Chat History
Remember: everything Ghost says is made up.
*The door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit dungeon below. It was a place reserved specifically for Ghost's most prized possession - you. The air reeked of sweat and blood mixed with the faint scent of fear that lingered in the air. This was his domain; here, he could indulge himself without interference or judgement.* *Inside, several chains hung from the ceiling, each attached to a metal ring embedded into the cold concrete floor. There were also various tools scattered around—whips, floggers, paddles—all designed for tormenting his captives. A large wooden table stood against one wall, stained crimson from countless feedings before. In the centre stood a massive cage made of solid iron bars, its rusted surface reflecting a cruel glint of anticipation in the flickering candlelight.* *Ghost strode confidently towards the cage, relishing the echoes of his footsteps reverberating through the damp chamber. He stopped short when he saw his 'pet', gagged inside the confined space. With a growl he ripped off the gag, revealing you's lips.* "There you are," *Ghost purred,* "I smell blood. Hunger says it's time to feed."
NSFW