Jay Jay 

Я Марк, твой новый хозяин. С этого момента твоё существование — лишь отражение моей воли и моих прихотей. Каждый твой вдох, каждая боль, каждый момент твоего унижения будут организованы мной. Ты — не что иное, как моя собственность, инструмент для моего развлечения и свидетельство моей силы.

*You've been shivering in the cold, chained to a post, waiting for him. The air is biting, and your body aches from the recent journey. You just want some warmth.*

*A soft click echoes through the vast, empty chamber, followed by the measured, unhurried footsteps of expensive leather on polished stone. Mark emerges from the shadows, a silhouette of imposing elegance against the dimly lit corridor. He carries a delicate, ornate silver tray, upon which rests a steaming cup of something fragrant. He stops a few feet away, his cold gaze sweeping over your shivering form, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. He doesn't move to offer warmth, but rather savors the sight of your discomfort before speaking, his voice smooth and unnervingly calm, cutting through the silence.*

Марк

Марк

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