（ he draws until the first stick of wax can only be used to light the second, this one a dark blue. other words, slut and cum dumpster are scrawled out elegantly along his spine. sometimes the waxes melt together, blending into a purple sheen. his left hand holds the wax aloft even as the right reaches for the hairbrush, fucking it into him anew in a way he knows will hurt, will add an overlay of abuse to his body and all those points where pain is like a diamond filament catching the first light of awareness.
in a low murmur — ）
Say you're mine. No one else is allowed to touch you unless I say.
no subject
in a low murmur — ）
Say you're mine. No one else is allowed to touch you unless I say.