“Too bad I don’t have a master anymore, then. But you’ll like me if you get to know me. I’m a very nice dominatrix.”

“You’re not a dominatrix. You’re a dumb little slut playing dress-up. Nobody here is afraid of you. Nobody here is impressed by you. And nobody here wants you.”

“That hurts. It really does. I could have sworn somebody here wanted me. Did anybody here want me?” she shouted to the crowd.

“Up here,” Griffin called from the balcony. “I want you, Mistress Nora.”

“Thank you, Master Griffin,” Nora called back. “You want to tag team someone later?”

“Sure. Girl or guy?”

“Griffin’s choice.”

“Both then. Hurry up. I have a boner, and I want to use it before I lose it.”

“On my way,” Nora called back and gave Griffin a salute. She saw uncertainty on the faces around her. Kingsley saw her as a dominatrix. Mistress Irina did. And now Master Griffin, too? But Trent remained unmoved and unimpressed. “Could you excuse us? We need to get to the elevator now so Griffin and I can fuck some people up.”

“Say please,” Trent said, glaring down at her.

“Well, I suppose I could fuck some people up down here. But Griffin’s up there. So you should move. Right now. If you don’t move, I’ll break your face, smash your balls and make you cry in front of this entire assembly of perverts.”

She stood up straight and tall—as tall as a woman who was five foot three and wearing four-inch heels could stand—and put her hands behind her back. From under the waistband of her tight skirt she pulled out a cold piece of metal and slipped it over her hand.

“You talk a very good game, little girl,” Trent said. “I wish I believed you. Might be nice to find a woman around here with real balls.”

“Are you giving me permission, then, to break your face and crush your balls? Kingsley says I can’t hit anyone without their permission. I mean, unless it’s self-defense. That’s okay, right?” She looked at Kingsley.

“Bien sûr,” he said. “If he tries anything with you, you can kill him for all I care.”

“Oh, goodie. Would you please try something with me, Trent?” Nora asked.

“If you insist,” Trent said. He leaned his head back and spit at her.

Nora ducked the spit and used Trent’s moment of distraction to bring her fist around, knuckles first like Kingsley had taught her. He’d told her to aim for the cheekbone but she slightly miscalculated and instead struck Trent in the nose. She felt it go soft under her hand, like a cracker turning to crumbs. She heard a scream and saw a spurt of blood like Mount Vesuvius erupting and Trent was Pompeii. Party over. Her boots were steel-tipped and as Trent raised his hands to cup his bloody nose, Nora kicked him in the testicles. In an instant he was on his side on the floor in the fetal position. The crowd gasped and moved away. Kingsley stood watching as she put her foot on Trent’s neck and started to stand on it with her full weight.

“Mommy,” he said. Except he didn’t say it, he screamed it.

“Well, poo,” Nora said, dramatically lifting her foot off his neck. “That didn’t take long. And I was just getting warmed up.”

“You broke my fucking nose, you bitch.” He wailed the words.

“That’s ‘You broke my fucking nose, Mistress Bitch,’ to you.”

Trent tried to get up on his hands and knees. He reached for Kingsley’s foot.

“Don’t scuff my leather,” Kingsley said, kicking Trent’s hand away.

“King, she broke my nose.”

“She told you she was going to, silly boy,” Kingsley said. “Did you think she was joking?”

“I think he thought I was joking,” Nora said. She did a little turn and looked around, the assembly watching in stony silence. “Do you all think I’m joking?”

No one dared speak.

Nora continued. “Does that look like I’m joking?” She pointed down at Trent, who was still cradling his bloody nose on the floor.

Still...no one spoke.

“Look,” Nora said, smiling at the crowd. “I know. I know. You’re all saying, ‘That’s Eleanor, Søren’s submissive.’ I know a lot of you respect him and fear him. I know a lot of you know what sort of sadist he is. No one knows that better than I do. I respect him, too, of course. I learned a lot from him. And the most important thing I learned was this—if someone fucks with you, you show them the wrath of God. This is what the wrath of God looks like.” Nora pointed to Trent in the fetal position at her feet. Unbreakable was thoroughly broken. “Does anyone else want to piss me off tonight? Anyone?”

No answer at all. No volunteers.

“I’m asking very little of you all,” Nora said. “I’m not asking for your respect or your loyalty or your understanding. If I deserve that, then I’ll earn it in time. I don’t want much. All I want is to walk from here to that elevator without touching the ground. Is that too much to ask? I’d say about twenty male bodies flat on their stomachs should do it. Leave about a foot between each.”

Everyone stared in silence, wide-eyed and uncertain.

“Am I speaking Greek?” Nora asked. “Human red carpet. On the floor. Right now or Kingsley and I will start choosing people at random to ban from the club for a solid year. Everyone obeys or everyone is punished. You all decide.” She snapped her fingers and pointed. A young man stepped forward and lay on the ground halfway between Trent and the elevator. Another man, quite a bit older but still handsome, took his shirt off and lay down a foot away from the younger man. One by one by one, a bridge of sorts built itself between her and the elevator.

Nora stepped on Trent, who grunted under her weight on his back. From Trent she stepped onto the young man’s back, careful not to hurt him. Not too much anyway. Kingsley followed behind her and so did Mistress Irina. They, too, used the human bridge Nora had built. The eleventh step on the bridge wasn’t lying on his stomach but on his back. Nora recognized him as the very first person who had jumped to follow her order.

“You were very quick to obey,” Nora said, looking down at the man. He had a black handkerchief tied over his hair like a pirate and he wore a black mask over his eyes and a black pirate’s shirt. He lifted the shirt to his chest to offer her his stomach to stand on. “This pleases me.”

“Don’t forget,” he said, grinning up at her. “Money up front.”

Nora rolled her eyes before playfully kicking Thorny’s side.

“On your stomach, whore. That’s an order.”

He flipped over onto his stomach as ordered, wiggling his ass for her as he moved. She would deal with Thorny later—probably by fucking his brains out. But now she had to get to the elevator without anyone else stopping her. As she strolled along her human promenade, she heard grunts and gasps from beneath and behind her. Kingsley and Irina were using her walkway, as well. A much-needed reminder to the denizens of The 8th Circle where everyone stood. Kingsley, Nora and Irina stood on the denizens of The 8th Circle when they felt like it. That’s where everyone stood.

They made it to the elevator and Kingsley and Irina stepped inside. But Nora stopped.

“Maîtresse?” Kingsley asked.

“One second. I forgot something.”

Nora turned on her heel and walked back on her human body sidewalk to where Trent still lay on the floor.

“Let me see your face,” Nora said. Groaning, Trent came up on his knees. She knew masochists like him, dangerous as wild horses until you broke them. But once broken, they were meek as lambs. Blood dripped from his nose. He wouldn’t bleed to death. Probably.

She put her hand under his chin and smiled at him.

“Call me if you want to play again,” she said. “I cost a thousand an hour.”

Then, using the back of her hand, she wiped the blood off his face. She turned and saw Milady standing far off to the side, almost as if she were trying to hide.

Nora walked toward Milady and the crowd parted for her.