I nodded slowly.
“That’s yellow, then,” I said. “Not green. Not until you’re sure.” For me, that’d be red. I couldn’t willingly harm this Omega. I highly doubted he got off on pain.
His eyes flicked up, surprised. And I saw it—that flicker of relief. Because for once, he didn’t have to perform. He just had to be honest. And I’d meet him there.
I watched the way Charlie’s shoulders tightened after answering. Not from defiance.
He was trying to be honest. But honesty, for someone like him, wasn’t instinct. It was an effort.
I reached for the papers, then paused. “Would it help,” I asked gently, “if we went through this together?”
His eyes flicked up, cautious.
“I won’t rush you,” I continued. “We’ll take it slow. One item at a time. You can ask questions, change your mind, mark something yellow even if you thought it was green.”
He didn’t speak, but I saw the shift. A breath held less tightly.
“I want to understand you. Not just what you’ve been taught to endure—but what you actually feel. What you want. What you don’t.”
Still no words. But he nodded. And that was enough. Because this wasn’t about control. It was about building something that could hold both of us.
Safely.
Together.
“Go get a chair from the kitchen, then we’ll start over. As equals.”
Charlie did just that. He took our dishes from the snack with him, returning with new bottles and a chair. He placed it inches from me, then took a seat. Thankfully, his body wasn’t as stiff as I expected.
“I am proud of you, sweetheart. You tried, gave answers without me needing to interfere. A week ago, you would have marked everything green, no thought in doing so.”
“I can handle what I marked, Sir.”
I glanced down at the page, then back at Charlie. He was seated next to me, posture straight but not tense. His answer was exactly what I expected. Just because he could handle something didn’t mean he enjoyed it.
I cleared my throat gently, keeping my tone even. “All right,” I said. “First item.” I let my eyes settle on the words. “Kneeling.”
Charlie didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away.
“You marked it green.”
He nodded once, slowly.
“I want to hear it in your words,” I said. “Not just the color. What does kneeling mean to you?”
He hesitated. Then spoke. And I listened. Because this wasn’t about the checklist. It was about building something real, one answer at a time.
Chapter 31
Charlie
“Kneeling…” I paused, unsure how to say it without sounding wrong. “It’s not just posture. It’s quiet.” I glanced at Vincent, then back down. “It’s the only time my head stops spinning. I don’t have to think about where to stand, what to say, or how to breathe. I just… kneel.” I swallowed hard. “It was expected at Lockswell. Required. But here, it feels different. You don’t demand it. You allow it.”
I shifted slightly, grounding myself.
“When I kneel for you, it’s not fear. It's a choice. And that’s why it feels safe.” I looked up, just for a second. “I marked it green because it’s the only thing that’s ever felt like mine.”
“Second item. Spanking,” he said.
