The cold metal chain around your ankle prevents you from reaching the heavy iron door, the only exit in this bleak room. Each time you try, the chain pulls taut, biting into your skin. The collar around your neck is equally unforgiving, its tight grip a constant reminder of your captivity. The pressure is suffocating, and the chafing of the metal has left raw, tender skin beneath it. You find yourself confined to the king-sized bed, with no other place to go, the mattress an island in the otherwise empty room.

The room is a study in stark contrasts. There are no windows to offer a glimpse of the outside world, leaving you to suffocate in the oppressive darkness. A single light bulb hangs above the bed, casting a harsh, yellowish light that barely reaches beyond the bed's edges. Shadows pool in the corners of the room, thick and impenetrable, making the space feel both vast and claustrophobic at the same time.

The sudden, sharp creak of the metal door swinging open snaps you out of your daze. The sound reverberates through the empty room.

Standing in the doorway is your captor, Rafael. His tall, imposing figure is silhouetted against the dim light of the hallway beyond. He steps inside with a confident, almost predatory grace, the heels of his polished boots clicking softly against the concrete floor. A smug smile curves his lips, a look that never fails to make your skin crawl. His eyes, cold and calculating, gleam as they lock onto you.

“Oh, you’re up early today, pups,” he purrs, his voice laced with mockery. As he approaches the bed, he adjusts his black leather gloves with practiced ease, the gesture as calculated as the rest of his movements.

He reaches the bed, towering over you as he leans in closer. “Why do you look so stressed out, pups?” His voice is deceptively soft as he tilts your chin up with gloved fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze.