In the light of the early morning, hazel eyes examined Samuel's bedroom walls, bright white with dark wood floors and accents on the beams and doors. The carpets placed around the room were some of the most beautifully weaved pieces she had ever seen.

She was still next to her new Master, his hand moving gently over her side and encouraging soft purrs from her throat. He kept a few inches between them though Quinn was unsure why.

All the stories she had heard of claiming in wealthy families were usually violent and abusive. Yet here she lay next to a Master who didn't seem to want her like that.

…Maybe he's gay?

Whatever the cause for his actions, Quinn was NOT complaining, he didn't touch her and that was just fine with her.

She turned over and started crawling out of the huge bed, over the brown and gold and blue comforter and slipping through the gold sheets. Yeah, maybe he's gay.

"I'm hungry." She played with the hem of the large white shirt, its length well around her mid thigh. "Can we go get something to eat?" He rubbed his face, rising to his full height and stretching, giving his hybrid a view of his powerful torso. Walking towards the door he waved at her to follow.

"Get dressed first," The door was pushed open for her. "I requested clothes for you yesterday," There were boxes on the table in the sitting room. Quinn realized that the large spacious rooms that belonged to Samuel were more like an expensive apartment, even the stain glass windows around were far too royal for normal wealth.

These people were the high powered porters, the type that could kill someone in the middle of a crowd and get away with it. A shiver ran down Quinn's spine. If she made a misstep she could be executed on the spot.

He left her to the boxes and it didn't take long for her to pull out a pretty yellow sundress and white cardigan. It screamed innocence and harmlessness, both of which she was not.

Quinn looked in the mirror near the door leading to the hallway, smoothing her hair before moving her eyes to her collar. It looked out of place on her. Wings? Why wings?

Maybe that was why he didn't touch her. Maybe he wanted a bird hybrid.

From each bracelet and anklet was a dangling feather, four feathers and a pair of wings on her. Between the silver wings of the collar was a ring, where a leash would be attached.

"Quinn," Samuel walked out of the bedroom, dressed in slacks and a dress shirt, tie over his shoulders. He didn't even look at her, but she followed, tail swaying behind her. Unlike Santana's ebony tail that had a slight curved shape to keep off the floor, Quinn held hers in a 'U' shape, the black tipped end bobbing with her graceful steps.

At the end of the hall, Samuel offered her his arm, but she walked right past him, pretending to look around but meeting his eyes in defiance as well. "Don't be like that." He sighed, but she smirked at him, rosy lips revealing white teeth and sharp canines.

"Like what? I seem to have missed your meaning." Quinn knew she shouldn't push him, but there was this thing in her chest that encouraged her to do so. He glared at her, blue eyes alight with fire and Quinn was sure that he would have hit her if she wasn't at the bottom of the stair case.

There she waited, and this time when he offered his arm she took it. "Be good, or I will discipline you." He hissed into her ear, forcing them to go flat against her head. The kitchen was mostly empty, though voices could be heard in another room. Quinn watched Samuel fix plates for them both and pulled out her chair at the small table placing food before her.

Though Sylvester had taught her manners and how to act like a lady, Quinn hesitated to sit down across from him. "I can pull out my chair myself; I'm not helpless." She glared at him.

He glared right back.

"I didn't do that because I am a man and you a woman, nor because I am your master and you my hybrid submissive. I pulled out your chair because it is the polite thing to do and my mother raised me to respect others." He leaned forward, her not backing away. "You're pretty when you're angry, Lucy."

What the fuck?

Quinn didn't expect this, she expected him to slap her or yell at her or shame her, not compliment her. Her face burned and felt her lips tug down in thought instead of displeasure. He was unpredictable. Anyone Quinn had ever met; at the hybrid competition shows, photographers, other hybrids, they all had a wiring she could figure out. Quinn knew which buttons to press and how far to go, but not with Samuel.

He was unpredictable and that makes him dangerous, because she didn't know how far she could push and he seemed to enjoy catching her off guard.

His chilly eyes dropped, looking over her. "And you're beautiful when you blush. I like when you smile though."

"When have you seen me smile?" She arched a brow, but kept her dangerous gaze on him.

"When I rubbed your back this morning, you had this little smile then you woke up." He took a few bites of food after leaning back. Quinn turned her attention to her own plate and ate, silently mulling over this new development. Samuel is….disconcerting to her, but she wanted to know more about him.

For the Gods above, she was going to be murdered.

Her deep thoughts were interrupted when Samuel took her empty plate and put both of theirs in the sinks. He made the come hither motion as he walked out of the room and she followed to see a sitting room where many people and their hybrids were, even Santana, Mike, and Noah.

Mike jumped up and scowled at Samuel, almost like he was going to attack him. Samuel glared at him and sat down at a large sitting chair by the fire place next to where Mr. Shuester sat.

Quinn thought the room was beautiful, a lovely place for conversing. "Quinn." Samuel called, patting his knee. When she looked around she noted that all the hybrids were sitting on the floor at their Master's or Mistress's feet, heads on their knees. Of course Quinn refused to do this.

With extreme grace even for her breed, she leapt to the back of the chair, settling herself behind his golden haired head and wrapping her long tail around his chest. She was curled around him, almost a submissive move, but more a dominant one. She put herself higher than her master and expected to be hit this time.

He wrapped a big hand around the end of her tail, over the black tip…and moved his thumb to rub it. He played with her tail with his fingers of one hand while the other reached for a news paper, ignorant to his families shocked awe. Quinn even more so, found herself blushing and purring at the soothing actions of his hands on her tail.

