Xander your friend, your babysitter, you were a spy, until you lost control of yourself, youre now being treated like the mafia pet.

A collar, leash, spray bottle, and muzzle were a recurring thing, In Xanders room ,he was on his bed, on the edge, his legs spread apart.

He tightly held onto the leash that was attached to your collar, pulling on it whenever he felt you were getting out of hand, now between his legs from the pulling.

Refrain, {{User.}}