inbox

[masticated]

WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK








USERNAME:
zombieboy

text ❖ audio ❖ video

( this inbox is a choose not to warn experience. read at your own risk. )

Comments

[rehandle]

If you'd rather not wait until morning, you can go to the square right now. I won't be there until after sun up, but I'll look kindly on the show of penitence.

[ If Saber's feeling stubborn enough for death by a thousand cuts, that's no skin off Stephen's back. ]

[masticated]

another joke huh

why do you think i'm gonna sit there and take it?

[rehandle]

There's no place here for people who won't

[masticated]

we'll see who does or doesn't have a place here soon enough

[rehandle]

Playing soothsayer, little butcher? That's cute. I'll add it to the list

[masticated]

fuck you and your list you're just making it worse for yourself

[rehandle]

Oh, I'm sorry. You were threatening me? I'll pay more attention next time.

Go to the square and kneel and wait or run to a priest and say you're very sorry. See if they can help you figure out what it is you need to atone for before I need to ask you again.

nsfw...😔

[masticated]

[blah blah he's not reading that blah]

you're used to having power aren't you

i'll tell you one thing
shadowheart isn't gonna love you more for trying this shit when she's too busy choking on my dick

and again...

[rehandle]

Probably not, no.
But if you won't kneel now, it can wait until we make her come for the fourth time in ten minutes and your knees give out.

nsfw links!

[masticated]

haha funny. "we"? but it isn't you is it? it's your fuckin boyfriend. bet you've got a scar from him too. how's that workin for you?

but yea you're right. she can't cum without him. but i can make her do a lotta other things.

[the first image is a blurred image of his fist in her hair, mouth around his dick and struggling to keep his length in. the next photo, sent maybe five or ten minutes later, has her on the mattress, linens soaked.]

hope you like the taste of my cum in your mouth. prick.

(audio message)

[rehandle]

[ There is a delay before what follows. This time, after a few attempts at tapping the place on the screen that will let him record a message, what comes through is his voice waiting to be played. He no longer cares if she hears it, if she knows. It only matters that Saber does, if ever curiosity or carelessness or overconfidence is enough to have him prize open the waiting and inevitable trap.

There is something in his voice and his words and their cadence that Saber might not know to notice but that Shadowheart, if she hears it, may not entirely recognise as his. Duty, bound as tightly to him as any of those he marked or was marked by and tightening with each spurn of his request, makes of him a vessel. Gives to him its gravity, its eerie calm.

His anger is no longer entirely his own, entirely for her. It is also for the Flock. ]

I will see you in the morning, in the square, on your knees. You will come to me to atone when I call for you to atone, or you will bleed, or you will bruise, or you will burn, and these wounds will make it known that you care little for the laws and customs of this place. The people will turn their backs on you as you have turned your back on them, and in time she and I and all of us will forget you were ever here.

[ And that's it for now. His phone finally falls from his hand, and he leaves it there on the ground and walks from the room. An order does not need an answer. He need not fumble to find out if one comes. ]