“I’m listening now,” she said quietly.
I let out a slow breath through my nose, leaning back slightly, studying her.
“You think this is a game,” I said.
“No, Mr. S,” she replied.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, bringing myself closer to her level.
Her chin lifted just a little to meet me.
“This ain’t about you kneeling for five seconds and calling it submission,” I said. “This is about structure. Discipline. Consistency. You don’t pick and choose those when you feel like it.”
She didn’t interrupt.
Good.
“You don’t talk back,” I continued. “You don’t challenge every direction I give you just to see if I mean it. And you definitely don’t touch me when I tell you not to.”
She swallowed, but didn’t look away.
“I can do that,” she said.
“You sure?”
“Yes Mr. S.”
Hm.
Why was I even considering it? I didn’t know. Still. I’d be lying if I said my interest wasn’t piqued.
“Go get that leash.”
She got up without hesitation and walked over to collect the leash I placed on the couch after I walked the mutt earlier. Then she returned, placing it in my hand.
“Good. Now back on your knees.”
She did it, looking up at me for further instructions. Instead of talking, I took the leash and wrapped it around her neck once, clipping it onto itself.
“Too tight?”
“No Mr. S.”
I tugged it. “How ‘bout now?”
“No.”
Again. “Now?”
“No.”
I tugged and tugged ‘til the leather buried into her skin and her eyes water. Still, no complaints. I let it go though. I wasn’t a sadist.
She gasped as air returned to her lungs, clawing at her throat but not removing the leash.
“Maybe I could work with this,” I announced.
“Really?”
