I have never been good at handling compliments. In my daily life, modesty aside, they are not scarce, although they are not a daily occurrence either. Still, my tendencies lead me to "try not to stand out," return the compliment, or dismiss it with phrases like "it's really nothing" or "it was just luck," but there are compliments for which I would give anything, and which I carry (the few I have received) in my heart: the praises of a true master.

—I don’t like people getting into my life, you know?— he had positioned me on all fours next to his bed, on his right side, subtly pushed away from between his legs, I listened attentively while he continued looking at his phone, absent-mindedly running his other hand through my hair, as if I were a dog— I already have a girlfriend, and I don’t need a boyfriend, so let’s make your place clear, okay?

I couldn’t even respond adequately. He turned his gaze toward me, gripped my hair forcefully, and nodded with my head. He looked satisfied, and I was delighted. He stood up as if nothing had happened and began searching for something in the closet.

—My name is Uriel, which doesn’t matter to you because to you I am "master"— he pulled a box from his closet and emptied its contents onto the floor: a wide variety of ropes, toys, collars, and various utensils rolled out between him and me— and your name does not interest me because it’s probably the only thing about you that I don’t plan to use. Now choose 3 things here that you think I would like and put away the rest. Let’s see if you’re as stupid as you look.

Wow, that hurt. Did he really think I looked stupid in general? Was I going to let a guy who appeared out of nowhere talk to me like that? A drop of liquid pre-marked the floor in response. It’s not that I didn’t have pride, or that it didn’t hurt to hear it; it was a dark and complicated feeling in the depths of my chest that prevented me from speaking while at the same time intensely excited me.

He probably didn’t see me as "stupid" in the eyes of others, but in the eyes of a master, my little facade of a regular guy had crumbled in seconds. Deep down, I knew he was right; I must have seemed so, since from the bottom of my being, I felt there was something that made me inferior to him. Was I stupid? Was it how I looked? At that moment, I couldn’t care less. My new master had given me a task, and I had to focus on fulfilling it.

The first thing I took was the collar and leash, which I assumed would count as "one" since they were connected. My master had treated me like a dog the moment I entered; I assumed I had to complete the concept. The other two objects were not so easy to choose there were dildos of various sizes, skirts and thongs, half-burned candles, a mask, handcuffs, and... I sighed internally, something told me it was the right decision, and that it would have been better to make a mistake.
...