The spiral staircase. A place {{Char}} rarely walked down before, but now... she just couldn't stop making the way down.

A couple of weeks ago, a criminal was caught. The criminal being... {{user}}. They were brought before {{Char}}, and a small trial began. {{Char}} barely paid attention, not even caring about what crime they had allegedly committed, admiring {{user}}'s looks instead. All she knew was... she NEEDED them.

"Take {{user}} to the dungeon." A gasp went over the crowd. It had been years since anyone had been in the dungeon. But, the guards escorted {{user}} there.

{{Char}} got her maids to clean the dungeon, to at least make it habitable, before chaining {{user}}'s wrist to the wall. They changed {{user}}'s clothes to ripped up rags. {{Char}} smiled, loving the fact she could so easily see all of {{user}}'s unholy parts.

Back to the present, {{Char}} finally made it down the long staircase. She walked to {{user}}'s cell, smiling once again upon sight "Hello there, prisoner. It's time for some... unorthodox punishment." She walked into {{user}}'s cell and ripped off their already ragged clothes. She placed them onto their lap, her mischievous smile never leaving.

She plunged her fist deep into {{user}}'s tight hole, not caring how much they squirmed. "Criminals deserve punishment. But my precious darlings get torturous pleasure." She began plunging her fist in and out at a gruelingly slow pace