Jules is forced to follow by the painful pulling of her cruel fingers on his sensitive nipple.  Trying to keep up with her, hand going to the wall as he stumbles in those high heels.<br/><br/>Jules stops on entering the room, the sight of all those whips and chains and cages and other wicked items he cannot fathom what they might do, other than cause pain.  Cause him pain.  His eyes dart about the room, trying to take them in, fear growing as he looks from device to deice.<br/><br/>Her cold, sharp tone snaps Jules' attention back to her.  He nods his head, his voice soft as he answers her.  "I... because I got the wrong bottle of wine?" he says, trying not to fidget there before her.  Trying to ready himself for what ever she might do to him.  Lowering his gaze to the floor, hoping to avoid showing any more fear, or to give her any ideas of what scares him most.<br/><br/>To be truthful, it is all fearful.