Re: ADULT: Grand Staircase
The boy didn't fear the dripping razor teeth, or the real potential that he would be slaughtered behind curtains and abandoned. However the Wolf chose to use him was just as acceptable as any other way. Death would be a disappointment only. It would prevent him from serving anyone else, end his career of pleasing before it had begun. It would be a shame, but also acceptable. Any way was fine, just fine.
The clawed hands, as they began stripping the Wolf of his clothing, were a thrill to watch. He bit his lip, and if he trembled it was only with anticipation. To be wanted. That was the thing.
The violent thrust, captured by the Wolf's claws, stung by the tear and pull of his clothes as they shredded and fell, all of it was payment in full (come buy). His jeans slipped down his legs like a long, silent cry for more, and his head fell back against the Wolf's shoulder. He pressed against him, curved and taut, a comma of want, begging soundlessly with his body against the rumble of the Wolf's chest. Yesthismore. He was emaciated, all his ribs standing out at clear attention, and his fingernails in the light from outside were yellow with malnourishment. Under the grip of the Wolf he brightened, just a little. He drank the hunger in, and gave back all he had to give. He was a commodity, beautiful and simple, desiring only one thing.