Toby O’Connor stands rigid on metal bars, his dark hair damp against his muscular chest where a jagged tattoo bites into his skin, the black collar with spikes digging into his collarbone as he bends forward, one arm raised like a challenge. His clean-shaven jaw tightens as he squats, the black undergarment barely containing the weight of his body, hands gripping the bars or his own head in poses that strain every muscle. The spikes press into his flesh with every shift, marking him as he holds each stance, unflinching, controlled, the only movement the flex of his arms or the slow drag of his breath.
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