[ Michael feels pretty good. He's not-- anything other than good right now. Alert and sharp, like he's moving too fast. He feels kind of nauseous, but it's-- a weird kind of nauseous. Nauseous in a good way. It's difficult to care about things like this, and there's a part of him that finds that kind of blind burst of pleasure to be-- kind of disgusting? Like he's lesser for having done this. Smaller. But. ]

I'm already broke and desperate. I'm a sub without a contract. That's how they want me.

[ He'll care more when he can think clearer. Michael's smiling, but he's impatient and kind of sharp when he speaks. Tate's telling him not to do more, and now he wants to do more just to be combative. ]

C'mon. More. I'm paying for this. You can't hold out on me.