously go in for that bullshit? Being slapped around for fun? It's so not the same thing as being spanked. It's so- so fucking degrading.

Huh, I don't even see it coming, as I walk into my dark apartment. This isn't just a slap. My head whips to the side and my cheek is throbbing. I clutch my face, trying to make myself small as I twist away.

"Where have you been, slut?" Chul-Moo's voice is a nasty hiss and I whimper like a fucking dog.

"I was trying to get information," I promise, my voice all stupid and high-pitched. I try not to; I know he loves it when I'm scared, and I hate giving him that satisfaction, but I can't help it.

"What did you get?" I can't even answer him as he shakes me around. I go floppy – I learned that one a long time ago; he can't accuse me of anything but it makes it harder for him – and he shoves me back onto the old couch, which creaks under the force.

I look at him through my bangs, breathing heavily in an attempt to calm down. If he beats me now I can't explain bruises away, and I'm meant to be doing a shift in the club tomorrow.

"The boss is really thoughtful about the subs."

"What? How is that meant to help?" He's furious – all red faced and grossly sweating – stalking towards me with his hand raised.

"You want him to sell you the business don't you? And he won't. But you can encourage him if you promise to look after the subs the same way he does."

Chul-Moo gets a look on his face that doesn't make sense – a twisted, nasty look. I still wonder what Master François ever did to him that makes Chul-Moo hate him as much as he seems to, but it's not worth asking him, not while I'm trying to be as invisible as possible.

"Yes, there might be something there. Now come here and show me what use all that time wasted on training was."

I get to my knees in front of him and try to remember I can do this. I can get through it.