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Novice sub Danielle undergos her first punishment enema,

Nye touched the cut gingerly and winced. Pressing his cheek provoked the same automatic response and he was afraid to go near the cut on his lip. Even more afraid to look into his own eyes he forced himself to do so and didn't like what he saw. It was a stranger who looked back at him, a stranger whom he didn't understand and didn't like at all.

With a moan he let himself sink onto the couch and curled up, hugging himself. His head was throbbing and he felt sick and frightened and shaken to his core. How could Adam have hurt him like this?

After a while he realised that he was shaking uncontrollably and was bone achingly cold. Dragging himself off the sofa he dressed, fumbling with trembling fingers. Still shaking he stumbled from the room and made for the bar. Jon looked up and saw him coming. Dropping everything he ducked out from under the counter and caught Nye around the waist. He sagged against him, weeping softly.

Calling to one of the bar staff, Jon supported Nye to a booth and then let him slip from his grip onto the seat. Nye was boneless, no strength, no heart. He let himself slump forward resting his head on his arms. Jon simply sat with him, rubbing his back, letting him cry, shielding him from the rest of the bar.

When the barman came over with the brandy he handed it wordlessly to Jon and then stood for a moment staring at Nye.

"Tell him Jon."

Jon looked up and shook his head.

"He's going to end up killing him. And if he does that I am going rip his heart out with my bare hands."

"You'll be in a queue mate."

"Don't let it happen Jon."

"What do you think will happen if I tell him?"

"He'll escape."

"For how long? Adam will go after him."

"We can stop him."

"How?"

"We'll find a way. I don't know how but we'll find a way. It's what he does Jon... he ruins people." The young man bowed his head, letting shining chestnut hair fall over his face. "He did it to all of us but Nye's different. He'll kill him before he breaks him like he did to us."

Jon's face hardened. "Over my dead body."

The two men's eyes met for a long moment and then Jon nodded. "Make some calls Luke, get Riz over here..." he paused. "Do you have Marco's number?"

Luke's eyes widened slightly, then he nodded and turned away. "Luke..." Luke turned back... "I'm not saying that I am going to do anything. I'm just going to talk to him."

Jon turned back to Nye who had remained entirely oblivious to the conversation. Jon doubted that he had even been aware that Jon was present, let alone another person and certainly not what they had spoken of.

"Nye... here... have this."

Nye lifted his head and looked at him with dull eyes. John was shocked by the state of his face. He very gently touched the cut over his eyebrow. Nye was so numb with shock he didn't even flinch.

"What happened?"

Nye took a deep drink of the brandy. "I... wanted to go and see my mother and Adam thought it was a bad idea."

"Adam hit you?" Nye nodded. "Because you wanted to go and see your mother?" He nodded again.

"I... he said it wouldn't be good for me. He said that he's my master now and I have to do what he says. I... I do love him Jon... of course I love him and I want to make him happy but... I don't know if I can do this. But if I don't..."

"Adam's a hard man to negotiate with Nye... but he's not a monster. He wouldn't make you do something you really didn't want to do. I've never seen him with anyone the way he is with you. He really does love you."

"Maybe but..." Nye ran his tongue over his torn lip and shook his head. "I've never seen him like this. Why is he like this?"

Nye's eyes pleaded with him and Jon flinched away from him. "He does it because he can. The relationship between master and slave is a complicated one and there is room for compromise and friendship and even love but... You're in his world now Nye and in his world there are absolute rules... and slaves absolutely don't say no to their master, not when they insist. This was a lesson, nothing more, at least not to Adam."

"But.

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