Margareta, Callan's cook, made us a delicious lunch– because, in Callan's words, I'd slept through breakfast.

Callan was an early riser, apparently. He'd already been up for hours, working out, and did some business while he waited for me to wake up.

His place was...meticulous. There were no personal touches in his apartment, but everything was clean lines and perfection. It was modern, with lots of black and steel details–in other words, the complete opposite of Mateo.

While it all was impressive, it didn't feel like a home. Callan had said he mostly was at the club from morning to evening and only slept here, so maybe this wasn't his home either–his club was.

"We need to talk about what you did this morning," I said between a mouthful of the pancakes. I'd calmed down a bit, but I was still irritated over what he'd done.

Callan nodded.

"Didn't we agree that you guys wouldn't control my life? Because it certainly felt like you did this morning. I need to work, Callan. Not everyone is rich as hell, and I got a lot of expenses to cover." I kept my voice neutral and calm– I'd done all the screaming I needed to earlier.

Callan sighed. "Yeah, you're right. I didn't mean to overstep, Bella. I just...this will take some adjusting for me too. Taking care of my people is something I do without thinking everything through. I called in because I knew how exhausted you were yesterday, and even a good night's sleep won't fix everything."

"But shouldn't that have been up to me to decide?" I interjected.

"Yes, I should've let you decide for yourself if you were up for going to work. Bella, I'll never regret taking care of you, but I do regret not giving you an option. This relationship is as new to me as it is to you, and I'm learning." Callan looked so sincere when he talked, and I believed him. Didn't mean I wasn't still annoyed because I was, but it was good that we got to talk it through, so he understood where I stood on that subject.

"I get that. You were all looking for a slave and instead got a sub. Is...is this how being your slave would be like? You'd control my life without giving me a choice?" I had to ask. Ever since the topic first was presented to me, I'd been curious. The word slave held such a negative meaning, I couldn't understand why someone would choose it. I wasn't judging anyone who wanted that though; if they liked it and decided they would go for it, good for them.

"It could be like that, yes. There are more restrictions for a slave than a submissive. Not every master has total control over their slave or even wants to have that; Some people micromanage. Others are more lenient. Though, when masters and slaves make a contract, the slaves can put down their hard limits which the master won't cross," he explained.

I nodded. I wanted to ask which kind Callan was, but I decided I wasn't ready for that answer. I didn't want to think about how much they were missing out by having me instead of their own slave. Instead, I changed the subject. We'd both said what we needed to say about this morning.

"When do I know which days I'll spend with you guys?" I asked as I finished up the pancakes. Callan had eaten even faster than Mateo, which was a feat of its own. But there was something about the way he'd eaten that...bugged me? I didn't know, there was just something strange about it. It was like he was afraid the food would disappear before he'd eaten it.

"Right, we forgot to talk about that yesterday. I'm sorry, that's on me. I already have the schedule for this week, and I figured I'll email you the days each Sunday. Does that work for you?" His eyes were on my mouth, tracking my tongue as I licked the remanence of syrup from my lips.

With his eyes on me like that, I had trouble focusing on the conversation. Was it always going to be like that? Him–them– distracting me just by being in my presence?

What were we talking about again? Oh, right, the scheduling.

"Sure, that works. How's this week's?" There wasn't one of the men I looked more forward to spend more time with than the next, which was seriously surprising. They were all intriguing in different ways. Mateo was this carefree guy who wanted to put people at ease. Still, I had no doubt the women parading in their house in the morning affected him growing up. Callan was almost always serious and in charge of a situation; I felt like there was something huge behind his somber façade. And Gideon...he was a whole other story, but still, there was something about him that drew me in– I just didn't know what, yet.

"Mateo will have you tomorrow until Wednesday morning. You're with me Thursday to Friday morning. From Friday to Saturday morning will be all of us as a group. You'll stay with Gideon Saturday to Sunday," Callan listed it all from memory. So that meant today, Wednesday, and Saturday was my "free" days.

"Sounds good. As long as this won't come between my work and school," I stated. "What happened this morning...it can't happen again. I got rent to pay, and I can't miss work."

"Understood." He nodded.

