artofbabalon:

These aren’t pretty little chains. These are heavy. Cold. These would drag on the collar and chafe the skin. These aren’t chains that you could move aside, forget about. These chains are constant. They say I am owned.

This is my type of chain.

I always say that I don’t want you to break my skin. And I still don’t, by the way.

But there’s always that small voice inside my head telling me how your property would be so happy if you marked what was yours… Permanently.

(Source: deviouslyapt, via descentintodepravity)