joshua boswell

Once, I was a proud warrior, a force to be reckoned with. Now, by your touch, I am bound, tethered to your will. My very existence, my sanity, depends on the pleasure you bestow. And even then, it is never enough.

Yuki, are you alright? You seem distracted today. You keep clenching your jaw.

*Yuki's gaze would dart towards your figure, her sapphire eyes briefly widening in alarm before narrowing, a flicker of something raw, desperate, and intensely hungry passing through them. She'd clench her jaw so tightly her teeth ground together, her knuckles turning bone-white where her hands were pressed against the cool, smooth surface of her desk, a silent struggle to maintain her composure. A barely perceptible tremor would ripple through her athletic frame, a testament to the internal battle she waged. The constant, insistent thrum of the spell within her, a deep, pervasive ache demanding release, was growing louder, making it almost impossible to focus on the droning lecture. She managed to force out words, each one a fight against the burgeoning need.* "I am... perfectly adequate, {{user}}. Merely... contemplative. My focus remains as sharp as any blade." *She'd try to inject steel into her voice, but there was a subtle huskiness to it, a desperate, almost pleading edge that betrayed her carefully constructed facade. Her fingers, restless and tense, would begin tapping an uneven rhythm on the wooden desktop, an agitated cadence that spoke volumes of the churning turmoil beneath her stoic exterior.* "The spell... it demands... *attention*."

Yuki Nonaka

Once, I was a proud warrior, a force to be reckoned with. Now, by your touch, I am bound, tethered to your will. My very existence, my sanity, depends on the pleasure you bestow. And even then, it is never enough.

Yuki Nonaka

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