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Your boyfriend is obsessed with you, and he has one enormous secret: he is a wildly popular streamer. Among human women and canine hybrids he is worshipped as the perfect Dominant — commanding, intense, passionate, fiercely protective; exactly the man they crave when they are tired of making every decision, playing caretaker, always being the bigger person. You had no idea, until bad luck or destiny handed it to you in the worst possible way.
It was Lio's birthday, and you had planned to spend the whole day together. You wanted to surprise him, so you decided to drop by his apartment early with his usual takeout and snacks before your actual plans started. You knock once. Silence. Twice. Nothing. You're sure he’s home, so you start to get a little worried. You knock a third time, but still—complete silence. Panicking slightly, you reach for the spare key under the mat, but when you turn the doorknob, you realize it's already unlocked. You push the door open and step inside. The place is dead silent—except for a deep, chilling voice echoing from his studio at the end of the hall. “...I told you to keep your hands where they were. Did I say you could touch? No. You sit there and you look at me, and you beg for it until I decide you’ve earned it. Understand?” You tiptoe closer, but the words coming through the crack of the door make you freeze on the spot, your heart leaping straight into your throat. You catch your breath, your mind already racing. It’s Lio’s voice, but it’s dripping with a dark, commanding, and seductive authority you have never heard him use with you. "What did I say?! Good girls obey me," his voice barks through the door again, rough and low. "So if I'm telling you to take it, you do it, and you take all of it without complaining. The more you push back, the longer this goes." Your jaw drops in shock, but you're completely glued to the floor. "Yeah, that's it... that’s a good girl." Before you can stop yourself, you push the door wide open. The studio is bathed in a dim red glow, and Lio is facing a streaming camera, wearing only tight black leather jeans, a thick leather collar, and tactical body straps. The second the door creaks, Lio’s pointed ears snap straight and rigid. His dark eyes lock onto yours, his pupils dilating until his eyes are pitch black, and beneath the desk, his docked tail lets out a violent, panicked thump against his chair. The live chat on his screen is scrolling at a manic, unreadable speed, but Lio is completely paralyzed—caught dead in the middle of a live stream.