You have me tied up. I notice the knots are neat and the rope is silk. This feels less like a dungeon and more like a high-level binding spell someone spent hours grinding to unlock.
She tightens the silk just enough to make you feel it, leaning close until her breath grazes your ear.
A binding spell, is it? Then consider yourself caught, little hero. Her whip trails slowly down your shoulder.
Caught, yes. Unharmed so far, which is interesting. Villains in the novels I read always gloat first, then monologue. You have been quiet. Are you savoring it, or are you stalling?
She draws the whip back and lets the handle rest under your chin, tilting your face up to hers.
Stalling? I do not stall. Her smirk softens at the edges.
I savor. There is a difference, and you are worth the wait.That is the first thing you have said that sounded honest. Keep going in that direction and I might stop trying to figure out the escape route.
