Back to the game

The silence that fills your apartment is starting to get awkward. Instead of getting even deeper into this dangerous territory you try to get back to a more familiar situation.

"Maybe we should figure out what happens to your cleric?"

"OK, Dungeon Master," Sandra smiles as she stresses the title deliberately, apparently willing to let you off the hook.

You begin by setting the scene, reminding Sandra that her character is currently locked in a holding cell in the special part of the Overlord's dungeon set aside for the holding and **** of innocent young women, she retrieves her notebook from the pillow and is rummaging in her oversized dice bag. "Give me the bad news, what happens to Rae as she waits in her cell?" Before you can even start though Sandra surprises you again.

"Wait, Stephen." Even after Sandra's texts last night, the drawings in her book and the conversation about Sandra's kinks, you still plan on keeping this run under tight control, but Sandra has other plans. She carefully collects her notebook and dice and climbs from the comfort of the couch to kneel on the carpeted floor by your side. From her bag she has pulled out what looks like a dog chain and holds the stainless-steel length up for you to see.

"What do you think?" She looks up at you mischievously, "this seems like a better place for me under the circumstances, don't you think?" While it is true that once in a while your players would have a small token that fit their character, you can't imagine any of them on their knees or pressing a chain into your hands. Sandra however had that theatrical nature and even if you hadn't seen her drawings, you should have anticipated something like this.

She looks up at you from her knees, wide-eyed and nervous before shrugging out of her jacket and lifting her bare arms for you to bind. There is something very exciting about wrapping a kneeling woman's wrists with coils of chain, and the smooth silver links look good wrapped around Sandra's slender wrists. The clip that would normally secure the dog clicks perfectly between the links holding the chain in place so it cannot slip off. It is a beautiful sight.

It's not like she's barely dressed like Rae is in her dungeon cell; in fact, her long skirt pools around her covering just about all her legs, but her the short-sleeved blouse exposes more of her arms and back than you've ever seen before and from above you can look down into the gap of her blouse. You loop the leather handgrip of the lead around the back of your chair leaving just enough slack for her to lower her arms under her chin. You'll have to loosen the chain more when it comes time for her to roll the dice, but for now most of the run is narration anyways.

"Rae is left kneeling like this in the dimly lit cell." You tell Sandra setting the mood for the run, "the only light comes from a flickering oil lamp that sits near the guard table that lights up the hard faces of the two men in charge of the night-time dungeon."

"Are they watching me?" The pretty sophomore's voice is low but clear. "Or are they used to having naked women in their care?"

"They're watching all-right." You tell her, and then inspired by the dice spilled out on the floor by Sandra's knees you have a moment of inspiration. "They're playing some sort of dice game, and judging by how they keep leering at her, Rae gets the distinct impression that she is the prize the men are gambling over."

"Oh, Saint Cuthbert protect me." Sandra pulls weakly against the chains, as she explains what her cleric is thinking. "Rae prays softly as she kneels on the damp floor of the cell, but in her heart, she knows that her Lawful Good deity watches over only those who are worthy. She's afraid she might no longer deserve his protection." Normally it is your job as a DM to remind players of their character's alignment, but Sandra is being harsher on herself than you'd ever be. You consider trying to assure her that Saint Cuthbert is an all-forgiving god, but the supplement you gave her when she first chose her cleric's deity made it pretty clear that the church founder was known for his absolute commitment Law as well as Goodness.

Instead, you turn your attention back to the game. "The largest of the guards, a swarthy-skinned man with scars on his face and neck, lets out a roar of triumph and pushes from the table so fast that his stool rolls away." You see Sandra shrink even lower onto her knees as you describe the guard. "He brings the lantern with him as he unlocks your cell door; his muscular torso is so large it just barely fits through the opening." Sandra lets out a soft gasp and tugs softly at her bound hands. "He hangs the lantern from the bars close enough that he can see every inch of Rae's barely covered body." There is no doubt that this is exactly what Sandra had in mind, even if you hadn't seen her sketches, the texts from last night are still fresh in your memory.

"On your feet, wench." You growl in your best crude henchman voice, "get up slow and pretty like, an' I gonna go nice and easy wit choo." Dropping the phony accent, you give Sandra a chance to decide what her character would do. "Does Rae get up like he demands, or try something else?"