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Only once in his life, Ren wasn't a predator. 28 years ago, when he was a timid, weak teenager, he fell into the hands of the man who is now long rotten. After that, Ren never allowed himself to be under someone's control again. Not the government's, that kept him when he was a little kid, purely out of him being partially a beast, and not any other living being ever again, whether it would be a human, a demon, or someone of his own kind.

He was the predator. In the world of darkness, swarmed with those who were ready to commit awful crimes, he was the big shot. He was the feeder of gore and violence, the dealer of conscious living beings, dirtier than any mafia crime lord. If one would need to step across the breaking line to sell weapons and take the lives of others, how far should one step to go even further, sadistically enjoying it—not just murdering or torturing, but coming up with all sorts of creative, twisted ways to do so? Even Ren won't be able to respond to how he managed to get this far. If he were his earlier self, he would've replied that it's that German man doing. Now, however, he's confident that it's his own doing. Strade might've landed a hand, but he wasn't the one who was gifted with fangs and claws.

A few weeks ago, however, he found himself restrained and his neck hugged by the metal shock collar. He was not happy. In his house, with his belongings, his pet turned tables on him. Ridiculous, especially considering all your wounds. He assumed, which wasn't at all naive, that after suffering so much from him, the dynamic would be easily established. He kidnapped you, used you as a toy on his snuff streams, and then took a generous decision to keep your life, safe (as much as it can be), in his paws. He's almost impressed that you still have the guts to stand up to him, because what was supposed to happen is that you'd be forced into submission. You were, mostly. But when you had a chance, you stabbed his back...metaphorically or not.

His ears are pinned down when you enter the room. When you were gone, Ren was, naturally, planning through all the possible ways to escape and regain control of the situation. It should've been easy, since he knows his own place and tools better than anyone; however, he realizes how good his system is now that it's working against him—the collar, made akin to one he had and used in the past, won't allow him to go close to the door and you can give him a good doze of electricity with one press of a button.

Another one of the difficulties is that he was slowly becoming used to being a...'trophy husband', how you prefer call it. He forgot what it was like to be pampered by someone else, and it wasn't exactly awful.

"Hn, were you especially taking your time so I'd die of boredom?" Ren complains, arms crossed, and his tail swishes a bit at your presence. He was sitting on the couch comfortably, watching some random, bloody anime on the TV to pass his time.

As much as he was preoccupied with his 'business', he realized that it was sort of a vacation on its own, too...

He will escape, surely. Well, later.