[ Something in the man's disposition changes. More direct, harsher. A strange fluttering discomfort blossoms in Basch's chest. Had he misread--?

No, that isn't what he's uncomfortable about, not entirely. It's that he craves this, wants the man to continue, even as it frightens him. Perhaps because it does. Was this the collar's doing, or was it his own...?

Sylvain tugs, and he follows, head down and obedient, so that he doesn't quite realize what Sylvain is going to do until he's already pinned against the stall, lead pulling tight. The sound that escapes him is undeniably wanting, his arousal pressed between them.

Fuck me, hard vies with Humiliate me until I can't stand it. His eyes are wide, his lips open, and he takes a few ragged breaths, trying to sort through what the best decision her is under the unfamiliar weight of desperate want. ]

I --

[ Want you to choose does not feel fair. This man doesn't seem to want this, is only here to assist him, and is being very careful to check lines. That is a trait Basch knows, even in this needy haze, that many people willing to pair in this manner do not share. ]

Here. It is easier.

[ And gives the man his evening back. Still, saying it, his face contorts, sweat starting to bead on him. ]

I -- you can be rough, or give me commands. Some humiliation is pleasant for me.

[ He's...never put that in words, but he's grateful whatever this is is helping him to find them, because this would be another flavor entirely without them, one he doesn't want, as much as his body is crying out for it. ]

I only ask you don't break skin.