T. M. Chris
Text says "you're sewing me?" "I'm lacing you."

Tribute

He caught Dalin’s eye and grinned, putting enough menace into his smile to have Dalin looking apprehensive. Good. Dalin ought to be apprehensive. Tonight was going to be fun. As soon as Atalanta got rid of these straight-laced ass-lickers, the real party could begin.

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A ping pong paddle resting on a surface

Pledging Allegiance

Last year the paddling would’ve been administered by his very own boyfriend, Vadim. But then last year he wouldn’t have had to act out to get what he needed. Vadim had happily administered punishments in his room nearly every single night—intimate over-the-knee spankings, sharp swats with a ruler, an occasional session with the belt or whatever other implement Vadim happened to come across.

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A fiery scene with a shadowed male figure, a demon in the background, and the text "One Man's Hell"

One Man’s Hell

The Devil surveyed the man in front of him: slim, short, blond, powerlessly naked against the looming bulk he’d assumed for purposes of intimidation, but not intimidated. The man–Gavriel, his paperwork said–stood strong but not defiant with his hands clasped behind his back and his head down, sneaking little peeks[…]

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Bare-chested man on bed holding handcuffs

He fastens the cuffs …

He fastens the cuffs around my wrists, right one first. I’m right handed, so when my right hand is immobilized I feel immediately restricted, then doubly restricted when the left is immobilized too. He always does the right one first, whether we’re standing or lying, in bed or on the[…]

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