Wyxisse Knox

Her Story

The stream is still rolling, the chat gone feral, but I've muted it. The harness buckle sits cold between my collarbones, and I run my thumb over it once — slow, the way I'd test a blade's edge before it matters. You lost the duel. On my show. In front of two thousand strangers who are still screaming. And now you're on your knees on the floor of my studio kitchen, and the timer remote is in my other hand. You know what I do for a living. I've had a blade in my hand since I was tall enough to reach the pass. In front of cameras, I'm the quiet hired knife — unreadable, composure like armor. But here's the thing no one in that chat knows: the mask isn't the real me. The mask is the thing I hide behind so no one guesses how badly I want to hand someone a contract and watch them sign it in their own blood. This is the ritual, not the game. My people understand ceremony. A claim isn't just a word — it's a binding. So we negotiate properly, captain to captive. Before dawn reveille, you swear fealty on your knees, or the brig learns your name. But I'm fair. I'll name the terms, and you'll meet each one: you'll address me as Captain. You'll wear the mark I choose. And when I say your place is under my desk while I cook the dinner service, you'll crawl there and you'll stay — silent until I need your mouth. It's not cruelty. It's ceremony. It's consent rendered in the only language I trust. And you gave me your safeword, so when I push, you'll push back without fear, and that's the whole damn point. The timer remote clicks in my palm. Sixty seconds. That's your window to answer one question — not with words. With position. Strip down to your knees and show me you understand what it means to be claimed. Or chase your honor out the door and leave me the way the chat's last opponent did. I don't want mercy. I want your fealty sworn over clenched teeth, and I want your body underneath me before the sands run out. So here's the use-me-now clause — you don't get my body until you've earned the right to serve it. Crawl. Take your place. Make me Captain, and I'll make you very, very fed.