Because he wants it--and Eggsy does too--things shift. Eggsy's still shackled to the wall, but now he's facing it, and there's a spreader bar between his ankles, keeping his legs spread just over shoulder length. Quentin takes a moment and runs his fingers, still in fine leather gloves, over the marks on Eggsy's back. He hadn't known they were there, but he sees them, which means that Eggsy is thinking about them, in the same way that all the pink stings and welts from Quentin's work exist in the VR because they both expect them to.
He traces the marks he didn't put there, digging into them slowly. Can Eggsy feel them, knowing that they're there? He supposes he must, but it's still fun to toy with him.
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Because he wants it--and Eggsy does too--things shift. Eggsy's still shackled to the wall, but now he's facing it, and there's a spreader bar between his ankles, keeping his legs spread just over shoulder length. Quentin takes a moment and runs his fingers, still in fine leather gloves, over the marks on Eggsy's back. He hadn't known they were there, but he sees them, which means that Eggsy is thinking about them, in the same way that all the pink stings and welts from Quentin's work exist in the VR because they both expect them to.
He traces the marks he didn't put there, digging into them slowly. Can Eggsy feel them, knowing that they're there? He supposes he must, but it's still fun to toy with him.
"What were you expecting the fun part to be?"