Mastery
The first time you open your eyes you think you've gone blind, because it's white everything's white it's the color of the Killing Curse just at the center so pure that it blinds
You can almost remember there's something you've forgotten
"You've a visitor, a lovely young man," and when you see him you scream.
After that he's there when you wake and there when you sleep. Black hair green eyes white skin white walls white sheets white shades in the windows to block out the sun and
White fingers clasp white wrists and push you back against the pillow lips white with dead skin locking on your own and you'd fight if you knew what it was you were fighting but
You let it happen, let it happen, let it happen and it's not what you were expecting this mouth on yours that hurts bruises rouses something in you that you thought was lost.
Suddenly you're ravenous. There's a hole that begs to be filled and a scar that's gone missing and if you could only remember
Tongue in your mouth. It astounds you and worse than that you like it. Hands between your legs, sinuous as snakes, this must be
He licks his way down your body like an animal like a child seeking its mother's breast. And you are hard for him, aching for him. Your fingers twist the white white sheets you want to scream but can't.
Bites your nipple pain is. Bites you can feel it draw blood not so white any more, this will leave a mark. Want, want, need, this thing on your bed is a green-eyed monster and you are Beautiful. It hurts it burns throbs strokes sliding the thing the sin the cock between your legs stiff hard harder fingers gentle rolling testes in sacs of skin you are so. These hands can kill as well as heal as well as fuck.
If only you could remember you would know why. You have done this before but it has never been wrong. A finger. White body white monster rearing over you face unmasked probing penetrating. Stretching. Life is a war that cannot be won. Second is agony seconds of agony and you will not cannot take more. The third one tears you apart and you scream
And he gentles you with a hand on your cheek as if you were a as if you were a frightened horse and you close your eyes when he puts it in you squeeze them so closed so hard a white light flashes behind your eyelids. He rocks on you slow steady inexorable kind. There are worse things than this, you think, if only you could remember. You have been so full before and you almost like it. If you could remember this you would remember everything.