Would You Not Be So Glad?

[Trigger Warning: Torture and Abuse. Read at your own discretion.] 

Bradley walked out of his chair, bending down right beside it with one hand on his hips and the other on the cupboard on his desk, one of his legs leaning toward the desk while the other straightened, leaning to the back. He ran his hand inside the cabinet and took a rope out. 

"I would have to ask someone to fetch weights, yeah?" Bradley muttered to himself, then looked up at the soon-to-be condemned. "What kind of a maniac would keep weights in his drawers?" 

As if ropes, nails, hammers, and whips were normal to be kept inside. 

"Actually," Bradley had a change of mind as he stared at the rope before putting it back inside, shutting the cupboard with his knee. "Ropes are outdated. I'll ask for chains instead." 

Mikhail's expression dropped, and his eyes widened in shock. He had already chosen the worst possible punishment, and now Bradley was even modifying it.