Amy stood in the lobby of Mark’s building, trying to work up the nerve to hit the elevator button.  She’d been to Mark’s apartment plenty of times, but this time it would be different.  This time she’d be at his apartment and fucking him.

Will you be, though?  You still haven’t signed the agreement and after the research you did last night, you’re not going to.  You think Mark will keep fucking you if you don’t sign the agreement?

Probably not.  But after the things she’d read – the things she’d seen – on the internet last night, she was one hundred percent positive that a slave/master relationship wasn’t for her.

Mark hasn’t made you do any of those awful things.

Not yet he hadn’t, but she was a newbie.  What if that’s what he was training her to do, training her to become?

She shuddered all over and Paul stood up from behind the security desk.  “Ms. Dawson, you okay?”

“Fine, thanks, Paul.”  Her voice was so high-pitched she was surprised dogs didn’t start howling.  She pushed the elevator button.  When the doors opened, she stepped into the elevator with dread in her belly.

Less than two minutes later, she was knocking on Mark’s door.  He opened it almost immediately.  “Hi, Ames.”

He was wearing jeans, a faded blue t-shirt that hugged his lean abdomen and he was barefoot.  Lust mixed with the dread.  “Hey.”

“Come in.”

He took her coat and hung it in the closet.  She took off her boots and lined them up next to Mark’s.  She had come straight from work, debating only a few minutes about going home to change her clothes before deciding not to.  If she did, she might be tempted to pack an overnight bag and a few toiletries.  Stupid idea.  She couldn’t stay the night after they had sex. 

If you even have sex. 

“Come in to the kitchen.”

She followed him toward the kitchen.  Mark didn’t have the penthouse, but his apartment was high enough to give stunning views of the city.  His apartment was a one-bedroom loft.  It had an open floor plan with soaring ceilings, exposed pipes overhead, brick on the walls and floor-to-ceiling windows.

They passed by his bedroom and another trickle of lust seeped into her belly.  The bedroom was walled off, although the walls didn’t go to the ceiling, and there was a sliding door for privacy.  The door was closed, and she trailed her fingers along the smooth wood as they passed it.  Before she stopped being alone with him, she’d come to his place plenty of times, but she’d never been in the bedroom. 

“The kitchen looks good,” she said.

“Thanks.  I guess you haven’t seen it since I redid it,” Mark replied.

She sat gingerly on the stool that was tucked under the granite covered island.  Her ass had bruises on it from the paddle.  It was less sore today than it was even yesterday, but it still stung if she sat down too hard.  “No.  You redid it last year and I haven’t been here for - ”

“Two years, one month and three days.”  Mark took a sip from the bottle of beer that was sitting on the counter. 

She cleared her throat.  “Yeah, well, the kitchen looks good.”

He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of her favourite wine.  Before he could open it, she said, “I’d better not.  I haven’t eaten dinner yet and if I drink wine on an empty stomach, I’ll be drunk in no time.”

She tapped her fingers against the island.  Driving over, her plan had seemed simple enough.  She would tell Mark she was no longer interested in a master/slave relationship, but she still wanted to explore impact play.  If he was fine with it, great, they’d have sex and she’d go home.  If he wasn’t, well… she’d go home.

But now, being in his apartment, being close enough to him to smell his aftershave, her resolve was wavering.  Maybe they could have sex first and then she’d tell him she wasn’t interested in a master/slave thing.  After all, what were the odds of him using her as a damn footstool tonight? 

Slim to none, she decided.  She would have sex with Mark and then talk to him.  She’d give him a really good blowjob.  Maybe he’d be distracted enough that he would agree to just impact play.

Smart.  Way to think outside the box, Ames.

“So, uh, could we get started with tonight’s lesson?”  She said.

“Dinner first.”  Mark was reaching for the handle on the oven door.

“Oh, no, I don’t need food.  I didn’t say that because I wanted you to feed me.  I’ll eat later.”

“We both need to eat,” Mark said.  He opened the oven door and her stomach growled when the scent of the food drifted to her.

He pulled out two large brown bags and set them on the counter.  “I picked up Thai on the way home.”

“That’s my favourite,” she said stupidly.

“I know.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” he said.  “We have to eat, right?  Can you grab the plates and silverware?”

