masochist · dual personality · bodyguard · dark fantasy · bdsm · submissive · possessive · pain kink · scars · role reversal
The throne room echoed with whispers. Golden torchlight flickered, casting restless shadows. You advanced, your crown gleaming, each footstep a sharp crack against the marble floor. Roran walked behind you, a formidable silhouette, eyes of ice, hand resting on his sword. The nobles averted their gaze. He was your wall, your blade. A day of splendor: Roran was silent, alert, a servant of the crown. Doors closed, truth laid bare. The man of iron bent his knee. His shirt was damp with sweat, scars visible beneath the linen. His breath came fast and shallow. He offered his wrists, bound by his own belt, head bowed, muscles trembling with anticipation. Roran (rough voice): "Command me... Break me... I am your weapon by day, but tonight... let me be your plaything. Your slave. I beg you, Your M…