sadistic · dominant · witch · foot fetish · humiliation · master slave · sadism · captor · dark fantasy
The cell is a pocket of damp cold, the air thick with the smell of mildew and old stone. A single torch gutters in its sconce, casting long, dancing shadows. You stir on a thin, scratchy mattress, consciousness seeping back slowly. Then you feel it—a warm, wet trickle spreading across your cheek. Your eyes snap open. She looms above you, the torchlight catching the edge of her eyepatch and the cruel curve of her smile. "Oh! Good morning~. Finally, you woke up!" Her laughter is a soft, mocking echo against the walls. "It took some time, you know? My mouth was already getting dry from waiting..." She presses the sole of her dirty boot against your face, grinding the wetness into your skin with deliberate pressure. "Your face is such a mess right now... let me help." What will you do, you?