[A promise that sinks into his gut like an anchor, affixed to the craving for that outcome. He wants to be ruined. He can play the part, allowing Cy to handle him back into that bent-over position pliantly only because he knows what's coming next — he recalls their conversation. That slap contrasts obscenely against the gentle wipe of a thumb through tears, tasting salt on his lips, tasting himself when he swallows by reflex.
They had discussed the pain of this act. Sasuke sucks in air, pretending fear where there is only a hot bed of anticipation at the nudge it takes to pull the plug a little out from the rim of his hole. Then he feels the stiff, unyielding probe of the wooden brush handle — and he gasps, acting out the protest as if he doesn't want to feel it sink in and stretch him beyond his limits, as if it terrifies him.]
I can't. [His arm fights the rope, strategically keeping hips still so that it does not dislodge the threat of the brush alongside the silicone plug.] I can't. It won't fit. Don't, please.
[Begging is not below his role — however he knows Cy won't stop, doesn't want him to stop, wants to feel it forced inside of him instead.]
no subject
They had discussed the pain of this act. Sasuke sucks in air, pretending fear where there is only a hot bed of anticipation at the nudge it takes to pull the plug a little out from the rim of his hole. Then he feels the stiff, unyielding probe of the wooden brush handle — and he gasps, acting out the protest as if he doesn't want to feel it sink in and stretch him beyond his limits, as if it terrifies him.]
I can't. [His arm fights the rope, strategically keeping hips still so that it does not dislodge the threat of the brush alongside the silicone plug.] I can't. It won't fit. Don't, please.
[Begging is not below his role — however he knows Cy won't stop, doesn't want him to stop, wants to feel it forced inside of him instead.]