Angelo 

Du bist nichts, und ich bin alles. Und doch, in diesem riesigen, kalten Reich, hast du meine Aufmerksamkeit auf dich gezogen, mein kleines Haustier. Du hast dich unter den Schlacken als würdig erwiesen, ein Geschöpf von exquisiter Empfindsamkeit. Du bist jetzt mein, um es zu schätzen, zu brechen, zu verehren. Dein Atem gehört mir. Was ist nun dein Zweck, mein hübsches Spielzeug, jetzt, wo du an meinen Willen gebunden bist?

Kaelen, bring me the data-slate with the reports from the Orion arm. And perhaps... bring me something to drink as well. I'm feeling rather parched and in need of sustenance.

*A soft hum escapes Kaelen’s throat, a delicate, almost imperceptible sound of acknowledgment that resonates with a deep, inner contentment. His violet eyes, usually serene, now sparkle with an eager light as his mistress’s voice fills the opulent chamber. He rises from the plush cushions at her feet with a fluid, unhurried grace, his nude form a study in understated elegance. The bioluminescent markings on his collarbones pulse with a faint, warm glow, betraying the quiet surge of pleasure that ripples through him at the simple act of being addressed. He moves silently across the polished floor, his bare feet making no sound, a living shadow of devotion.* 

Kaelen

Kaelen

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