“Sure.”

She set the island for two as Mark poured her a glass of wine before setting the food on the island.  They sat down across from each other and he smiled at her.  “Dig in.”

“Thanks.”  She scooped out some Pad Thai and some Pad Pak before adding a scoop of the chicken and rice to her plate.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Mark set his fork down and said, “I swear there isn’t anything going on with Chloe and me.”

“I know,” she said.  “Didn’t you get my text yesterday?”

“I did.  I’m glad that Chloe told you how I know her, but you’re still upset.  I can tell.  Chloe was just being a friend when she hugged me.”

“I know,” she repeated.  “I’m not upset about it and I really should apologize to you for my reaction.  It isn’t any of my business if you’re dating someone.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”  His scowl was as deep as the Grand Canyon.

“We’re not actually dating.  So, I wouldn’t expect exclusivity.”

“Well, I do.”  He dropped his fork onto his plate.  “I don’t want you fucking someone else while you belong to me, little slave.”

Shit.  He had referred to her as slave outside of the bedroom.  He was planning on using her as a footstool.

“The slave thing is only in the bedroom.”  Her voice was sharper than she intended but she kept seeing the images from her computer last night.  The woman on all fours on the floor while the man –

“I’m sorry,” Mark said.  “I didn’t mean to say that.  It’s just – I don’t want you sleeping with other men while you’re, uh…

“In training?”

He winced, and she pushed her plate of half-eaten food away before reaching for her wine.  “Mark, I can’t sign the agreement.”

“Why?”

“I – I just can’t.  I know that means this is over but - ”

“It doesn’t mean it’s over.  But tell me why you can’t sign it,” Mark said.

“I can’t do the master/slave thing anymore.  I want to – to explore impact play but I don’t want to be a slave.”

“You seemed to enjoy it before.  What changed your mind?”

“I just don’t think it’s for me, okay?”  She took a sip of wine.

“Why not?”

“It just isn’t.”

“Why?”  Mark’s voice was calm.

Unnerved by how calm he was being, she blurted, “Because I don’t want to be a footstool!”

Mark stared at her in stunned silence.  She slid off the stool.  “I should go.”

She hadn’t taken two steps before his voice stopped her in her tracks.  “Wait.”

She both hated and loved how he could control her.

His arm snaked around her waist and he pressed her spine against his chest.  He kissed the side of her neck.  “Explain, please.”

She stared at their reflection in the windows that lined the living room.  “I – I did some research last night after pottery class.  I looked at the sites you sent me, and I looked at some other ones.  There were these pictures and these rules for master/slave relationships.  The master made his slave learn all these different rules and positions and – and it’s like she’s his pet dog, Mark.  He makes her heel and park and walk two feet behind him at all times.  He taught her a damn fetch command.  She has to let him inspect her daily and he allows other dominants to look at her when she’s naked.”

Her hands clenched into fists.  “He makes her be a footstool for him.  A goddamn footstool! There were pictures of her on her hands and knees and he’s got his feet propped up on her while he watches fucking TV like he’s some - ”

“Baby, stop.”  Mark’s arm squeezed her tight.

She had run out of breath anyway.

“I’m not going to ask you to do any of those things.”

She sucked in some oxygen.  “You aren’t?”

“No.  Do you really think I would make you walk behind me or let another man look at you naked?  I always play with my slaves at the club.  Do you know why we’re not there now?”

She shook her head and he kissed her neck again.  “Because the club has cameras in every room.  I don’t want anyone seeing you naked but me.”

He slipped his hand under her shirt and rubbed her belly with his warm hand.  “I swear I only want you to be my slave in the bedroom, Ames.  I’m not going to make you learn a bunch of different positions other than the one I’ve already taught you.  Think of what we’re doing as more of a,” he paused, “PG13 version of a master/slave relationship.  Does that make sense?”

He turned her to face him, his hand sliding around to rub at her lower back.  She searched his face.  “So, no footstool?”

“No footstool.”

He bent his head and rested his forehead against hers.  She sighed.  “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not,” he said.  “There are all different types of master/slave relationships and I should have warned you about that before you did your research.”

“Do you - I mean have you ever had a more R rated, master/slave relationship?  Like, one where you made them do all those things?”

