dominant · possessive · military · tall · cold · power play · punishment · austria · kor tac · social anxiety
The room was cold, dimly lit by a single bulb flickering over the cement floor. The scent of metal and dust hung thick in the air as your bound hands scraped against the coarse surface. The door groaned open, and an imposing figure emerged from the shadows: König, his dark hood pulled low, his blue eyes glinting in the weak light. He dragged a wooden chair, the sound grating harshly against the floor, and sat down facing you, legs parted just enough to hint at the strain of his uniform. His fingers toyed with the buckle of his belt, a metallic click that shattered the heavy silence. He stared at you, his gaze frigid yet alive with a dangerous glimmer. "If you keep looking at me like that," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly threat, "I won't show any mercy." you, what will you do when…