[ his jaw clenches again. he hasn't seen for himself what traces of her damage may or may not remain (faint scars, nothing that won't heal with more time). all he knows is that it doesn't hurt anymore, and that's enough for him at this point. the scars don't matter. they'll disappear and then be written over with fresh ones, over and over. at least, that's how it feels.
it was hard to not flinch from her touch. it was unclear, even to himself, if that was because he was expecting more pain or if it was because of who she was in the first place. a mix of both, most likely.
he'd tried to keep it to that. the flinching escaped him, but he'd hoped he could keep himself otherwise blank-faced while she assessed him like a piece of meat. unfortunately, his composure crumbles when she grabs at his ass. the action mixed with the words leave him with a shocked and sour expression. ]
I'm not -- [ the "i'm not yours" argument felt more difficult to back up while wearing an actual slave collar. the evidence to the contrary was crumpling up in front of him. ] I'm not yours. [ he says it anyway. ] Don't do that.
no subject
it was hard to not flinch from her touch. it was unclear, even to himself, if that was because he was expecting more pain or if it was because of who she was in the first place. a mix of both, most likely.
he'd tried to keep it to that. the flinching escaped him, but he'd hoped he could keep himself otherwise blank-faced while she assessed him like a piece of meat. unfortunately, his composure crumbles when she grabs at his ass. the action mixed with the words leave him with a shocked and sour expression. ]
I'm not -- [ the "i'm not yours" argument felt more difficult to back up while wearing an actual slave collar. the evidence to the contrary was crumpling up in front of him. ] I'm not yours. [ he says it anyway. ] Don't do that.