bitches love me for my ability to experience animal-like unconditional affection
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Your F/O straps you into the chair, tightening the restraints on your wrists and ankles.
They stroke their fingers up the flesh of your throat and over your cheek. They cup your chin and look down at you.
They put the knife to your throat, and smile. “Scream loud for me, precious. I love you so much.”
No pain you could inflict would be worse than starving for your touch.
through the glass of a bottle, all is green and bent…
