He mulled her response over, his mind stripping the little gadget apart so that he might mentally tweak it; tightening this coil or stretching that section another millimeter or two to push it that little bit further. These were the thoughts that would bounce around his head often off and on until he could remake a version two of the thing. Then, of course, Zoey could spend an afternoon shuddering on the floor... He looked forward to that, and Zoey could see it in his eyes - and feel in a slight stirring of his lap - without knowing quite what it was she was witnessing.<br/><br/>When he stopped feeding her it was more because he grew bored of passing spoonfuls of the stew toward her than because it ran out, although by then Zoey had been treated to what almost amounted to a full meal anyway. He could feel her proximity and his thoughts of her testing his gadget moving him toward a state he didn't want to be in, so he pushed her firmly off his lap and decided to turn his attention to dragging the former cooks into line. He could always indulge himself later, but first there was one or two outstanding jobs to perform.<br/><br/>"Tidy yourself up, I'll bring those young men to the sitting room. You know where everything is, pick what you think is best to show them their place." He shifted and started to stand, before pausing and adding,just to be sure: "Nothing kinky. I want them beaten into line, not given a taste for dominant whores."<br/><br/>With that he finished standing and stretches his arms, rolling his shoulders back, before leaving the room to drag the soon-to-sorry trio from where they'd been unceremoniously left in a storage room. Quentin coaxed the anger back into himself; they were his employees, and if they wanted a second chance they were damn well going to learn their place. Zoey was *his* cocksleeve, not theirs. With raised voice and liberal use of his powerful body to push them toward their destination he moved them, before insisting they move up to the wall and remove their shirts. "Any of you that don't want a job tomorrow can get out of my house. The rest of you little shits are going to be taught your places." None of them moved; well paying and easy jobs were hard to come by, after all.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>