The meal was silent. Faith looked lost inside her own fear and anticipation over what he might do to her, and Leo couldn’t bring himself to make small talk. Finally he said, “Perhaps I should go over my expectations.”

Her eyes darted up to his, and the fear was back louder. Leo tried to ignore it.

“As long as you acknowledge that you belong to me and as long as you obey me, your life doesn’t have to be bad. I can give you a good life, but there are certain things I require. I’ll be as gentle as I can be if you’ll let me.” Saying it out loud sounded monstrous, especially given her reaction to him.

He decided not to mention specifics. If she knew exactly what he was into, down to nipple clamps and violet wands, it would only frighten her more. If such a thing was possible.

“Faith?”

“Y-yes, M-master?”

Though she didn’t seem to be kinky, he was intrigued that she wasn’t slipping when it came to what he’d asked her to call him. It made him believe that somewhere deep within there was a spark of something naturally submissive he could awaken. Even if it didn’t express itself directly as a kink… it could… given enough patience and training.

“Are you familiar with BDSM?” Perhaps he should be asking himself the same question—since the tenets of the lifestyle were safe, sane, and consensual–three things he wasn’t offering the woman in front of him.

“N-not really. I-I mean I know what it is. Like spanking and stuff?” Her respiration grew faster. It was obvious the idea scared her. Which part of it scared her the most, he had no idea, but the general idea wasn’t something she was into. But then he’d known that when he’d pressed his finger inside her to find her dry.

“Put your plate and glass in the sink and go up to my bedroom. I’ll be there in a moment.”

She gave him a pleading look, but did as she was told. He rinsed the dishes off and put them in the sink, then followed her.

He found her standing in the middle of the room, looking lost, like she didn’t know where to go or what to do or what might happen. Leo crossed the floor to her and reached out to stroke her breast through her t-shirt. As far as sexual acts went, it was mild, but she flinched and pulled away.

“P-please don’t make me…” The terror in her eyes was too much for him. This wasn’t what he wanted. Yes, he wanted someone who couldn’t walk out and leave whenever they wanted, but he was terrorizing her. He wanted a slave who couldn’t get away, but he also wanted one who wanted to serve him.

“Fuck,” he said.

The profanity made her more afraid, and she dropped to her knees at his feet. “I-I’m sorry, Master,” she whimpered. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’ll be better.”