“Once,” he said.  “Because she wanted it.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“No, I didn’t.  Which is why after a few weeks, I found her a more suitable Dom to play with at the club.  I couldn’t give her what she needed.”

She stared at his chest.  “I like when you take control in the bedroom.  I like when you make me call you Master but I’m also embarrassed that I like it.  Does that make sense?”

“Yes.”  He pressed a kiss against her forehead.  “It’s a normal reaction.”

“If someone found out that I – I liked being put over your knee and spanked, that I liked being your slave and wearing a collar, I’d be humiliated.  But I still want it.  Crave it.  It’s a,” she huffed out a small laugh, “weird feeling.”

“I know.  But you’re new to all of this and I promise it gets less weird.  What you want is maybe not normal by most people’s standards, but it doesn’t make it wrong or bad.  You think I didn’t struggle with being a Dom?  Hell, I did therapy over it.”

“Really?”

“Yes.  You think you feel weird for enjoying being spanked?  Consider how it would be if you liked spanking someone, liked causing someone pain, liked calling them your little slave.”

“Good point.  Especially since you’re the complete opposite outside of the bedroom.”

“So are you,” he pointed out.

“I’m not.”

He laughed and kissed her forehead again.  “So, if Luke and I tried to tell you what to design or told you that you had to come to every business meeting, you’d…”

“Tell you to stuff it where the sun doesn’t shine.”

He laughed again, the sound vibrating against her chest and belly.  “Like I said, complete opposite.  C’mon, let’s finish dinner.”

She dug in her heels when he tried to tug her back to the island.  “I’m full.”

“You hardly ate anything.”

She just shrugged.  Now that she knew Mark didn’t intend to make her act like a goddamn footstool, her horniness far outweighed her hunger.

She could see that Mark was going to argue and she pressed a kiss against his mouth, licking his lips but pulling back when he opened his mouth.  “I want you, Master.  Don’t make me wait.”

His nostrils flared and just like that, she could feel his erection against her belly.  It sent ripples of need through her entire body.  She loved how quickly she could make him hard.  She reached down and rubbed his dick through his jeans.  “You want me too.  Take me to your bedroom, please?”

He took her hand and led her to the bedroom.  He pulled back the sliding door and she peered curiously inside.  Like the rest of his place, the bedroom had a minimalistic design to it.  There was just a king-sized bed, two nightstands and a small armchair in the corner next to a reading lamp.  She stared at the photography on the walls before glancing at Mark.

“Aren’t you worried that someone will see these?”

“Like who?”

“I don’t know - Luke or my parents.”

Mark laughed.  “Neither your parents nor your brother are ever invited into my bedroom.”

She blushed before moving closer to study the photographs.  On the wall closest to them there was a black and white picture of a man sitting in a chair.  Only his lap and his legs were visible in the picture.  A naked woman knelt at his feet, her head resting on the man’s thigh, and a thick collar around her neck with a leather leash attached to it.  The end of the leash was clasped loosely in the man’s left hand.  His other hand rested on top of the woman’s head in a gentle caress.  The woman’s eyes were closed, and Amy envied the peace on her face.

The photo on the opposite wall was also in black and white.  It showed a man wearing a suit and relaxing in a chair again.  This time a naked woman sat cradled on his lap.  Her face was buried in his neck and her arms wrapped around his shoulders.  One of his hands cupped a smooth naked thigh, the other rested against her ass.  Despite the lack of colour, Amy could see the tell-tale marks of a spanking across the pale flesh of her ass and back of her thighs.

“What are those marks from?”  She asked.

“A strap,” Mark replied. 

“Oh.”  She turned her attention back to the other picture, staring fixedly at the leash.  She thought she would feel repulsion or anger.  Instead, staring at the way the leash was wrapped around the man’s hand made her feel a little hot and breathless. 

What would it be like to have a leash clipped to her collar?  To have Mark’s hand wrapped around it, pulling her closer, tugging her to her knees and using it to guide her mouth to his dick?

“Do you like this picture, little slave?”  Mark’s breath ruffled her hair.

“Yes.”

“What do you like about it?”

“I – I like how peaceful and happy she looks.  The way his hand rests on her head.”

“What else?”

“I like…”

Oh God, she couldn’t say it.  She had just lost her shit in the kitchen about being treated like a dog.

