Obey

The drive to his address takes only eight minutes.

Every second feels longer than the last.

Emily grips the wheel with both hands, thighs pressed together, heart pounding so loud it drowns out the soft hum of the engine. She barely notices the turnings. Her nipples brush the inside of her shirt with each breath, the friction maddening. She hadn’t realized how aware she’d become of her own body—her braless weight, her heat, her still-damp panties pressing into her.

When she pulls into the driveway, the house looming before her is exactly what she expected.

Immaculate. Clean lines. Slate and glass. Expensive, but not flashy. A man’s house. Ordered. Precise.

He’s already parked. Already stepping out. Already walking toward her window.

He doesn’t speak as he approaches. Just gestures—one sharp movement—to stay in the car.

She obeys.

He circles the vehicle like he’s inspecting it all over again. But his eyes don’t look at the paint. Not this time.

They rake over her thighs, her bare knees, the fabric of her skirt pressed up against her inner thighs from where she’s been sitting. Her shirt has pulled tight across her chest, nipples still straining hard against the thin cotton. His gaze lingers there—longer than any man has in months.

He comes to her door. Opens it himself.

“Inside.”

She follows.

The front room is cool and quiet. Dimly lit. The kind of space no child has ever cried in. No clutter. No bottles. No diapers. Just black tile, dark wood, steel fixtures. A place untouched by softness.

He closes the door behind her. The click is final.

He doesn’t ask her name.

Doesn’t offer a seat.

He stands across from her, arms crossed. His eyes take her in fully now. Like prey. Like possession.

“You’re going to prove you’re sorry.”

Emily’s throat works in a dry swallow. “How?”

His voice is calm. Measured. “Strip. Slowly.”

She doesn’t answer right away.

Her hands twitch at her sides.

Her body is flushed, from shame or arousal she can’t say. She wants to turn away. To cover herself. To bolt.

But she doesn’t.