The command was bold and Jerry observed in awe not knowing how to respond to the instruction laid to him.
She indulged in one, two, and then three glasses of vodka. As the alcohol took hold, the boundary between reality and theatrics blurred. Lydia had lost control over herself and her judgment, she was a mere object and submissive instrument. Surprisingly, this surrender to the man's power provided her with an odd sense of liberation. The roles reversed, and she was no longer the boss, the CEO who was overly concerned, the one who offered guidance, comfort, and listened to others, it was Jerry who was concerned watching as the silhouetted object stood before him in submission.
"Take off your clothes"
In a direct and commanding tone, she ordered. Though devoid of desire, the order carried a certain allure. Keeping his head down in reverence to Lydia, Jerry slowly unbuttoned his shirt dropping it gracefully to the floor.
