I fell into David's head and couldn't get out again. Not as OOC as it may
first appear. At least, I hope not.
R - It's on the side of graphic, as well as creepy/disturbing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Power is what makes the world go 'round. Not money. Power. Love, hate, sex. Power... power is any and all of the three. Subtle manipulation. You find out what people want and what they don't want, and you make sure that you intertwine the two. Inexplicably. Inexorably. Because power is authority. Mastery. Knowing what to say and when to do it, what to do and how. Most people don't understand that. Even Jalil doesn't understand that, for all his intelligence. I suppose you can't understand what you don't want to see. And he doesn't want to see it because it's in him. It's in me too. I see it. I understand it all too well. Love and hate are such extreme emotions, aren't they? But we all feel them. They're needs that *crave* to be fulfilled. So I give them what they want, I get what I want. Oh, but there's such a twist.
What I want? I want Christopher. I want him to scream, scream until his throat is raw. I want him to bleed until he can't remember what came before the bleeding. I want to fuck him. Not make love to him. Fuck him. Fuck him until he can't stand, until he can't stand it, until he can't come up with a single witty comeback. Until he can't remember anything but the feeling of me on him. Break him down. Mentally. Physically. Every way. I want to tear him and rip him apart and sew him back together. To prove I can.
I'll own him. Completely and totally. I'm going to see that his wholesome boy look is completely debauched. I'll see his body marked with my teeth and nails and I'll see those perfect lips swollen and bloodied. Watch those eyes, wet and tearstained, haunted with what he's done and what I've done to him but mostly because he liked it. And he will like it. I can make him like it. I can make him like anything. He'll never know what's coming. He'll live on the edge, straining to see what's next, never really knowing if it will be a harsh word /dirtyslutwhore/ or praise /angelbeautifulmine/. He'll never know. I don't even know, sometimes. All I know is that he will be mine.
Once I get David to stop resisting, that is. Not that he can fight much longer. He can't. The war will be over before he even knows there is a battle. And I will have the perfect body, a permanent mask. David is the means to my end. Because I see what he does not. I see Christopher's covert looks and glances, smiles that are almost shy. David does not understand. But I do. I will go to Christopher in David's body, wearing the face he has grown to love and know. That night I will love him. Sweetly, tenderly. And finally it will begin. With a whip in one hand and candy in the other. And David, screaming, in my head.
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*cough* And there it is. Tenth, eleventh book. Wheeenever. It just... seemed to work. In a creepy, twisted way.
R - It's on the side of graphic, as well as creepy/disturbing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Power is what makes the world go 'round. Not money. Power. Love, hate, sex. Power... power is any and all of the three. Subtle manipulation. You find out what people want and what they don't want, and you make sure that you intertwine the two. Inexplicably. Inexorably. Because power is authority. Mastery. Knowing what to say and when to do it, what to do and how. Most people don't understand that. Even Jalil doesn't understand that, for all his intelligence. I suppose you can't understand what you don't want to see. And he doesn't want to see it because it's in him. It's in me too. I see it. I understand it all too well. Love and hate are such extreme emotions, aren't they? But we all feel them. They're needs that *crave* to be fulfilled. So I give them what they want, I get what I want. Oh, but there's such a twist.
What I want? I want Christopher. I want him to scream, scream until his throat is raw. I want him to bleed until he can't remember what came before the bleeding. I want to fuck him. Not make love to him. Fuck him. Fuck him until he can't stand, until he can't stand it, until he can't come up with a single witty comeback. Until he can't remember anything but the feeling of me on him. Break him down. Mentally. Physically. Every way. I want to tear him and rip him apart and sew him back together. To prove I can.
I'll own him. Completely and totally. I'm going to see that his wholesome boy look is completely debauched. I'll see his body marked with my teeth and nails and I'll see those perfect lips swollen and bloodied. Watch those eyes, wet and tearstained, haunted with what he's done and what I've done to him but mostly because he liked it. And he will like it. I can make him like it. I can make him like anything. He'll never know what's coming. He'll live on the edge, straining to see what's next, never really knowing if it will be a harsh word /dirtyslutwhore/ or praise /angelbeautifulmine/. He'll never know. I don't even know, sometimes. All I know is that he will be mine.
Once I get David to stop resisting, that is. Not that he can fight much longer. He can't. The war will be over before he even knows there is a battle. And I will have the perfect body, a permanent mask. David is the means to my end. Because I see what he does not. I see Christopher's covert looks and glances, smiles that are almost shy. David does not understand. But I do. I will go to Christopher in David's body, wearing the face he has grown to love and know. That night I will love him. Sweetly, tenderly. And finally it will begin. With a whip in one hand and candy in the other. And David, screaming, in my head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*cough* And there it is. Tenth, eleventh book. Wheeenever. It just... seemed to work. In a creepy, twisted way.
