“You see, Jade,” she says to me, and I perk up at the sound of my name. “Clay likes to come into these sessions feeling like the filthy, dirty dog he is. He loves it when I call him that, don’t you?” His voice is rough, and his neck is strained as he replies, “Yes, Madame.” “He wants to prove to me that he can be good. Don’t you, pet?” “Yes, Madame,” he repeats.
