<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/bUvpHLC.jpg)</div><strong>Name:  Stephen Downing (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13137161#msg13137161)</strong><br/><br/><strong>CLIENT</strong><br/><br/><strong>Situation:</strong>Making a very daring request from a formidable partner<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Snogflog,<em>Closed</em><br/><br/><strong>Content Warning:</strong><em>Bondage</em><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/>As Snogflog left, Stephen turned his attention back to the room. He'd noticed the gash on her hip had already closed up, and that was sparking some new thoughts. He started looking around the room, and found something very interesting, indeed.<br/><br/>By the time she'd returned, he'd figured out how it worked - not that it was particularly difficult, given the relatively medieval design. He blinked at the raw meat on the tray, and headed over to where she was. "Not exactly what I was expecting," he said, smiling. "Now, here's what we're going to do. We're both going to eat some of that... sashimi, I guess," he said strongly, "then I'm going to put this on you, and we'll move on from there." He held up a thick pair of steel and leather handcuffs. It was easy to see that it was intended as a torture device - the interior had dull spikes protruding that would put uncomfortable pressure on the wearer's wrists.<br/><br/>With that, he picked up a fork, speared one of the smaller hunks of what looked like well-tenderized and seasoned beef, and took a bite. It was better than he expected, and his eyebrows shot up appreciatively. His other hand stroked Snogflog's hip as he murmured, "My compliments to the chef," between bites. It had been years since he'd had any real meat - it had gotten scarce and extremely expensive almost two decades prior, and most "meaty" foods he'd had were either tofu, mushrooms, or entirely synthetic material. He tried to avoid the latter.