<strong>Madison with Moussad</strong><br/><br/>Procedure, she reminded herself when the leash was clipped once more followed by the damned manacles. Procedure was stupid. Boring and far too predictable. There was a slightly bored look to get face while she took in Moussad's features. The moustache she could still feel on her sex as if it had never left the night before. But his eyes were different, similar to the way he had looked at her when he brought her to his room. It was perplexing to say the least.<br/><br/>Madison repeated the foreign words, the exact translation she assumed to be "We're leaving," but there was no way to tell. They were on their way once more, out of music room five and into the bustling corridor with traffic worse than rush hour on a weekday. News was travelling quickly, those who had seen and heard the duet beween herself and Evie were telling the others. All eyes seemed be on her once more, some pointing, others murmuring. At this rate they would need a real performance area. If she were to cooperate next time that was.