Bobo's control of others for years has been violence and aggression. There is something so utterly amazing about that control coming with control of its own. That it's about pleasure and not damage done. There is something so primal in this, and yet it brings him to a place where he feels stronger in himself than he has in years. Than perhaps he has ever felt in his life.
Bobo chuckles, and it's a deep sound, darker than his motions because he may be learning about himself but he's not entirely changed either.
"Oh I think you should use words," he teases, even as he tightens the ropes about Bull's broad chest, making that harder as he makes those demands. "I think you should ask."
no subject
Bobo chuckles, and it's a deep sound, darker than his motions because he may be learning about himself but he's not entirely changed either.
"Oh I think you should use words," he teases, even as he tightens the ropes about Bull's broad chest, making that harder as he makes those demands. "I think you should ask."