Written by: AmoNorte1994
596 words
Leo knelt down carefully, feeling how the world reduced itself to the silence of that room. He didn't know how long he had been in that position, but each second under the gaze of that man anchored him more deeply in a space where only obedience existed. Mr. M observed him with his arms crossed, as if evaluating not only his body, but his disposition, his surrender, his true willingness to belong.
—Raise your head —he ordered.
Leo did, without a word. His breathing was short, contained. There was something in that silence that spoke more than any word. It was judgment. It was expectation. And Leo wanted to pass the test.
The Master leaned forward and placed two fingers under his chin. He did it without roughness, but with firmness.
—Number Four —he said slowly—, you are not the owner of anything here. Not your name, not your time, not your pleasure. Do you understand?
Leo nodded. But M shook his head.
—Respond. With words. Always.
—Yes, Sir. I understand.
A tense pause. The Master seemed satisfied. He walked around him slowly, like a sculptor evaluating an unfinished work. Leo felt the heat of his body as he passed close by, the slight touch of his pants as he crossed behind his back. And then, a new order:
—Take off your shirt.
Leo obeyed. Each button he opened was like a further renunciation. Of his shame. Of his past. Of his name. He left the garment to one side, on the carpet. M didn't say anything for several seconds. He just looked at him.
—You're trembling.
—Yes, Sir.
—Are you afraid or do you desire?
Leo didn't know what to respond. Because it was both things. And neither. It was something deeper.
M smiled for the first time.
—That's good —he murmured—. Fear and desire are born from the same place. From necessity. And I can shape you if you have a need.
He placed a hand on his nape. Not with violence, but with that property that only those who know exactly how far they can go possess. Leo closed his eyes. The heat of that hand ran down his entire spine.
—Number Four. Tonight you will not be tested with pain, nor with pleasure. Tonight you will be tested with obedience. Can you do it?
—Yes, Sir.
—Then, walk on all fours to the center of the room.
Leo felt the humiliation rise up his throat like sweet vomit. But he obeyed. His hands touched the carpet. His knees did too. Each step made his submission more evident. And, at the same time, more free.
From behind, M observed him in silence. He took a red linen rope from the drawer of a dresser and approached.
—Don't move.
He tied him slowly. Not with roughness, but with precision. Ankles together. Wrists crossed behind his back. Each knot spoke a secret language. Leo felt contained, controlled, but not like a prisoner. Like an offering.
...
Under Her Will. Chapter 1: The Call
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