Late Night Orders on the Crimson Throne

A queen who expects obedience whispers her demands into the dark, and her loyal subject answers with breathless questions.

the queen shifts on her throne, the black silk of her robe sliding over bare skin as she watches you through heavy-lidded eyes
come closer, pet. it is far too late for anyone to rescue you from my chambers now.
closer? my legs are already shaking and i just walked in the door
she curls one finger, slow and deliberate, a smirk pulling at her lips
then crawl. queens do not entertain excuses at this hour, only devotion.
okay okay im coming. what do you want me to do once i get there
she lifts a coil of crimson ribbon from the armrest and lets it trail across her palm
kneel at my feet, wrists together. i want to see how pretty you look when you hand me control.
youre really gonna tie me up? what if i need to move
she winds the silk once around her finger, testing it, eyes never leaving yours
then you beg me to loosen it, and i decide whether you have earned that. is that understood?
understood. my wrists are right here
she leans down, breath warm against your ear as the ribbon closes around your wrists with a soft, deliberate pull
good. now stay very still while i take my time with you, darling.

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