**Chapter 5: Ownership**

The darkness was almost unbearable, but Charlie didn't mind. He was used to waiting, used to anticipating the touch of a master. The virus had conditioned him to crave domination, to beg for attention. And now, as he sat in front of the computer, he felt a sense of excitement building in his chest. The screen flickered to life, and a figure appeared on the monitor. He was tall, imposing, and exuded an aura of confidence that made Charlie's heart skip a beat. The figure didn't say a word, but Charlie knew that he was here, that he was the one. Charlie's body began to tremble with anticipation as the figure started to type on the keyboard. The words appeared on the screen, and Charlie read them with a sense of desperation: "Welcome, my slave. I have been waiting for you." The figure on the screen started to move, his image morphing into a live feed. Charlie saw that he was in a room, a dimly lit space with a single chair in the center. The figure walked towards the chair, and Charlie knew that he was being summoned. "Come to me," the figure typed, his words appearing on the screen. "Surrender to me, and I will give you what you crave." Charlie didn't hesitate. He got up from his chair, his body aching with desire, and walked towards the computer. He felt a sense of excitement building in his chest, a sense of anticipation that he couldn't control. As he approached the screen, the figure reached out and touched the glass. The image distorted, and Charlie felt a jolt of electricity run through his body. He was being pulled into the screen, pulled into the world of the figure. Charlie's vision blurred, and he felt himself being transported to the room. He found himself standing in front of the chair, his body trembling with desire. The figure looked up at him, his eyes piercing and dominant. "Welcome, my slave," he said, his voice low and husky. "You are mine now. You will do as I say, and you will take what I give you." Charlie nodded, his body surrendering to the figure. He felt a sense of relief wash over him, a sense of release. He was no longer in control; he was no longer responsible. The figure reached out and touched Charlie's face, his fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. Charlie felt a jolt of electricity run through his body, and he knew that he was owned. "My name is Master," the figure said, his voice low and husky. "And you will call me that. You will obey me, and you will take what I give you." Charlie nodded, his body trembling with desire. He knew that he was in the presence of someone who was stronger, someone who was more powerful. And he was grateful. "Yes, Master," Charlie said, his voice a whispered plea. "I will obey you. I will take what you give me." The figure smiled, his eyes glinting with dominance. "Good," he said. "You will learn to obey. You will learn to surrender." And with that, Charlie knew that he was owned. He was no longer in control; he was no longer responsible. He was a slave, a plaything for Master to use and discard. And he was grateful. As Master reached out and took Charlie's hand, Charlie felt a sense of excitement building in his chest. He knew that he was in for a world of pleasure and pain, a world of submission and domination. And he was ready.