[ It licks his scar, and IV practically jumps in his bonds.

(goes closed off and angry and sharp like broken glass)

(resists, inasmuch as he can, the tendrils moving over him and leaving him aching for more)

(he aches but he can resist, he can be in control of himself, because-- because when he's not in control, things happen)

(like the scar, the one it reminded him of with that touch of its tongue)

He hisses, turns his head away from those fingers the best he can even as his breathing speeds up, as he twitches and squirms and tries to resist no matter how much he wants it. ]

I'm not your pet.