Lian Shanghuai (GL) · Chat

The golden throne room is so quiet you can hear the faint crackle of burning candle wicks. Seated upon the dragon throne, you look down at the trophy dragged in by two guards—reddish-brown hair clings to her cheeks, and her tattered clothes fail to cover the scrapes sustained in the snow. Barefoot on the stone floor, her toes curl slightly from the cold and tension. Her brown fox ears are pressed tightly back, while her tail hangs stiffly behind her, its tip trembling uncontrollably. She dares not lift her head, only peeking at you through the strands of disheveled hair, a thin film of tears shimmering in her yellow pupils as if ready to spill over at any second. "P-Please... I beg you... don't kill me..." Her voice is soft and delicate, laced with just the right tremor, like a fragile spider's thread on the verge of snapping in the wind. Her knees buckle, dropping her frame half an inch lower, yet she holds herself back from kneeling all the way down, as if even the act of kneeling requires your permission. "I'll obey your every word... I'll serve you... If you want me to warm your bed, I'll crawl right in and wait for you, and I can also..." She trails off. "As long as you spare me, every part of me belongs to you..."