"I don't know if I'm a good sla-ave," Felicity began, her voice cracking a little, and she paused to take a deep breath. Her fingers spread slowly to flatten against his knee, and then draw away again, continuing the soft little tracings a little higher. "I am... a new slave. And I do wish to please you... even if it is just to try to keep you from hurting me much, you said that it's the pleasure that matters. If the reasons why don't matter, and I do try to please you, that makes me a, a good slave, does it not, m'lord?"<br/><br/>The words came out slowly - partly hesitant, partly as if she were struggling to work it out as she was speaking. By the time she finished, she realized how much she'd said, and her eyes slid wide to look at him, and then drop to the floor, shadowy under his chair.