He sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders squared, but I could see his hands fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt. That fine line between confidence and fear. I liked watching them cross it.

I stood in front of him, watching calmly. Not a single sudden movement, not a single word. My silence was stronger than any scream. It made him focus on my every gesture, every breath.

"Stand up," my voice was calm, but there was steel in it. He obeyed instantly, as if his body had responded on its own.

I moved closer, stopping so that he could feel my breath but could not touch it. His gaze darted between my eyes and the floor. He did not yet know where he was allowed to look.

"Take off your shirt," I said, and he froze for a moment before obeying. His every gesture was saturated with awkwardness, as if he had never exposed himself to someone else's eyes.

As the cloth fell to the floor, I ran my finger down his chest, slowly, almost lazily. His breathing grew louder, and I smiled at the corners of my lips. "You're tense. This is unnecessary energy. Here, you will be soft. Flexible. You will do only what I say."

My words settled in the air, like laws he was forced to accept. I saw him struggling with his inner protest, but he remained silent. The right choice.

I stepped back, leaving a little more space between us, but not allowing him to relax. "On your knees," I ordered, and he obeyed again, moving slowly, almost carefully.

When he was at my feet, I leaned down to look him straight in the eyes. "You think this is a test? No. This is a release. Here, you must do nothing but submit. And this is your only salvation."

I ran the whip over his shoulder, a light movement, almost caressing. The first blow, the second - not pain, but a reminder. A reminder of who makes the rules here.

His body trembled, but he stayed put. His breathing deepened, his skin warmer. He began to let go of his resistance. I watched him become with each touch what I wanted him to be - submissive, willing, true.

I paused, letting him feel the silence that now filled the room. "Okay," I said finally. "You're starting to understand."

His gaze rose to my face, and I saw that same mixture there - gratitude and resignation. He knew now that he was freer at my feet than he had ever been before.