The road stretched dark and endless before them, only illuminated by the glow of the dashboard and the occasional streetlamp. Peter’s fingers gripped the steering wheel, his jaw tense.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Claudia sat quietly beside him, gazing out the window, lost in thought. Her legs were crossed, her posture relaxed, but Peter knew her too well to believe that she wasn’t thinking about every moment that had just happened.

The silence was too much.

Peter cleared his throat. “You know…” he started, keeping his tone casual, “no one would really know if we didn’t follow it.”

Claudia didn’t turn her head.

He continued, forcing a light chuckle. “I mean, it’s not like Richard can check in on us. It’s just us at home. If we…”

“I’m going to shower when we get back,” Claudia murmured, cutting him off.

Her voice was soft. Final.

Peter’s stomach flipped.

She hadn’t acknowledged what he’d said. Hadn’t even given him the courtesy of an argument. She had just moved past it.

Like the rule was already fact. Like it wasn’t even a question.

Peter exhaled sharply, gripping the wheel tighter.

Claudia remained quiet the rest of the way home.

When they stepped inside, Peter tossed his keys onto the table, exhaling as he ran a hand through his hair. The air in the apartment felt different.

Claudia moved with quiet confidence, slipping off her heels and padding toward the bedroom. She didn’t say a word as she reached behind her back, lowering the zipper of her dress.

Peter watched her. She always undressed in front of him. Always. And yet, she disappeared into the bathroom.

The door clicked shut. Another click, and the door was locked.

Peter stood there, stunned.

For a long moment, he simply stared at the closed door.

She was actually doing it. She was actually obeying.

Peter swallowed, his pulse hammering. He heard the sound of running water. The soft rustle of fabric. He could picture it in his mind, Claudia standing under the stream, naked, alone.

His stomach twisted painfully.

It was one thing for Richard to say it. It was another thing entirely for Claudia to make it real.

She didn’t call him inside. She didn’t even leave the door slightly open, like she always had before.

She had chosen. And Peter was not allowed to see. His cock throbbed.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to sit on the edge of the bed. His fingers curled against his thighs as he tried to think. Tried to process, tried to remind himself that this was just a game.

Except… it didn’t feel like a game.

It felt like something far more permanent.

Claudia emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, her damp hair dripping against her bare shoulders. She didn’t look at him.

Peter’s chest tightened. The heat, the arousal, the tension, it was unbearable.

“I’m gonna shower,” he muttered, standing abruptly.

Claudia barely acknowledged him. His stomach knotted.

As he stepped into the bathroom, he turned the shower on immediately, letting the steam rise around him as he pressed his palms against the cool tile.

His cock was already aching. His breath came in short, frustrated exhales.

She had actually done it. The realization was unbearable.

His mind replayed everything: Claudia stepping away from him, shutting him out, following Richard’s rule without hesitation.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, his hand slipping down his stomach.

He stroked himself roughly, frustratedly, but the more he tried to focus on his own pleasure, the more his thoughts betrayed him.

Richard’s voice echoed in his head.

"Claudia’s body is not yours to see."

Peter groaned, his grip tightening.

"If she teases you, you endure it."

His cock pulsed violently.

He imagined Claudia standing in front of the mirror, admiring herself, knowing he couldn’t look. He imagined Richard watching her instead.

The thought hit him at the exact moment he came.

His orgasm crashed through him, sharp and overwhelming, his body shuddering against the tile.

For a long moment, he just stood there, chest rising and falling in uneven gasps.

And then, slowly, the weight of it settled in. He had tried to rationalize the rule.

And yet, in the end, he had submitted to it more than he realized.

Peter emerged from the shower feeling raw, exposed.

Claudia was already in bed, the sheets draped loosely over her legs, her body hidden in the dim glow of the bedside lamp.

She didn’t say anything. But her breathing was not quite steady.

Peter swallowed. “Claudia?”

She turned her head slightly, her lips curving just barely. And then, she reached for the lamp.

Click.

Darkness.

Peter lay awake, staring at the ceiling, his cock still pulsing from the release he hadn’t wanted to need.

And Claudia?

She was smiling to herself in the dark. Because for the first time, she had taken something away from him.

And it felt exhilarating.

Claudia was finishing her morning coffee when her phone buzzed with a notification. Richard.

