I recall him. Not just in busy moments when I need to slow down the rush of Time but others fail to calm my curiosity.
His face turned the brightest red and then crimson, as he strained against his bounds, pleading for freedom. His mouth saying one thing but his body pushing against mine.
I gave him captivity, caged of my cock, buried deep into him.
That was his freedom, his wide open fields full of grass and sunshine.
The place I created for him, at the end of my hands.
He bruised so nicely. I would pretend he was my rainbow, shining with color. redorangeyellowbluegreenpurple.
His eyes went from the clear grey of the river to the dark cloudy storms that we used to run and hide from, those warm summer evenings.
He would go from a snarling beast, ready to devour me whole, to a toy sitting on my shelf, needing repair. Tiger tiger, turned into a star, burning so bright. I wish I may, I wish I might. Make you weep this night.
That was what I turned him into, as I pushed him to the edge of his sanity.
That is what I gave him, his pot of gold at the end of the rainbow that I adored so.
He gave me my taste for blonde subs with grey eyes. Skin that flushes easily, eyes that cannot hide the pain racing through that same skin.
No one has emerged from the dark to erase his prints, his presence, on the slate of my mind.
No one.