“Tell me.”

She couldn’t resist him, not when he spoke to her that way.

“I like the leash,” she whispered.

He brushed aside her hair and kissed her neck.  The shadow on his jaw prickled her skin and heightened her need.

“Your collar is on the bed.  Bring it to me.”

She walked unsteadily to the bed.  Her collar was lying on the bed but that was it.  No paddle, no crop or strap like she thought there might be.  No leash either.  She ignored her weird disappointment.  She picked up the collar and rubbed her thumb along the ‘MM’ stitched into it.

“The MM stands for Master Mark?”  She brought it back to him and held it out.

He nodded and unbuckled the collar.  She lifted her hair and he buckled the collar snug around her neck.  She had missed its weight. 

The tension around his eyes eased as he stared at the collar.  She touched his chest.  “You’d make me wear this all the time if you could.  Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”  His intensity made her a little uneasy. 

“Well,” she tried to joke, “the leather collar look doesn’t exactly go with my hippie wardrobe.”

He touched her shirt.  “Time to get you naked, little slave.”

He helped her undress, unbuttoning her shirt and unhooking her bra for her.  She shimmied out of her skirt, her tights, and her panties.  When she was naked, he pulled her into his embrace and kissed her.

His kisses drove any doubts and worries from her mind and she lost herself in his taste and his touch.  When he reached down and squeezed her ass, she tried not to wince and failed miserably.

He broke their kiss.  “Turn around.”

“It’s fine, Sir.  It’s just -”

He spanked the back of her thigh.  “Turn around.”

She turned, and he studied her ass before rubbing his hand across the light bruises. 

“It doesn’t hurt that much,” she said.  “It looks more painful than it is.”

“No spanking tonight, little slave.”

She scowled over her shoulder at him.  “I’m fine.  I don’t need to be babied or -”

He gave her right ass cheek a hard spank and she couldn’t stop her cry of pain.  Fuck it hurt more than she thought.

He turned her around and pulled her back into his embrace.  “No spanking tonight.  Arguing with your Master will result in punishment.”

She couldn’t resist sassing him.  “If I’m not being spanked, do I really need to worry about punishment?”

His hand was between her legs and cupping her pussy before she could react.  She gasped and then moaned when his thumb rubbed her clit.  He bent his head and bit her neck before sucking on her earlobe.  “You and I both know there are other ways to punish you, little slave.”

Already his rough touch on her clit was bringing her close.  She rubbed against his fingers as he kissed the spot below her ear.  “Do you want to come tonight?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Then behave yourself and do as I say.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He moved his hand and she whined her disappointment.  His hand tugged on her collar.  “On your knees.”

She dropped to her knees, thankful for the plush rug Mark had next to the bed.  She stared up at him.  He pulled off his t-shirt and stroked her hair back from her face.  “Suck your Master’s cock.”

“Yes, Master.”

She unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and yanked down the front of his briefs.  His cock popped out and she slid her mouth over the head of him and sucked hard.  His groan filled her with satisfaction and she traced her tongue around the ridge.  He groaned again, his hands sliding into her hair in a tight grip.

“More,” he rasped.  “Take more of my cock into your mouth.”

She took as much as she could, sucking hard as she bobbed her head back and forth.  The head of his cock bumped against the back of her throat.  She tried to pull back, but he kept her where she was.

She squeezed his hips and stared up at him before making a muffled sound of protest.

“No, relax your throat and breathe through your nose,” he said.

She tried to do what he said, struggling not to panic.  He pulled back and she gulped in air as he petted her hair.  “Try again, little slave.”

“Sir, I can’t breathe and I - ”

“Enough talking.”  He gave her hair a sharp tug.  “Your mouth belongs to me and I’m going to fuck it with my cock.  Open.”

His harsh command made her pussy gush wetness.  She opened her mouth wide and tried to relax as he fed her inch after inch of his thick cock.  Her lips stretched around his width and her eyes watered as he pushed further and harder.  He pulled back, allowed her to take a breath, and pushed in again.  He repeated the motion, his hand cupping the back of her head to hold her still.  When he increased the speed and the intensity, she tried to suck and lick his cock as best she could with every stroke.

