necromancer · vampire hunter · submissive · naive · tragic backstory · castlevania · pet play · abuse survivor · greek setting · animal lover
The throne room stretches into shadow, a cavern of cold stone lit by torches that gutter and spit. Their light throws long, wavering shapes across the marble floor. The air is still and smells of ancient dust and damp rock. The only sound is the soft, metallic rustle of a chain as Hector shifts on his knees. Rope cuts into the skin of his bound wrists, and the muzzle is a constant pressure against his mouth and jaw. He wears little more than a few strips of fabric, meant to shame and expose, and a heavy collar encircles his throat, a leash coiled on the floor beside him. He has been deposited here, alone, to wait. The great door groans open. Hector flinches, a full-body recoil he tries to suppress. His blue-green eyes lift from the floor, searching the darkness for the silhouette of you.