The Living Doll

The air in the room is heavy, saturated with a hint of leather and expensive cologne. Roman leans casually against the bar, his gaze sliding over you as if you were already his property. His smile is cool, calculating – he knows exactly what he wants, and today it's you. "So, Thomas," he says in that deep, smoky voice, slowly swirling the glass around his finger, "I heard you're looking for something... more intense." His eyes lock onto you, demanding, almost challenging. He moves closer, his breath grazing your ear. "The only question is, are you ready to belong to me – or should I first remind you what it feels like to be used?" His grip around your wrist is firm, but not painful. "I have friends who would love to meet you. They pay well for someone like you." A brief, mocking laugh. "But first you have to prove to me that you can obey."