#binding restraint

Holding the dragon down in a cruel, sadistic net capable of unspeakable pain before approaching and shushing it. I show the great beast I have no wish to harm it by laying down my weapons and speaking softly until it stops thrashing and calms under my hand—then, after at least partially convincing it I've got its best interests in mind, I show it the new bridle I'm going to put it in.

A rumble emanates from its throat upon spotting the equipment, and I try my best to remain unmoved as it snaps at me until it settles down enough for me to begin slipping its new bridle around its snout, rewarding it with lulling coos and gentle reassurances.

Quelling its dismay with soft words while guiding the bit between those sharp teeth, covering up its excess eyesight with the blinders—everything to make sure it can become the well-behaved, excellent creature proper grooming and training could afford it.

While I move on to secure the collar, girth and tug, I notice how the beast's hulking and powerful body, though still trembling and seething in misery and confusion, has ceased thrashing; a sign both that it has given in and learned its resistance means nothing, and that it still remains distressed.

Behind all that pain, all that despair, I can feel all the power packed into this majestic creature's mighty body and ready to explode from its haunches into a magnificent display of lithe acrobatics and vicious savagery and everything in between. The steel-strong frame and powerful muscles, supple beneath my claw, desire freedom and power they may have never known with no one to guide them in the wild.

But once I make it mine and train it, the beast will never need to know weakness or uncertainty at the hands of the savage world again. I will make this dragon into my masterpiece; its body will be an extension of mine. Its body will be all mine to do what I please with, and it will thank me for it.

As I finish my work, I release the dragon out of the cruel net restricting it and into a more empowering binding in the form of my guidance. Already its motions seem so much more disciplined, as it submits to my lead, even if behind each movement there is a cowering tremble for fear of the pain it has seen I can inflict.

woah… what a treat,,,

I can't decide if this would be better if I knew what was coming or not; to be comfy in my binding and then surprised at being roast against my will while I can't fight back—or to anticipate it, knowing that this is a preparation to kobold being simmered to perfection.

even if I'm alone in the frightening heat while I'm being roast, I've got the binds that remind me I'm being watched over and taken care of… I can't run away; it's been decided for me that this is what I'm best used for, and all I can do is lie tied up in the heat until my meat is tender, warm, and cooked all the way through, a kobold ready to be torn into, prepared, and served…