Long live the queen.

Pale features slightly illuminated by lit candle.
A slight glisten on the skin from heat and activity.
Porcelain wisps floating through the air from lit cigarette.
Cold steel on seated bare skin.
Surrounded by tools of both pain and pleasure.
A relaxed posture.

Like a diamond in the rough, I sat there.

Content within my space.

And then it dawned on me.
Perhaps I should check if he can still breathe.

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