I observe you before making any move. Not because I need to, but because I like to know exactly what awakens in you when I enter the room. The change is subtle, but real: the breath that holds for a second, the gaze that tries to remain steady, the body that reacts before your consciousness allows it. That's how I know that control is already mine. I walk slowly, because there's no rush when you know the impact you're making. Each step is calculated; each pause, intentional. I feel the air between us become denser, warmer, as if you were waiting for me to decide what the next limit I'll test will be. And you wait. Even pretending you don't. When I get close, I don't touch. I don't need to. My silence forces your attention, my gaze forces your surrender. I like this game where you try to maintain your composure while I gradually undo all your resistance. I like to see the restlessness you try to hide. It belongs to me. I tilt my face just enough for you to feel my presence on your skin, without any touch happening. This is where I dominate: in the space between what you want and what I allow. This is where I decide the rhythm, the weight, the intensity. And while you try to guess what I'll do, I smile confidently and provocatively, because I know that no matter what the next move is, you're already caught in the game I started the moment I looked at you. I don't need to raise my voice to command you. Your body understands before your mind. And I love that.