textualhealing: (197)
Jeffrey Tobias Winger ([personal profile] textualhealing) wrote in [community profile] thelockbox 2016-03-11 11:38 pm (UTC)

Me? I'm not-- [As Lucifer steps in, the temptation to get away is strong. Running sounds like a great idea, a really fine choice for survival, but this room doesn't have any noticeable entrance or exits, so how does he run when there's no where to escape to?

Instead of running, he takes a single step back with a leg, shifting his weight back onto it in some vague hope that few inches of distance may somehow discourage the approach. It doesn't. But it's not the hand at his throat that draws his attention, but the sudden, snug fit of something looped around his neck like a collar. He brings his own hand up to feel it, as if not quite believing it's real, so fixated on it that it takes a few more seconds for him to register a chill against his skin as if he's...

His other hand is quick to cup himself, eyebrows lifting at the mention of humiliation, of dogs, of the fact he's standing there in nothing but a collar in a room with no doors or windows.]


Okay! Point made. It's gonna take time, I get that. I'll... I'll help. We find another puppy or whatever and we train it. I'll train it. However long it takes. [Desperation would be a pretty accurate description of his tone right now.]

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