"Yes yes." He responded urgently, without wasting time checking what she had brought to him. "Place them on the bed, then get over here." He was stood, wearing nothing but his trousers and thus baring his neatly toned physique to her as she stumbled in. He was bouncing his foot on the floor to help with his impatience, but it wouldn't work much longer.<br/><br/>Once she made it all the way to him, he took her hands and pulled them high. His bed was a large four-poster and if Zoey rose to her tiptoes then she could just about run her fingers over it. Quentin had already unravelled some of the fabric used to decorate the bed into long, bunched up coils. He hoisted Zoey off the floor and gently guided her hands into the nooses, before tightening them around her wrists. She ended up having to stretch her toes to even feel the carpet below, but the linen held her up regardless. He stepped back and smiled to himself at the display of her dangling there, stretched to her fullest extent. It was a cold smile, though.<br/><br/>"While you can talk, I want you to tell me how everything makes you feel. When you can only scream, I want you not to hold back a single yell or tear. That way eventually, when you can do neither, we will know it is time for me to claim your very consciousness." Only Quentin could say such words with such a cool, unconcerned tone. They excited him - the sadist in him was finally getting to play without being pushed by the angry beast! - but he kept his words very matter of fact. It left no room for thoughts of escape or mercy. "If you do that then, when you wake again, I will help tend to you. Remain grateful that I keep you, accept what I will have done to you, and you will have earned a place at my side, and in my bed. You understand what all of that means, don't you?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>