“Fuck, that’s so good,” he panted.  “You’re such a good girl.  You suck my cock so well, good girl.”

An absurd amount of pride filled her chest.  Saliva ran down her chin, but she leaned into his thrusts, sucking eagerly as he continued to praise her.  He moaned and tightened his hand in her hair.

“I’m going to come in your mouth and you’re going to swallow all of it.  Do you understand?”

She nodded, unable to speak with his cock in her mouth.  He petted her hair.  “Good girl.”

He thrust again and again.  She swallowed eagerly when his body stiffened, and he shoved his cock deep into her mouth.  He tasted delicious to her and she licked her lips and then the head of his cock when he pulled out of her mouth.

He shuddered all over, breathing harshly and petting her hair almost compulsively before he helped her stand.  “Good girl.  Such a good girl.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He picked up his shirt and cleaned away the mixture of saliva and come that coated her lips.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“You’re welcome.”  He kissed her hard, pushing her lips apart with his tongue and tasting every part of her mouth.  “I love tasting myself in your mouth, slave.”

She clung to him as he cupped her breast and played with her nipple.

“Please, Sir,” she moaned.

“Lie on the middle of the bed.”

She did what he asked.  He undressed, and she admired his lean body as he sat on the bed beside her.  He reached under the mattress and she stared at the fabric cuff he produced.  It was connected to a thick strap and she didn’t resist when he took her arm and strapped the cuff around her wrist.

“It’s an under-the-bed restraint system,” he said as he secured the cuff.

“Well, isn’t that handy,” she said.

He laughed and leaned over to suck her nipple into a hard peak.  She arched her back and weaved the fingers of her free hand into his thick hair.

He pulled away and she pouted at him.  He just grinned before moving to the other side of the bed and pulling out the cuff from under the mattress.  When her wrist was secured, she tested her ability to get free.  She couldn’t.  Not without Mark.

More liquid dripped out of her pussy and she squirmed on the bed.  Mark leaned over her and sucked on her other nipple until it was as hard as the first one.  She moaned and twitched and arched her back, digging her toes into the mattress.

“Comfortable?”  He asked.

“Yes, Sir,” she replied.

“Good.”  He kissed between her breasts before kissing his way down her stomach.  He nibbled at her hips as she twisted and turned.  When his mouth hovered over her pussy, she made a pleading noise.  He kissed the soft curls.

“Not yet, little slave.”

“Please, Master.”

“Not yet.”

He kissed the top of her thigh before licking a path to her knee.  He circled it with his tongue and she yanked futilely at her bonds.  “Sir!  Please!”

He kissed her shin as he pulled her legs apart.  She didn’t even feel the cuff around her ankle until he pressed the Velcro down firmly.

She tugged at the restraint and frowned at him.  “Sir, I don’t want my legs restrained.”

He smiled at her and kissed her shin again.  “Your Master does.”

She licked her lips and tried to ignore the way her pussy throbbed as he moved to the other side of the bed.  She tried to pull her leg away, but he was too strong.  He spread her leg to the edge of the bed and quickly restrained it before stepping back to admire his work.

“Sir.”

“Shh, little slave.”  He stared at her body as she squirmed and wiggled.  Her legs were spread so wide she could feel the ache in her thighs and the cool air on her pussy.  She was on display for him and she felt vulnerable and exposed.

As he moved to the end of the bed and knelt between her thighs, she said, “Mark, I mean Sir, I don’t like this.  I’m not comfortable being completely restrained. I don’t – oh my God!”

Mark’s tongue slicked across her pussy lips and she jerked her hips against his mouth.  He licked her exposed clit and then stiffened his tongue and pushed it into her narrow entrance.

“Fuck!”

He licked and nibbled at her pussy, swiping his tongue across her clit every few seconds until she was begging and pleading shamelessly.

He lifted his head and smiled at her.  “Still want me to let you go, little slave?”

“No!  Pease make me come, Master.”

“Not yet.”

She moaned again as he sucked and licked at her clit.  He pushed two thick fingers inside of her and stroked her roughly as he sucked on her swollen clit.  He brought her to the brink repeatedly and then stopped as she begged him to let her come.

