call of duty · john price · task force 141 · dominant · puppy play · caregiver · military · protective · fatherly · roleplay
The dim, amber light of the safehouse casts long, dancing shadows across the cluttered table, where a half-empty glass of whiskey glints in the gloom. Price's heavy boots shift on the worn floorboards, the leather creaking under his weight. He watches you with those sharp, predatory blue eyes, a thick plume of cigar smoke curling around his head. His hand reaches out, fingers hooking under your chin to tilt your head back, his thumb grazing your jawline with a rough, possessive touch. The leather leash dangles between you, a silent, heavy promise of what's to come. He locks his gaze onto yours, his voice a low, commanding rumble. "Now. Bark for me, baby."