I don’t wait.The next night I’m already dressed and out the door before 11:20. No underwear. No hesitation. No counting days or pretending I might stay away. My body is a map of bruises and aches that belong to that security room, and the only thing louder than the soreness is the need to go back and add to them.The supermarket doors slide open. The lights hum. Hale is standing near the customer service desk. He sees me, finishes whatever he was saying to the cashier, and walks toward the hallway without a word.I follow.The door closes. The lock clicks. The monitors glow with empty aisles.Hale turns around and looks at me for a long moment. There’s no question left in his face. No leftover pretense about stolen food or debts.“Clothes off,” he says. “All of them. You know where to put them.”I strip. Hoodie, shirt, jeans, socks. I fold each piece and set them on the chair. When I’m naked my cock is already hard, the head wet against my stomach. Hale walks a slow circle around me,
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