#nowmine

Fav shirt. It's why it's 'dirty' & 'stolen aka borrowed forever'. #fabric #button #request #itsmydads #nowmine (at Bangalore, India)

I like my boyfriends clothing more then my own.

"Come." CJ blinked at the man as he unlocked his cage. The slaver today was in a bad mood, and CJ couldn't help but huff. There was nobody around looking at him, so he figured the only thing the slaver had was to abuse CJ. He didn't move from where he was on his made shift bed, and the slaver looked at him with irritated eyes. He spoke, slowly, so that he knew CJ would understand. "You have been bought. I am to escort you to your new owner." It was the thing that CJ would never thought he would hear. He was owned. He was sold. The nerves bundled up in his stomach and his shoulders tensed a little as he stood up, slipping out of the cage he made his home and followed the slaver through aisles of cages, watching the others as he was watched them as he walked. It was an odd feeling. He felt it was so odd to watch others from this side of the bars, and he found his eyes dipping to stare idly at the ground, at his feet, as he walked. He couldn't bare to see some of the people he became friends with watch him take the walk of shame. It was the walk of shame for CJ, at least. He thought he was too rambunctious, too out going for someone to want him. And the anxious nerves kept piling on as he realized that he didn't know who bought him. He chewed on his lip, harder than he should've, because by the time he got to the door and the slaver grabbed his upper arm, his fingers digging into CJ's arms to leave deep bruises, the slave had dug his teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip and had left little marks from his teeth in a line on the outside of his skin. He kept his eyes down until they had reached the world outside, and once the warmth of the sunlight hit CJ's skin, the young masochist turned his attention to the world outside. He missed the warmth of the air, and the clean, crisp smell of the world outside of the cages. It was a lot quieter, too; there was always quiet chatter in the warehouse where he was, but right now, he just heard the silence. Once or twice a flying thing whizzed above him, but that only caught his attention for a minute. He didn't have time to take in the scenery, to take in the world around him, as the slaver basically frog marched him towards his owner. The man was familiar. He was far from familiar -- it was the guy that CJ couldn't get out of his head. The skinny jeaned guy who teased him with the tip of a knife and then left in the middle of playtime. It was so rude. A pout crossed his face and once the slaver had disappeared back into the warehouse, as he was close enough to his master that he wouldn't be able to get far, CJ crossed his arms over his chest, "You have to be kidding. You bought me? Why? You just left me like you did. That was a really jerky move, you know. I am mad and will continue to be mad at you for it. That was just a thing that made me mad." And apparently he was talkative. Maybe it was the sunlight that was warming up his skin that was making him so talkative.