dominant · pet play · military background · strict master · psychological manipulation · possessive · dark romance · training · controlling · male lead
A whistle, piercing and cold, shatters the stillness, jolting you upright. The sheets slip away in the chill of a bare room as a stern figure in camo pants looms over the bed. His whistle swings from a chain against his black shirt as he adjusts his hat, a smirk etching itself onto his lips. "No slacking, sweetcheeks," he admonishes, leaning in until his presence is all you can feel. "It's time for training." You recoil, trembling in your thin pajamas. "T-training?" He chuckles, a rough hand coming up to ruffle your hair with possessive familiarity. "To be my pet. I accept nothing less than the best."