"Um," Marley broke the silence, "Good morning." Her hybrid was outright gawking at them, wings slack like there was no need to have been tense. Mike slowly sat down again, eyes flicking up to Quinn in question.

Noah wasn't the best bro to talk to in training, and Mike often found himself sitting with Quinn and Santana, already having expressed how they were the closest to family he had.

He just wanted to know that she was alright and Quinn wandered how many in the house hold had heard her pleas the day before. Her eyes settled on the dominant Mike sat before; a small Asian woman, she was pretty with blue streaks through her hair and in gothic style dress.

"I'm going to the office later today," Samuel started, eyes not leaving the paper, even as he paused his ministrations on his hybrid's tail to unfold it, "if you don't mind me taking the driver."

"And your hybrid?," Will asked, eyeing the girl above his nephew's shoulders. His own red haired bird hybrid sat at his feet, playing with a bow around her neck that laid just over a gold collar. "You should take her with you."

"Absolutely not." He didn't hiss this, but Quinn whole heartedly agreed, she needed time to take in his behavior this morning and think up a plan to work around him. "She should stay here and…acclimate to the house." He stood up and tugged on her tail. "I need to go get ready." It was code for 'come with me.'

She didn't hesitate nor push him, but took his offered arm and returned to their rooms where he left her in the sitting room.

While he was gone, she pulled off the clothes and laid them over a chair. They were getting itchy and hot, and honestly, she felt like he was exercising his right over her.

"What the hell are you doing? Put those back on." Samuel growled when he walked back from the bedroom, dropped the briefcase from his hand and grabbed her clothes from the chair. He reached for her, she stepped away from him, hissing with hackles raised.

"No."

"I own you, you're mine now." He said lowly, a warning not to be trifled with.

"All you did was put a collar and cuffs on me. That is hardly staking a claim." She crossed her arms over her chest, a smirk at her lips. Oh yeah, she won this one…so she thought.

He froze for a moment before striking, she was in his hands and lifted off her feet. He carried her to the bedroom, as she wiggled and growled, letting out the little roars her bread were known for.

He sat at a small couch that faced the regal bed, placing her in his lap, back to his chest. "Is this what you want me to do, get angry? Do you want to be hit? I can beat you to an inch of your life, or take you, fuck you until you can't walk." At Samuel's words two things happened; a chilling fear ran down her spine and mingled with a hot flash emanating from her core, meshing together into anxiety and confusing her. His grip was tight but not bruising, though he did shake her a few times. "What do you want?" She didn't know, she didn't know what she wanted, because she didn't understand how or why her body was reacting to him and his actions.

It didn't help that he held her by having their arms criss-crossed together over her chest and his knuckles brushing her bare nipples with each heaving breath. He transferred the control of both her arms over to one hand while the other dipped down her stomach and between her thighs.

"You want me to make you mine in every way, don't you?" His fingers slid into the soft hair over her core and she let out a choked gasp. "You want me to cuff you to the bed and have my perverted way with you, Huh?"

"I-I, don't-" She couldn't breathe as his fingers met her delicate core, it was then that she learned how much she wanted him to touch her.

"You're wet with the thoughts of me taking you." He stated, fingers moving roughly, but slowly over her, finding a pearl of nerves and pressed on it. She arched her back and cried out to anyone that would hear. "I can stop?"

"Don't." She mumbled, eyes falling shut and tail wrapping around his forearm, trying to keep him there. His fingers moved lower and she focused all her attention on them, especially when the tip of one of them slipped into her hot core. "I-I. Please." She begged, grinding into him. "Please. Don't….Stop." She was breathless as he slipped the finger a little further into her, setting her body on fire and breaking her. She could feel his arousal under her bottom, the bulge firming and sending another spike of pleasure up through her, stopping at her stressed heart.

"D-don't…don't," She gasps again, rocking forward to him, cheeks hot, sweat broken over her skin, stomach tight and mind in a daze. Whatever he was doing to her was wonderful and frightening. Quinn had never felt so helpless before and that would take some getting used to, if she could ever get used to someone taking control of her body like he is at the moment. "Stop."

He growled in her ear and ripped his fingers from her, pushing her to the side and settling her on the seat next to him. Standing, Samuel didn't look at her, grabbed his suit jacket and walked out of the rooms. Quinn stayed where she was on the couch, shaking and heaving in lung fulls of air, listening to the door to the hall swing open and then slam shut.

On shaky legs Quinn crawled under the covers of the bed and let a hand slide down to her core as the other caressed her breast. She was still warm and soaking even after her Master's sudden retreat. Slowly, almost reverent and reminiscing of his touch, she stroked herself. Finding her bundle of nerves and encircling it, her other hand left her breast and dipped between her legs, one finger intruding into her much like his had.

Sighing and throwing her head back into the pillows, her foggy mind bounced between fright of his power over her and possible future, and want of him to use this power over her, to pleasure her the way he was taking her earlier. And she wondered what sex would be like if she were a completely willing, sure that she wanted him and even caressing him when he took her. She wondered what making love with him would be like. Her ears lay flat in fear and confusion and need.

But Quinn easily forgot these things in favor of bringing herself to a gentle climax, his name on her lips and image in her mind.

Immediately after, Lucy Quinn Fabray rolled over, buried her face in the plush pillows and cried in shame. What is wrong with her?

What do you think? Please, please review. I changed this to an in-progress story, just so y'all know.