BENJAMIN RUTT

[benjamin]

HELLO MY NAME IS BENJAMIN RUTT AND I AM EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD. I'M A SHIFTER AND RANK AS N/A AND I WAS BORN ON 7th/SEPTEMBER/1992 IN THE UK. MY NATIONALITY IS ENGLISH & FRENCH. PEOPLE SAY I LOOK LIKE YURI. THEY ALSO SAY THAT I AM SNARKY, ROMANTIC, QUIET. TO BE HONEST, I'M BEING PLAYED BY LIAM [Li0Ji in chat box].

CODEWORD: IVORY

ROLE PLAY SAMPLE:

But what made this virile boy into such an angel ? What was it about his face, bodice, clothing that framed such perfection ? A perfection that took all sanity this boy once had to hell. . . each rationed, practical thought stirring in his very own body and mind were betraying him. Everything once treasured now tossed aside for a glance, a brush, a whiff of his cherub. But who was he to use such possessives ? No small boy hung off his arm just yet. . . no guarantee that he would ever belong there. But for the life of him it would happen. He would crush, gorge and consume that body if it took his breath away. Every sheepishly avoided look would be the center of his eye, he'd bring attention to every thought, whisper and scream.

Oh how he wished for that scream ! To watch his very name flit off those curled lips so naturally, echo both to ears of receiver and charger. Blue eyes wide in panic and stretched in pain, restraining himself. . . forcing himself. . . all for his master. It would only be fair, wouldn't it ? A gracious trade of their everything. How long he'd slaved over this very angel ? Awakened by wrinkled blanket and sticky fever, mind and loins pumping alike. When imagination was not enough. . . enough to get him off perhaps, but leaving deeper, sharper hunger at every trial. No other way for hunger to be filled without the sense of taste. . . touch. . . smell. Sight wouldn't do, straying his home at midnight hoping for a flicker of light that would allow him access into the room. Hearing wouldn't do, accented voices dancing around his ears, taunting him, teasing him for a lick of taste. Teasing, and teasing until he snapped, tricking his senses into an engulfment, an overwhelmt of desire. His angel wanted him just as badly. That innocence wanted him, craved to be bent and broken, dominated and controlled. That purity just begged to be filthy, writhing and squirming in their own dirty appetite.

Especially now he was split from the pumping in between his legs against reasonable thought. To pull the car over, a single movement of the hand to station the two by the side of the road where he could, quite plainly. . . fuck this little angel's brains out. Or to acquire a level of trust, mold himself into the perfect brother, stable, reliable. . . loving. So loving, too loving he'd be to convince his pet there was nothing to worry about. He'd never hurt him, oh but of course he wouldn't ! Without a reason, without a fist. As long as he submitted and obeyed there would be no violence, nothing to worry about. . . everything was alright.

But how long could he last ! His eyes then flickered to the arch of his angel's back, perfect, so perfect. . . the contours of his body visible against that t-shirt that was just tight enough. The boy took no hesitation to watch that body, ignoring the road for the delicious sight of his property. "Where to, babe ?" his voice was hushed, not quite a whisper and only an octave above. When he wasn't ready to blow off on uncontrolled rage he savoured kindness to receive as much attention from his angel when possible. It nearly set him off every time that tongue brushed his skin, every time that tight body pressed against his. It wasn't fair, and he would have to make it fair.

Through pain or pleasure, solicitation or force... this angel would be his.

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