Sam noted his Master's displeasure, feeling a twinge of rage towards the proud bitch who had just walked into his life.  Had she simply looked away, he might have been able to get away with it.  The pair talked animatedly, causing the hairs on the back of Sam's neck to stand up on end.  Certainly, Thorn talked this way to her victims, but this was... different, somehow.  Sam even sensed an undercurrent of sexuality between the two women, deepening the pit of anger growing in his gut.<br/><br/>The rest of the meal was warm, on the surface, yet Sam knew quite well what was going to happen to him.  As the meal wound down, he picked up a fork and drove it into his palm, trying to acclimate himself to the sort of pain he would be experiencing.  Yet, he could not drive the fork deep enough into his own flesh, not in public.  Sam sighed in disgust, knowing he certainly deserved to be punished for such weakness.<br/><br/><br/><br/>45 minutes later, Sam was naked and hanging from the ceiling by a rope wrapped around his wrists, clenching his teeth as the stress on his shoulders mounted, feeling somewhat uncomfortable from the blindfold wrapped around his head.  The basement was cold and dark, just as he remembered it, and the situation had him slightly aroused already.