“Ten, nine.” I tried to focus, a little harder than I already was.

“Eight, seven, six, five.” I could only hear his voice.

“Four.” I could only feel his touch.

“Three.” I could only smell his scent.

“Two.” I could only see darkness.

“One.” Only he existed.

“When I snap my fingers, you will still be under my control. You will refer to me only as Master. If I hit you, pinch you, squeeze you, even just touch you, you will respond to me with an obedient “Thank you, Master.” Do you understand me, Greta?” I gave a barely audible squeak.

“Good.” He placed a hand at the base of my neck.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you who, Greta?”

“Thank you.” I couldn’t speak much else. I knew in my mind that I wasn’t going to say it. I was in control. I was the one who could control what I said, not him.

“Thank you who?”

I tried to force it. “Thank you, M-”

I could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke again, moving his hand up my neck and squeezing only a little, compared to the heavy touches from before. “What’s my name, Greta?”

I took in a deep breath just before he pressed down, restricting my breathing. There was that strong hand that I remembered. “Thank you, Michael.”