He had been messaging me for weeks—nervous, needy, desperate to serve. I didn’t respond right away. I let him sit in his craving. Let him imagine what it would be like to kneel for a man who doesn’t beg, doesn’t flatter—only commands. When I finally sent him my address, I gave no details. Just: "7PM. Be clean. Be still." He showed up on time. I heard the knock, but didn’t answer right away. I wanted him sweating, wonderin...