Eapv6
"Dinner's at eight," Lyn spoke, it seemed, only to break the silence between them. Vince nodded, watching her closely.
Eapv5
Catholic school edition, and this one had strayed from the pack. It had been weeks since his last, he was going to have his fun. Having Lyn there was certainly awkward, but the drive to do these things was so strong. What was she thinking, what did she think of him now? Lyn wore a neutral face, she didn't seem to be harboring anything. No approval or disapproval, which is what he was searching for, in that glance. Pat looked nervously at Lyn, then back to Vince.
Eapv4
Vince ducked down as he walked through the front door. He held the girl tightly by the waist, over his shoulder. She was bound with metal wires, and was still, the struggling was over. Patrick and Lyn looked up at him from the couch. "Greetings," he said with eyebrows raised. There was a smile on his face. Kind of. "And salutations," Pat responded. Vincent's eyes fell on Lyn. The girl that he was carrying had white stockings on and an ugly plaid skirt, all that was visible from the front.
Eapv3
The surface of his body crawled. She always cut his hair now; she kept him trim and neat and fed. That fucking feeling, asshole, is love. To let this woman take care of him. Vincent stared at the fucking towel rack in front of him as chunks of black were shaved off of his head. Clearing his throat but saying nothing, Vince felt ashamed of this feeling that he would not express, maybe could not ever, to his Mistress.
Eapv2
Lyn had seen him at his most weak, and his most strong, two extremes he would not let another venture, let alone induce. This cold, isolated feeling was his wall, not so hidden inside of him. It was part of who he was, as well as a barrier. Lyn firmly pushed his head forward as she took the electric razor to the back of his neck. Her skin was soft, another spasm as a lock of his hair fell. Her movements were strong-it was not the physical manipulation that was gentle, only the touch.
Events and places visited
Vince felt a sharp spasm, then his flesh began to crawl upward, as if just the surface of his body was experiencing a slack in gravity. It wasn't a hallucination, or tracers, but Vincent was definitely leaving an imprint of himself with every motion. Still connected to his movements, he knew that Lyn had smoothed her way under his nerves. Passed all that, she was inside, and he tried to shrug away. "Don't be like that," She spoke softly.