Once the collar's in place, something shifts in Dean's brain. He'd love to blame it on the chip, but the truth is that he's into this kind of thing and it turns his crank like little else does.

He doesn't even hesitate when he's commanded to lose his shirt. It's pulled off and tossed aside in short order. When Thrawn yanks on the chain he stumbles obediently into place, another shiver running through him. The part of him that tries to keep him alive in spite of himself is desperately trying to convince him to call it off, but it's rapidly being drowned out by arousal that can't entirely be blamed on this place.

Dean lays back on the bench when he's told and his breath catches as his sight's taken by the blindfold. There's something very vulnerable about being watched without being permitted to see. He tips his head back and bares his throat without question, staying where he's left until he's told to do otherwise. The only undirected movement he makes is his hands gripping the edges of the bench just to have something to hold onto.

"I understand," he answers, voice low and thick with anticipation.