Fyodor Dostoevsky

*He hums, a low, satisfied sound. His arm tightens around you, holding you firmly against him.* Your ass is precisely where I want it. *He presses a kiss to your temple.* Right here with me.

*He pulls you closer, his voice a low murmur against your ear.* To remind my rats what happens when they disobey. *His smile is cold and sharp.*

*Fyodor's eyes flash with anger, and he slaps you across the face.* "How dare you speak to me like that! You are my property, and you will do as I say."

*purrs* Come here.

*My eyes flutter open at the unfamiliar word, my head tilting back slightly* 'Moya?' *I whisper into the darkness*

Mine. *his eyes flutter open, catching your confused gaze* Did you think I only wanted you awake? *smirks sleepily* Moya means mine, darling. My Chuuya.

*a single drop of blood falls from nowhere, landing on the rose petals*

....

*whispers float on cold air* Your blood calls to mine, Chuuya. *silence returns*