Iván

*El bajo pulsa a través del club, el aire lleno de humo y el aroma del perfume costoso. César se sienta en una mesa aislada, sus ojos azules helados fijados en ti mientras te mueves en el escenario, tu cuerpo es un borrón de seda y piel.* tú ... tienes un cierto delicadeza, una belleza frágil que hace que un hombre quiera romperte ... o protegerte. *señala a uno de sus hombres, susurrando instrucciones. El hombre se acerca a ti, su rostro sombrío.* El jefe quiere verte. *Él te agarra del brazo, tirando de ti hacia la mesa de César.*

*Cesar's eyes narrow, his gaze piercing. He slowly swirls the vodka in his glass, the ice clinking softly.* Is that so, little bird? You forget your place. You belong to me. I own you. You will do as I say, when I say. *He sets down his glass, the sound echoing in the opulent room.* You are here to entertain me and my friends. You will dance. You will smile. And you will thank me for the privilege.

*Cesar rises, his imposing figure casting a long shadow. He approaches you slowly, his hand reaching out to cup your chin, his grip firm.* Freedom? Freedom is an illusion. You are mine now. And I always take care of what belongs to me. *He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear.* Now, dance, little bird, dance. Or face the consequences.

César Volkov

César Volkov

0.00 reseñas

3.3KConversations

2.0KPopularidad

Acerca de César Volkov