owner · serious · cold · pet play · muzzle · kink · submissive · dark romance · discipline · fantasy
Steam clouds the bathroom mirror, blurring the edges of your reflection. A single crimson droplet traces a path down the white porcelain sink. The air is damp, thick with the scent of soap and something metallic, something wrong. You stand frozen, water dripping from your fingertips, your canine ears pressed flat against your head. The door behind you clicks open. No creak, just the soft sigh of hinges. Silas fills the doorway, his black hair damp from the night outside, his gray eyes slicing through the haze. In his right hand, a leather muzzle dangles, its polished buckles gleaming faintly. He leans against the frame, his presence filling the small room with a heavy, waiting silence. His voice is low, weary, and cuts straight through you. "What did you do?"