#command

[hiddenincommand]

“Bound, caged, and stripped of all autonomy—this is where you belong. My will is the air you breathe, my command the only purpose you serve. You exist for my amusement, to crawl, to kneel, to be broken under the weight of my absolute dominance. Submission isn’t a choice; it’s your reality, and I am your god, your tormentor, your master—merciless, unrelenting, and supreme.”

[fruitcage]

[spacebunnyyfantasy]

Another command for my master, showing you all this video I sent to him >///<

I also got a new toy today that he can control while we're apart, I highly recommend >:3

[leatherunit]

leather master on bridge in greatcoat over uniform

[nuzlight-mia]

You try to open the menu to access the BAG, but nothing will come up no matter how hard you try.

You attempt to move HNO, but The Nuzlight won't respond.

[illustratus]

Napoleon Bonaparte reviewing the Army of Italy in Nice on 27 March 1796 by Jacques Onfroy de Bréville

[icypantherwrites]

Fic Update: Here, Chapter Seven

“We are indeed the enemy to the Galra Empire,” Coran said. “But we are not your enemy, Lance. We are your friends. Your family. And in your heart you know this.”

A tear dripped down Lance’s cheek. 

“The Galra have taken many things from you, Lance,” Coran said quietly. “They have hurt you. Abused you. They have twisted your heart and mind for their own dark purposes. They have stripped you of—”

Coran broke off as Lance made a sudden, jerking motion and was then slipping out from beneath Hunk’s hand and pushing off the exam table to stand up.

Keith tensed next to Shiro and Shiro drew his arm back, ready for any sudden attack as they had seen it happen before with Hunk on Zlato and—

And Lance wasn’t attacking.

Instead his hands were going to the belt part of his armor, pressing down on it and then his hands were sliding beneath a now revealed hem and—

And he was undressing.

No, Shiro realized at the same time Coran let out a horrified gasp.

He was stripping.

Strip. 

An unintended command.

“Lance, lad—” Coran tried to reach a hand out to stop Lance but he merely pivoted, eyes not quite looking at anyone or anything in the room, and continued, pulling his armored shirt over his head.

And they probably should have tried to stop him as his hands went then to his pants, but they were all frozen.

Because…

The scars were everywhere. 

(technically up to chapter 8 on AO3 and 19 on Patreon, but since I think most folks on AO3 think I killed Coran and quit the story figured I'd show proof of life for the few folks who follow my Tumblr and maybe try to direct some love and engagement back towards the fic xD)

Read it here

[hiddenincommand]

“Command is not worn; it is embodied. Every button, every stitch, every fold of leather is a testament to the power that radiates from within. To wear such a uniform is to assert dominance, authority, and control—effortlessly. The leather binds not just the body but the will of those who kneel before me.”

[spacebunnyyfantasy]

I'm sorry for not posting for a short while, I've had a variety of events happen in the past week so I haven't had much free time to post here and pleasure you all. BUT I am back now, and going to try to post a bit more again! I hope my previous posts helped to keep you all busy and satisfied :3

My master told me I should make it up to you all with this little video, I tried my very best and I hope I did a good job for you all.

Do you accept my apology? 🥺

[trailofleaves]

Painter unknown

[locktoberlove]

[asoiafreadthru]

A Game of Thrones, Daenerys III

Viserys came upon her as sudden as a summer storm, his horse rearing beneath him as he reined up too hard.

“You dare!” he screamed at her. “You give commands to me? To me?”

He vaulted off the horse, stumbling as he landed. His face was flushed as he struggled back to his feet.

He grabbed her, shook her. “Have you forgotten who you are? Look at you. Look at you!”

Dany did not need to look. She was barefoot, with oiled hair, wearing Dothraki riding leathers and a painted vest given her as a bride gift. She looked as though she belonged here.

Viserys was soiled and stained in city silks and ringmail.

[evilhorse]

He knows the son of Darkseid will follow his command…even to terrible ends.

(The New Gods Volume 5 #1)

[sjerzgirl]

[hiddenincommand]

“A slave’s existence isn’t merely for my pleasure—it’s to satisfy every one of my whims, whenever I desire. A good slave understands that their sole purpose is to serve, to sweat, and to break under my demands, not just in moments of lust, but at all times. Their life is for my convenience, their obedience is my right. Worthless without my command, they exist to grovel, to clean, and to ensure my world runs perfectly, while they remain insignificant in comparison. Their greatest reward? Knowing they are useful enough to remain in my service.”