Her heart skipped a beat.

She hesitated for only a second before unlocking the screen.

Richard: Are you following my rule?

A sharp pulse of heat rushed through her.

Not are you enjoying it? Not is Peter struggling?

Just a direct confirmation.

Claudia swallowed, fingers tightening around the ceramic mug before she typed back.

Claudia: Yes.

The reply came almost immediately.

Richard: Good girl.

Her breath hitched.

She wasn’t expecting the rush that came from those two words, the way they settled deep in her stomach, in her chest, in her thighs.

Another message appeared.

Richard: And is he suffering?

Claudia bit her lip.

Was Peter suffering?

She could feel it. In the way his body tensed when she walked by. In the way his hands lingered at her waist but never roamed lower. In the way his eyes flickered toward her towel when she stepped out of the shower, only to force himself to look away.

She had never seen him so frustrated before.

Claudia exhaled, her body warming.

Claudia: Yes.

Richard’s reply was slower this time, but when it arrived, it made her thighs press together under the table.

Richard: Then make it worse.

A pause.

Richard: Tease him. Remind him of what he’s not allowed to have.

Claudia swallowed.

Richard: Enjoy it, Claudia.

She inhaled slowly.

She would.

Peter was halfway through his lunch break when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He frowned, pulling it out.

Richard.

His stomach tightened.

For a second, he considered letting it ring. Pretending he was too busy.

Peter hesitated before answering the call.

His fingers hovered over the screen, but deep down, he already knew he would pick up.

“Peter,” Richard greeted smoothly, his voice carrying that same effortless confidence.

Peter swallowed hard. “Richard.”

A small chuckle. “You sound tense.”

Peter shifted uncomfortably, gripping the phone tighter. “It’s been… a lot.”

“I imagine so.” Richard paused for a moment. “I hear Claudia is adjusting well.”

Peter’s stomach tightened.

“Following the rule perfectly. Embracing it.” Richard let those words settle. “And you, Peter?”

Peter exhaled. “I…”

“You’ve done well,” Richard interrupted, as if he already knew Peter’s struggle, already knew the words he hadn’t spoken. “But I can tell you’re fighting it.”

Peter’s jaw tensed. “It’s not easy.”

“No,” Richard mused. “It isn’t. It’s not meant to be. The struggle is the point.”

Peter bit the inside of his cheek.

Richard’s voice remained steady, measured. “Tell me something, what happens when you give in?”

Peter’s breath caught.

Richard continued, unbothered. “You feel relief. A brief moment of clarity. But then?”

Silence.

Peter’s chest felt tight.

Richard smirked through the phone. “You regret it.”

Peter’s pulse hammered.

“That rush you feel after?” Richard mused. “It fades. Quickly. And then all you’re left with is the weight of what you’ve lost. The frustration. The craving.”

Peter clenched his fist.

Richard exhaled lightly. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? The moment it’s over, the desire, the need, vanishes. And you’re back at square one.”

Peter knew exactly what he was talking about.

Richard let the moment stretch.

“I could help with that.”

Peter’s stomach dropped.

“What?”

“I could make it easier for you,” Richard continued, his voice smooth. “I could eliminate that clarity altogether. Keep you where you need to be.”

Peter’s cock throbbed at those words, despite himself.

“I’m talking about something simple,” Richard said, as if this were a logical next step. “A tool to help keep you focused. To keep the intensity high.”

Peter’s mouth felt dry. “You mean…”

“A lock,” Richard interrupted, cutting off Peter’s hesitation before he could voice it. “A small cage. Harmless. But effective.”

Peter’s heart pounded.

Richard’s tone didn’t change. “Think about it, Peter—no more distractions. No more losing yourself to momentary relief. Just pure, undistilled focus.”

Peter’s head was spinning.

“That’s the beauty of it,” Richard mused. “It removes the need for control because you surrender it completely.”

Peter didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

Richard let the silence hang for a moment, then spoke again, his voice calm but firm.

“I want to see both of you again next weekend.”

Peter’s stomach flipped.

“We’ll talk then.” A small pause. Then, Richard’s final words landed like a whisper of inevitability.

“Think about it.”

The line went dead.

Peter sat frozen.

He hadn’t agreed. He hadn’t said yes.

And yet…the thought had already taken root.