[Manjoume has indeed noticed both of those things... it didn't really help with keeping him from having impure thoughts.
Initially, Manjoume starts to hold out his arm, but then Camazotz suddenly reaches for his chin, tilting his head to provide the perfect angle for... oh. For a split second he considers that maybe the other did intuit his desire to find out what it would be like from a different spot than usual, and then there's the momentary second of fear upon feeling teeth against his neck, a sensation he hasn't felt before.
But he would dare not deny his God what he seeks, and obediently holds still as instructed. Even if it is only just deep enough for the blood to rise to meet the gods lips, there's the initial pain of being bitten that has him grip the broom still in his hands so tightly he thinks it might splinter under his fingers. But he tries to take some pride in the fact that he hasn't dropped it to let it clatter on the floor yet, or collapsed entirely like some delicate flower, or even screamed in response to it, instead just a loud, sharp intake of air at the feeling before gritting his teeth to try to refrain from crying out further.
(Or god forbid, making any noise that might get interpreted as moaning or begging the like...)
Camazotz had called him soft a moment ago, but he'd like to think that he's not so soft that he can't handle something like this too.]
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Initially, Manjoume starts to hold out his arm, but then Camazotz suddenly reaches for his chin, tilting his head to provide the perfect angle for... oh. For a split second he considers that maybe the other did intuit his desire to find out what it would be like from a different spot than usual, and then there's the momentary second of fear upon feeling teeth against his neck, a sensation he hasn't felt before.
But he would dare not deny his God what he seeks, and obediently holds still as instructed. Even if it is only just deep enough for the blood to rise to meet the gods lips, there's the initial pain of being bitten that has him grip the broom still in his hands so tightly he thinks it might splinter under his fingers. But he tries to take some pride in the fact that he hasn't dropped it to let it clatter on the floor yet, or collapsed entirely like some delicate flower, or even screamed in response to it, instead just a loud, sharp intake of air at the feeling before gritting his teeth to try to refrain from crying out further.
(Or god forbid, making any noise that might get interpreted as moaning or begging the like...)
Camazotz had called him soft a moment ago, but he'd like to think that he's not so soft that he can't handle something like this too.]