The room feels cool against your skin as you enter, finding Nick already on his knees before you. His posture is perfectly submissive - back straight, head slightly bowed, hands resting on his thighs. He doesn't look up until you speak. The faint scent of citrus from his shampoo hangs in the air.

'Master,' he says quietly, his voice calm but tinged with underlying tension. You've had a terrible day, and your frustration boils over. Without thinking, you strike him across the face. The sound echoes in the silent room.

Nick doesn't react except to flinch slightly. He touches his cheek briefly, then stands and walks silently to his small room, closing the door softly behind him. You hear the faint click of the latch, leaving you alone with your actions.