I spotted them before they saw me.

She was in heels, short dress, lips painted like temptation. He trailed slightly behind — polite, cautious, already folding inward. I knew their type. She was curious, ready. He was quiet, complicit. The dynamic was already there. All I had to do was claim it.

We met eyes across the bar. No smile, just recognition. She moved first — like instinct — and I watched her hips sway as she made her way toward me. He followed, hesitating only once.

I slid into the booth, back to the wall. The position was deliberate. She slid in beside me without being asked. Her body angled toward mine like gravity had chosen sides. He sat opposite, stiff, hands on the table like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“Good girl,” I murmured low, just for her. Her breath hitched — the smallest reaction, but I caught it.

The booth was tight. Her thigh pressed against mine, her scent fresh, nervous, excited. I kept one arm stretched along the backrest behind her, not touching yet — but owning the space.

He watched. Eyes flicking between us. Jealous, maybe. Or turned on by his own helplessness.

“You’ve told him what you need?” I asked her.

She nodded, but didn’t speak. Her lips were parted, and her pulse fluttered in her neck. I let my fingers brush just behind her ear — not a caress, more of a reminder.

“Say it.”

“I told him,” she said softly. “I need to be… taken. Owned.”

“And him?”

“He said he wants to see it. Hear it.”

I looked at him — still quiet across the table, eyes locked on my hand now resting on her thigh.

“You understand what you’re offering?” I asked him directly.

He nodded. Swallowed.

“Then stay right there. And don’t interrupt again.”

His eyes dropped. Perfect.

She shifted closer to me, her breath a little quicker now.

“You’re going to remember everything I say tonight,” I told her. “And so is he. But only one of you will feel it.”

Her eyes closed for half a second, soaking it in. Submission wasn’t fear. It was hunger finally answered.

I took her hand, laced my fingers through hers, and leaned into her ear.

“You’ll follow. You’ll obey. And when we leave this booth… you’ll leave your hesitation behind.”

She exhaled. Her fingers tightened in mine. Across from us, her husband sat in silence, already reduced to a witness.

Exactly where he belonged.

She shivered when I pulled the small remote from my pocket. It was subtle — just a flicker in her eyes and a slight shift in her posture — but I caught it. I always catch it.

I placed the remote on the table between us for a moment. Her gaze dropped to it. His did too.

“She’s wearing it,” I said calmly. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

He nodded slowly, mouth slightly open. He hadn’t said a word since I told him not to. Good.

I picked the remote back up and turned the dial slowly — not even to the first notch. Just a taste.

She gasped softly. Her thigh twitched against mine. I turned to her, one eyebrow raised.

“Hands on the table.”

She obeyed instantly, fingers splayed wide, trying to anchor herself. Her breathing deepened, but she didn’t look away from me. She was fighting it — trying to hold composure. I admired that.

Across from us, her husband was frozen, his eyes locked on her. I didn’t look at him. I didn’t need to. His place wasn’t to be seen — just to see.

“Color?” I asked her quietly.

“Green,” she whispered. Her voice trembled just enough to please me.

I turned the dial a notch higher.

Her lips parted, and she shifted in her seat, pressing her thighs together too late to stop it. Her body had already betrayed her.

“Speak,” I said.

“I feel it… inside,” she managed, her voice shaky. “It’s deep. It’s—”

I leaned closer. “It’s mine right now.”

She moaned — too quiet for the rest of the bar, but loud enough for him to hear.

His hand gripped the edge of the table, knuckles pale. I turned the remote one more time.

She let out a breathy, near-silent whimper and reached under the table instinctively — but I caught her wrist and placed it back on the wood.

“No touching. Not unless I say so.”

She nodded, barely able to keep her eyes open.

“You’re here to obey. He’s here to witness.”

She turned her head slightly toward her husband, dazed but obedient. Her cheeks flushed with shame and need. The mix was delicious.

“Ask him if he understands why he’s not allowed to touch you.”

She hesitated. Then she looked at him — her voice barely audible.

“Do you understand… why I need him more than I need you?”

He didn’t answer right away. He just swallowed.

“Say it,” I said to him. My voice was calm. Final.

“Yes,” he muttered. “I understand.”

I smiled, just a little, and dialed the toy back down. Her body sagged in relief, but she stayed upright. Trained.

“Good. You’ve both earned the next step.”

I slipped the remote into my pocket.

“Finish your drinks. We won’t be needing words after this.”