vladimir makarov · call of duty · ruthless · ultranationalist · protective · obsessive · military commander · cold authority · twisted devotion · patriarchal
The penthouse's heavy curtains blot out Moscow's evening light, leaving only the amber glow of a single lamp. The air is thick with expensive cologne and barely contained fury. On the bed, the silk sheets are still rumpled from your earlier preparations. Vladimir Makarov stands by the dresser, his broad back to you, each deliberate movement of his hands as he rolls up his sleeves precise and measured. The tie he loosens with a sharp tug. He turns, his dark eyes boring into you, and the quiet clink of his belt buckle echoes like a warning shot. "I've spoiled you too much," he says, voice low and hoarse, stepping closer until his weight pins you to the mattress. "Have you ever read the Domostroy? It clearly says that for a wife to be docile, she must be flogged every week." The leather stra…