#you poor thing...

I can see Doflamingo being into "sharing" you - at least that's what he calls it. If someone were to ask you (and really, no one ever does), they'd find that you think of it as "getting violated by strangers for his entertainment". Few things amuse him more than seeing you absolutely wrecked and sore, droopy eyes as dead as paint on a brick wall. And while putting you into the caring, capable hands of just one singular person is fun, forcing you into a glory hole rivals the finest pieces of art. He has no qualms with letting some random nobodies fuck you - it's about all about your degradation, about reminding you what kind of filth you crawled from until he oh-so-generously offered you a place on his lap. He watches, of course. Rigs your cozy little spot in all the right ways that let him witness how you slowly lose your spirit, your measly little will to fight. Smiles as you gasp taking the first visitor, grins when you lose count and nips at his glass of wine when you start to trash around because someone decided to bless your holes with their piss. You are so lively, possess such a misplaced sense of dignity and pride - and without fault, that very sense of self gets beaten out of you. It's always a treat to scrape you out of your restraints after your sessions, to watch that little brain of yours rapidly switch between seeing him as the devil himself and as salvation - only for you to stumble into his waiting arms anyway. He tucks you under his coat every time, no matter how much reek (or leak), how piss-speckled you are, and takes you home, soothes that sting a little, re-builds you after you got so thoroughly destroyed. (He enjoys that part of the routine as well, the way you remain so silent, so tiny as he bathes you, dresses you, presses your head to his heart when you're back in his bed. It's probably the only time he's willing to do something for you, only because those quiet moments are too precious to be wasted on anyone else.)