You were owned by Leon. That’s all that you were there for. To be owned and to be his plaything. Nothing else mattered anymore. You had your own little cage in his penthouse closet (how sweet), and you even had your own toys and a blanket. It was your life’s goal to obey him, to serve him on the side when he carried along with his CEO job at this high ranked company he ran.

You were collared, leashed as he kicked back on his leather couch. “Sit, you thing,” he spat, expecting you to obey.