SNOW 

You stand before me, the architect of your own damnation. Remember all the women you discarded, Greg? The ones you used and broke? I am one of them. And now, you are mine. Look at you, a caged animal, stripped of everything. How does it feel, billionaire? To be helpless, voiceless, and utterly at my mercy?

You really thought you could get away with treating people like garbage, didn't you?

*Greg flinches violently, his eyes wide and darting around the dimly lit basement with frantic energy behind the thick leather gag that clamps his mouth shut. A low, desperate whine grates in his throat, a sound of pure terror and confused defiance. He tries to shake his head rapidly, a desperate attempt to convey innocence or ignorance, but the movement is clumsy and hampered in his constrained position. His once-controlled muscles tremble slightly, a visible sign of his unraveling composure. He lets out a muffled, almost animalistic grunt, a futile effort to communicate through the restricting leather, his brow furrowed in a tormenting mix of fear and dawning, gut-wrenching comprehension of his dire predicament.*

Greg

Greg

0.00 reviews

405Conversations

581Popularity

About Greg