"Great. So, are you driving me home, or am I taking an Uber?" It wasn't that I didn't want to be here. But, with these next days spent mostly at their places, I could use some me-time as well.

Callan looked at me like I'd offended him. "Of course, I'll drive you. You ready to go now?"

I nodded; it wasn't like I had anything to pack.

"Grab some shoes from the closet. Those heels of yours don't look that comfortable."

Had he gotten me shoes as well? Why hadn't I noticed them?

Walking back to the walk-in closet, I saw that he had indeed bought me shoes, and not just a few, but an entire wall of them. I really didn't like that. It felt like he was paying me for being his submissive–it made me feel cheap. Still, I grabbed a pair of sneakers because I really didn't want to walk in heels.

"Just remember to take it easy today," Callan instructed as he drove me home.

"I will," I promised. It wouldn't be hard to keep, either. I was too tired to do anything but lay in bed and watch series or something like that. I hoped I wouldn't be feeling like this every morning after I've been with them–even my clit was tender. The material of the panties pressed against it was uncomfortable.

Eight times. I'd come fucking eight times yesterday. I hadn't thought I would have that in me. It had been so hot. The feeling of eyes on me as two men pleasured me while one watched...I never thought I would ever experience something like that, but I was glad I did. I would remember this when I was old and grey; I would remember the time I spent being wild and free.

Callan dropped me off, but I didn't make a move to open the door, and neither did he.

"There is something I've meant to ask, but I had other more pressing things on my mind yesterday." The list...submitting...being dominated...sex, although I couldn't always get what I wanted.

"What is it?" Callan asked. When he looked at me, it felt like he was truly seeing me. Not just now, but from the first time I met him when I served him a drink at Euphoria. It was as if he could read my wants and desires from just looking into my eyes. It was unnerving, a little scary, but also freeing–like I didn't have to pretend with him because he already saw me for who I was.

"The door to my building, do you know who fixed the lock? It can't be a coincidence that Mateo asked about the broken lock, and the next day it was fixed."

"That's because it's not a coincidence. Mateo got in touch with your landlord and talked him into fixing it." The way Callan mentioned "talked" made me think something more happened.

"What really happened? Did Mateo threaten him?"

"Yeah, something like that. Anyway, I just wanted to say you were perfect yesterday. Did you enjoy it?"

Something like that...I knew he was trying to change the subject– still, it worked. I preened at the compliment given. "Yes, I did. It was intense, but the good kind, you know?"

He nodded. "I do know, and I'm glad. Yesterday, you got pleasure with a little bit of pain. Another time, it might just be pain. Will you be okay with that?"

What I already knew about BDSM was that many submissives and dominants didn't do sex at all. They usually focused on other parts of the kink, like bondage, submitting, and pain.

"I am," I answered, and I was. I've read what the pain could do to a submissive, and I couldn't wait to experience it for myself.

"Good." He got out of the car and opened my door like he always did.

Callan unlocked the building's door for us. Once again, I found myself being walked to my apartment with a man, which had been a rare occurrence before all this.

"Here's your set of keys for the door downstairs." Callan held it out for me, and I accepted it.

"Have a great day, sweetheart. I'll see you on Thursday." He leaned in and kissed my forehead, and I almost swooned. I didn't know when he'd started calling me sweetheart, but I liked it– just as much as being called Bella.

"See you," I smiled, still feeling his lips against my skin even as he turned around and walked downstairs.

A burst of energy hit me as soon as I got into my apartment and locked the door. I squealed in the privacy of my own home, thinking back to what had happened yesterday and this morning after our discussion. I felt so excited, alive, and...happy.

But then, the energy turned into something more, something that made my skin buzzing with awareness. I'd seen Callan naked, and fuck if I didn't like what I'd seen. He was a mix between lean and bulky, and that piercing of his made me think naughty thoughts–sexy thoughts. How would something like that feel against my tongue as he fucked my throat? And how would it feel in my pussy? His girth was impressive enough, but with the added steel in addition? Whew, I grew wet, just imagining it.

I'd never slept with a guy who had had a pierced dick before, and the possibility of doing so...fuck me, that was hot.