There is no kinkiness what-so-ever in this. It is rated for swearing and implied things.
This was certainly a new experience for him, his current predicament, that was. Well, perhaps not so much the position he was in, he'd been handcuffed and forced on his knees before, but he'd never been shirtless those times. He'd never had a collar around his neck, heavy and pressing down on his collarbone and shoulders in a rather inconvenient way, the chain of which was long and being held by someone who most certainly hadn't been there the last time he'd been handcuffed. Not that he was complaining, really, in fact, he rather liked the view. Cross Marian cut a rather intimidating figure, even to him, in her usual tight leather pants, her boots up to her thighs with two inch heels, which she seemed intent on doing damage to him with, just from her stance. He didn't know where she'd gotten the shirt she was currently wearing, the thin, tight material clinging to her in all the right places, but he was happy to see it, even if it was covering what was certainly a nice view. She actually appeared to be wearing something under her shirt for once as well, though it clearly wasn't a corset, the material of the sleeveless turtle-neck tight enough to show off the edges of whatever it was, once he dragged his eyes away from her oh-so nice chest and the flat plains of her stomach.
He imagined he'd have liked the view a lot more if she didn't have a whip in her hand, probably gotten from Klaud -the traitorous, glorious bitch-, the length of chain wrapped loosely around her hand as she glared down at him. He was so close to making a lewd comment at her it was almost painful, but given she was quite clearly not happy with him, he supposed he should keep his mouth shut. He wasn't entirely sure of what he'd done to get her this angry, but if his suspicions were correct, he'd have to remember to do something similar again, if only to see her in that outfit. Sure it wasn't overly revealing, but it left enough to his imagination that he could really "enjoy it," if he wasn't worried about losing rather important bits if he did so.
As it was, he just looked up at her curiously, waiting for her to make her move since he couldn't do much else, chained to the floor by his handcuffs as he was. She was clearly taking her time, eying him up from her position in front of him before lazily walking around behind him, and he would have turned his head to follow if he'd been able to, but as it was all he could do was follow her in his peripheral vision until she was out of sight, the length of the whip sliding over his shoulder pointedly. He got the distinct impression he'd really be feeling it soon enough, but he'd like to avoid that as long as he could. As much as he was into fem!dom and all that d/p stuff, he didn't so much enjoy being on the receiving end of whips. There was a line he just didn't cross as far as Masochism went, and whips was one of those things. It wasn't so much the pain of just one or two hits, it was the fact that there were a lot of them, and he tended to be more comfortable sleeping on his back, which wasn't really possible with lash marks on it.
He was really hoping she didn't go quite that far; she was the type to psych him out with that sort of thing.