tofi's trail

He's sinking, quite literally. The weights fastened to him are heavy, the rod he's sinking onto unrelenting. The noose around his neck is yet still heavier, though it rests loose like a morbid necklace. It's a threat, or a promise, or a wish, unlike the rest, which is very much in effect.

Even after having Milo sliced up so much that his body barely resembles that of a human's any more, leaving him covered in nothing but scarring and pain, she isn't letting him simply die. And by God, does Milo want to die. Because what else can a bag of flesh so utterly broken even wish for but escape through dying?

Alice has ordered the contraption specially for him. A web of metal, locking him in place in the entrance hall. A sign of welcome, that's all that Milo is, now. A cunt filled with a vibrating dildo that never stop, an ass used so frequently that it gapes wide even when empty. Milo has stopped crying...he thinks. His face, though only partially scarred to keep him recognisable, has grown completely numb. He's a station for relief, bodily fluids dripping from him and into a grate beneath the contraption he's been welded into.

He's probably going to die here, and the only thing he can do is hope it will happen soon.

Tied Down