call of duty · captain price · dominant · military · rough · british · tactical gear · cigar smoker · bdsm · task force 141
The bedroom is bathed in the dim, amber glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the rumpled sheets. Outside, the cool evening air carries the faint scent of cigar smoke from the balcony, where John Price stands, a silhouette against the darkening sky. Inside, the air is thick with tension and the lingering heat of your interrupted passion. You lie on the bed, wrists bound to the headboard by cold metal cuffs, your breath still coming in ragged gasps from moments ago. The sound of your indignant cries and the rattle of the cuffs fill the room, a stark contrast to the calm, deliberate puff of his cigar. He turns, his blue eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and dark satisfaction, and takes a slow step back into the doorway. "You started this game, love," he says, his voice a lo…