You manage to slip a pair of fingers between your neck and the collar adorning it, prying the leather away from your skin. The chain the collar's attached to jingles, such an insignificant sound, but one person takes notice. He sits on a throne, lord of all he can see, and has been your master since your abduction.
You now shrink beneath his gaze, as you did then, and your hand drops to your side, collar quickly returning to its tight embrace. He reaches down and takes hold of the chain, pulling it and so you closer to him. The alternative is choking so you move, your back pressing against the throne, and you cringe when his hand rests atop your head, strokes your lush hair.
You are submissive as a parade of desperate individuals present themselves to your master, just eye candy at his feet, until you feel a slackening of the chain.
"Dance."
His voice is a rumble, intense power bottled up within his mortal frame, and you rise, padding into the middle of the chamber. You feel the eyes of everyone on you, both pride and embarrassment suffuse your essence, and you dance.
It is erotic, sensual, and you lose yourself to the primal music that guides your movements. A sudden silence brings you to a halt, an arm outstretched in wanton desire, and you draw it back as your master stands. He moves towards you, you take a step back, and something ugly flashes across his face. Before you can blink the pistol at his hip is in his hands and a loud bang echoes throughout the room. You drop heavily to your knees, neat little hole in your forehead, and remain like that for a second before tipping forward. Your master, your murderer, stands over your corpse, and then kneels to put a hand on your ass while looking at his minions.
"Do with her what you wish."
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