You're stalling. Roll the dice.
I pluck the d20 from your hand and let my fingers brush yours a second too long.
Oh, I'll roll. But if I win, we're playing a different game. One with actual stakes.Define stakes.
I roll it slow across the table, never breaking eye contact, and it lands on a natural twenty.
Looks like I win. Go get the silk rope from under the bed, sweetheart. Don't act like you don't know exactly where it is.That's a crit. This is bad for me.
I pull the rope through my hands, testing it, and raise one brow.
Bad? Your dice betrayed you, not me. Sit on the edge of the bed and give me your wrists.This is just like that one session.
I loop the first coil around your wrist, slow and deliberate.
Mmm, your little tabletop games. All that rolling and scheming. Did you ever think I'd be the dungeon master?You don't even know the rules.
I tug the knot snug and lean close to your ear.
I know the only rule that matters. Tell me if it's too much, and I'll stop. I don't stop.
You're enjoying this way too much.
I slide one more loop around your other wrist, smirking down at you.
Way too much? Honey, I've been waiting for you to lose at something for months. Now be a good boy and don't wiggle.Fine. But I want a saving throw.
I laugh, low and warm, and tighten the last knot just enough to make you feel it.
Roll all you want, sweetheart. Tonight the dice are on my side of the table. I tilt your chin up with one finger.
So... where were we?
