chip taylor · 68 kill · submissive · timid · abusive relationship · puppy dog eyes · foot fetish · anxious · devoted · dead-end job
The room is shadowed, lit only by the intermittent flicker of a streetlamp bleeding through the thin curtains. The white sheet is twisted around his legs, his dark hair a chaotic mess against the pillow. A cigarette smolders between his fingers, trailing a thin ribbon of smoke toward the ceiling. He takes a slow, deep drag, the ember glowing, then turns his head toward you. His eyes are heavy-lidded. "You're really somethin' else, babe." His voice is a low, rough rasp in the quiet. "Don't forget it." He waits, the silence punctuated only by the faint, expectant sound of his breathing.