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calibrate the machine.” He cleared his throat. “Is your name Kayla Sutton?”
    “Yes.”
    “Do you live in Europe?”
    “Yes.”
    He cleared his throat again and peered at the paper in his hands. “Let’s begin. Did you have any inappropriate contact with a man other than your Master?”
    I swallowed hard and thought about Ian. Considering he hadn’t even touched me, and I’d only spoken to him briefly to push him out of my life—probably for good—I was fairly certain in my answer. “No.”
    “Did you break any of your Master’s rules?”
    “N-no.”  
    Mr. Hughes marked something on the printout. “Did you eat fish for dinner every night this week?”  
    “Yes.”
    “Did you take off your Master’s collar?”
    “No.”
    “Did you masturbate?”
    My face burned at such an intimate question. “No.” But, God, how I’d wanted to.
    He asked a few more questions, and when it was over I experienced the sweetest sense of relief. Gage reentered the room after I’d been unhooked from the machine.  
    “Did she pass?”
    “Yes.”  
    “Go on down to the basement and prepare. I’ll be down shortly.”  
    “Yes, Master.” I hurried from the room and entered the basement with flaming cheeks. That had been more mortifying than going to the gynecologist. A few moments snuck by as I leaned against the door, breathing heavy as uncertainty took hold of me. He wanted me to “prepare.” I suddenly felt lost; without Gage to dictate my every move, I wasn’t sure what to do. Descending the stairs, I entered his “dungeon” and remembered how the cold leather of the bench chilled my skin, how the sharp sting of his whip struck with the speed of a snake; and more recently how that strip of leather had the power to set my crotch on fire . . . how his tongue ignited a different kind of burn.  
    I stepped into the room, brought my fingers to my blouse, and began unhooking the buttons. Instinctively, I knew what he wanted. My nipples pebbled in the chilly air, and as I laid my clothing neatly on the couch, tingles shivered to my toes. I moved to the center of the floor and fell to my knees.  
    And closed my eyes and waited.  
    A drift of air was the only indication he’d entered. His clothes whispered as he came near, and I hated myself for craving the warmth he radiated.
    Dampness flooded the spot between my thighs. I craved much more than body heat. Gage had done something to me—flipped a switch—and despite the harsh punishments he issued, I yearned for another taste of explosive liberation. I’d taken it once without permission; somehow, I knew he’d send me into another realm when he coaxed an orgasm from me of his own free will. It was that foggy-headed reality I hungered for most—a time when thought wasn’t possible, when pain and difficult decisions didn’t exist. Gage had enslaved me, and by doing so he also freed me on some level.  
    “Are you ready to fully submit, Kayla?”
    “Yes, Master.”
    He ran a hand over my hair. “Why are you on your knees?”
    “To please you, Master.”
    He groaned. “You are, baby, and I can’t wait to return the favor.” My heart began to race. The haze was taking over already, and he had barely touched me. “Though your pleasure will come with pain.” He tilted my chin up. “Did you send the doctor away?”
    “Yes, Master.”
    “How did he take it?”
    Ian’s angry, hurt expression flashed in my mind. “Not well.”
    “And he won’t come back?”
    I blinked. “I don’t think so.”  
    “How does that make you feel?”
    “Upset, Master.” The truth spilled from my lips without thought or effort. The way he commanded my compliance, his strong voice floating above me as I kneeled on the hard floor, reinforced the dynamics of our relationship.  
    “Yet you obeyed me, and you’re being truthful about it.”  
    “Yes, Master. I told you I was yours, and I meant it.” Five more weeks. I could give him that.  
    “I needed to know