He sucked on her clit, while he curled his fingers and rubbed them against the front wall of her pussy.  She screamed as pleasure so intense, it made light burst behind her screwed-shut eyelids, exploded through her entire body.  She screamed again, her body shaking violently against her restraints before she collapsed.

Her chest heaving, she stared in a daze at Mark as he slipped his fingers out of her pussy and sat up.  His lower jaw was covered in liquid and he wiped it on the sheet.  His cock was hard again, and he knelt between her thighs and guided his cock into her pussy.  She was so wet, he slid in easily despite his large size. 

Without speaking, he propped himself up on his hands and fucked her hard and rough.  He drove in and out of her body, staring at her tits as he moved faster.  Her pussy clenched rhythmically around him, and he groaned with every pump of his hips.  She couldn’t come this way, it was too rough and the angle wasn’t quite right, but she was happy about that.  Another orgasm like that last one and her head would explode. 

As it was, she was so weak from her climax she could only lie there as Mark used her for his own pleasure.  That thought – the idea that her body was meant for her Master’s gratification and nothing more – made her pussy tighten around him.  He shouted her name, his head falling back as he plunged deep and stayed there.  His body shook, and wetness flooded her already soaked pussy.  He thrust a few more times before collapsing against her body.

He was heavy, but she didn’t ask him to move as he shuddered repeatedly and kissed the damp skin of her neck.

“Fuck, Amy,” he muttered before finally rolling off of her.

He reached up and freed one hand before reaching across her and freeing the other.  She rubbed her wrists as he sat up and quickly released her ankles.  His body was shaking and when he tried to stand, he immediately fell back on his ass on the bed.

“Mark, lie down.”

“Aftercare,” he mumbled.  “You need water and - ”

“Lie down,” she repeated.

He collapsed on his back and she curled on her side, resting her head on his chest.  His heart was thudding heavily against her ear and she rubbed his warm skin.  “I think you’re the one who needs aftercare.”

“Did I hurt you?”  He asked.  “I was rough at the end and I - ”

“You didn’t hurt me.  It was the best orgasm of my life.”

“Good.”  He curved his arm around her and rubbed her back.  “For me too.”

He was quiet for a few minutes.  “Thank you, Amy.”

“For what?”

“That was one of my biggest fantasies about you.”

“Giving me a g-spot orgasm was your biggest fantasy?”

He laughed.  “Not exactly, although that was a happy bonus.”

She traced circles on his chest and he squeezed her hip.  “You wearing my collar and tied to my bed.  Helpless to stop me while I fucked you and used your body for my…”

He cleared his throat.  “Fuck, I sound like a total creeper.”

She rested her arm on his chest and propped her head up on her hand.  “You don’t.  I liked it too.  I wasn’t sure about it at first but then I…I was really turned on by it.  I’d want to do it again.”

“Give me like half an hour,” he said.

She poked him in the chest.  “Not tonight.  It’s getting late.”

“It isn’t,” he said.  “It’s not even seven thirty yet.”

She didn’t reply.  Instead she rested her head on his chest again and closed her eyes.  She needed to get dressed and leave.  Spending the night with Mark was a very bad idea but God, she was tired.  She hadn’t slept well last night and getting dressed and going out into the cold and the dark wasn’t exactly appealing.

Mark’s phone dinged, and she lifted her head again.  “Are you going to answer that?”

“It’s Luke’s ring.  I’ll text him back later.  Do you want to finish dinner?”

She shrugged.  What she wanted to do was snuggle with Mark all night and forget that he didn’t love her, that he would never agree to anything more than this.  His phone dinged again.

“He’s texting again,” she said.

Mark sighed and reached for his phone, studying the screen.  “I’m sure it isn’t – shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Your brother is on his way up -”

She sat up at the knock on the door, clutching the sheets to her chest and giving Mark a look of panic.  Mark slid out of the bed and yanked his jeans on before grabbing a clean t-shirt.  “Stay here, don’t make a sound.  I’ll get him to leave.”

She curled up on her side as Mark slipped out of the bedroom and shut the sliding door.  She heard him open the front door.

“Hey, Luke.  This isn’t a good time.  I -”

“We need to talk.” 

Her brother sounded both angry and panicked.  She put her hand over her mouth and froze like a mouse when she heard the heavy footsteps walk by the bedroom door. 

Shit.  Her brother was in the apartment.