Zoey winced as he tugged her hair harder before letting her go and she could not help but sag slightly in relief as the pain receded. Her glare had lost some of the fire that it had had before but not nearly enough. She was clearly a willful girl and, even though her cheeks stung and her scalp throbbing painfully she was stubborn as ever. He was right about not reacting, she was very disappointed at his indifference. It took some of the wind out of her sails that he did not retaliate. It would have fuelled her hatred and given her more strength to resist. She had no doubt that was precisely the reason she got no reaction. Zoey watched as he simply leaned back in his seat and looked out the window. She used the opportunity to stretch as much as his foot on her leg allowed. The manacles and the strap were digging painfully into the soft, supple flesh of the young lady's body and she shifted to try and ease the ache.<br/><br/>The feeling of the carriage slowing made her stomach sink. They must be arriving and she craned her long delicate neck in an attempt to see out of the window at where they were. Distracted as she was, she could not suppress a loud, yet somehow very melodic cry of pain as he put all of his weight on the foot that was across her thighs. It was only a moment but it felt much longer and she knew that this was his punishment for her silence. He stepped off of her and she knew that the fair skin of her legs would be marred by dark bruises by the morning. Once he had departed the carriage she fell back onto her shapely backside and stretched her legs fully. Her knees popped as they straightened for the first time in what felt like days. She pouted as she noticed the reddened chafed skin around where the manacles sat on her ankles. She had always been proud of her fair and flawless skin and in less than an hour  in his care, her cheeks, thighs and ankles all bore signs of his abuse. She pointedly ignored the fact that most of these had been a reaction to her own behaviour.<br/><br/>As she flexed her aching legs she saw Quentin talking with his driver. She found it very strange that both men were smiling and talking as though they were friends. It seemed very much at odds with her perception of the man. With her legs toward the door, Zoey did not realize taht as she moved her legs the driver might catch a glimpse under the hem of the dress she wore. Then her new owner left and the driver leaned into the carriage and took a firm hold of her ankles and pulled her toward the door of teh carriage. His hands were rough and calloused but oddly careful of her reddened skin near the shackles she wore. The sudden jerk bunched the dress around her wait and she was laying flat, unable to stop herself falling prone with her armas bound as they were. With an indignant yelp she frantically squeezed her thighs together to try and preserve some modesty. He passed her long, thrashing legs out to another set of hands, presumably Jack's and she was quickly carried into the house. One strong hand clamped over her mouth to keep her from making a scene even as she thrashed in the two men's iron grip.<br/><br/>While the placement of their hands and the way they groped and squeezed could be explained away as them just trying to hold her still she did not thing it was a coincidence. Her thrashing increased, only to stop abruptly when the driver made a rather lewd comment about enjoying the way women wriggled. Rather unceremoniously she was set on her feet once inside the house and with each man taking up a position on either side of her and gripping each shoulder in a painfully strong grip she was marched to the stairs. Being hobbled as she was they were more dragging her but neither seemed to have a problem. Zoey felt an intense shame and violation as their free hands "steadied" her by groping her legs and backside. By the time they had climbed the stairs and left her standing in a rather lavish room, she was sniffling and fighting back tears. In her old life men such as them would have been too afraid of the reprisal to even look at her with such thoughts in their mind but now they had not the slightest problems molesting her perfect little body. She just stood there, her ordeal momentarily humbling her. She did not even move from where they stood her. She heard the door open again behind her and knew it was him. She straightened up and took a deep breath to steady herself as he stepped in front of her. The look of hatred was back on her pretty features along with a little bit of fear and curiosity when she saw the bag he carried.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>