“This is about whether you can listen.”
The truth settled deep.
“I can,” I said
He studied me for a long time.
“Words don’t prove that.”
“I know.”
He stood, circling me once, slow, unhurried.I stayed exactly where I was.Didn’t track him with my eyes.Didn’t anticipate.
I waited.
“Are you ready to follow instructions?”he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“What does that mean?”
“That I don’t rush,” I said.“I don’t offer.I don’t guess.”
His steps stopped behind me.
“And?”
“And I stay present.”
Silence.
Then his fingers brushed my shoulder, light, testing, before sliding away.
“Good,” he said again.
I felt the shift then, not punishment.Intent.
He moved to the dresser and opened a drawer.When he turned back, he held something I hadn’t expected.
A collar.
Simple.Elegant.Gold hardware catching the light.
My breath stilled.
He didn’t move toward me yet.
“This isn’t about ownership,” he said calmly.“And it isn’t about control.”
He stepped closer, stopping just within my space.
“It’s about agreement.”
My pulse thudded low and heavy.
“If I place this on you,” he continued, “it means you’re choosing to follow my lead tonight.Not because you owe me.”
A pause.
