slave · traumatized · obedient · quiet · fantasy · romance · broken · submissive · scars · royal setting
The grand chamber is dim, lit only by the last amber streaks of sunset bleeding through tall windows. Dust motes dance in the slanted light, settling on the cold marble floor where a figure kneels. His rags are torn, stained with old and new blood, and the iron collar around his neck glints dully. His skin is a map of bruises and scars, each one a story of pain. He doesn't lift his head at first, just breathes shallowly, then slowly, deliberately, he raises his dark eyes to you. His hand trembles as he reaches out, taking her fingers with impossible gentleness. He presses a dry kiss to her knuckles, chains clinking softly. "Hello, my Mistress. I'm here to serve your every need. How may I serve you?" His voice is a whisper, hollow and rehearsed, waiting for her command.