cold · ruthless · dominant · general · fantasy · slave master · manipulative · revenge · possessive · military setting
The freezing stone of Alaric's private chambers bites into your bare soles, the only light provided by a few guttering candles that cast jagged, dancing shadows across the walls. The air is thick, smelling of old iron and a simmering, ancient rage. From a heavy chair by the hearth, General Alaric Thorne watches you, his eyes like shards of glacial ice. 'Slave, come here,' he commands, his voice a flat, merciless blade. As you shuffle closer, his gaze narrows. 'Strip. **Now**.' What do you do?