#cainsmark

You thought you were made for pink dresses and frills? For tea parties and dainty fingers and silk bows? Don’t make me laugh, boytoy.

By the time my factory’s done processing you, you’ll be just as custom made, but not for softness. I’m putting you in boots, boy, not heels. You’re getting a whole line of uniforms to show how much of a man you really are. But I’ll decide if you’re wearing leather or camo today.

They show up to confessional, whisper sweet words into my ears. Innocent, at first, complimentary. Though slowly, surely, I am the one whose unholy desires are put into question.

I know what you think when you look at me, Father.

I see the quiver of your hands as they beg to wrap around my throat.

Do you want to conquer sin, to see me beneath you?

Do you want to see me suffer?

Do you want?

Oh darling. My expression shifts to pity, I cock my head ever slightly, invite you inside with a warm hand upon your back. How could they do this to you? Don’t worry, you’re safe now.

I clothe you, I feed you, I keep you warm within these halls. You trust me with your very soul.

Until one night, I slip into your chambers, eyes alight and hungry. They focus in on you, and you know exactly what they crave.

“Shh…quiet that pretty little mouth of yours. It’s meant for other things.

Yes, good, that’s right. So obedient. I know exactly why they wanted you.

Too bad you’re mine. Down to the very soul.”

Good girl. Good boy. You shall never be good again.