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“Holy shit, his throat feels so good when you do that,” Rafael moaned, adjusting his grip on the head that currently held his cock so he could fuck the throat even harder. “Do it again.”
Zac grinned, hefting the cattle prod and bringing it up to the purple red balls swinging between the legs of their victim.
The twin prongs made contact with the already tortured skin, and with a squeal of pain, the boy trapped between them bucked and writhed. His skin limbs flailed as the electricity coursed through his muscles, making them spasm uncontrollably, and with a hoot and a holler, Zac ducked to avoid a foot.
Rafael groaned, head dropping back as he yanked the boy’s head down all the way onto his cock. A nose, hooked and a little crooked from being broken one too many times and healed wrong, was mashed into the tangle of his pubes, and the boy sputtered helplessly, tears and snot streaming down his face.
“Fuck,” Rafael growled, keeping one hand fisted in the boy’s hand and wrapping his other around his throat, squeezing to get just a bit more tightness around himself.
The boy sputtered, finally managing to bring his hands up to push against Rafael’s massive thighs, and his body convulsed as oxygen to his brain was cut off for too long. With a massive groan, Rafael came down his throat, taking a moment to ride the waves of pleasure before yanking the boy off his cock and letting him crumple to the ground.
Zac smirked at his quivering form, kicking open his legs and jabbing the cattle prod against his balls. His finger hovered on the trigger. His own cock dangled out of the fly of his pants, large enough that, even hard, it couldn’t stand completely upright.
A drop of precum dangled from the swollen mushroom head, half enveloped with a wrinkle of foreskin.
“Well, bitch?” Zac said. “Get up. I still need to fuck you.”
The boy’s skinny chest quivered, shuddering as he struggled to catch his breath. Foamy, cloudy spit bubbled at the corners of his mouth, and his crooked limbs twitched. The only noise he made was a ragged wheezing, gurgling whenever his spit slid too far down his throat.
“Fucking useless,” Zac growled and squeezed the trigger.
The electricity discharged into the boy’s balls, and he howled in pain, clawing at the floor around him. His back arched, and with a crack, his head snapped back against the floor, before his body slumped limp. His worbling scream trailed off with a pathetic whimper, and then he scrambled up, managing to roll himself over.
With a wheeze and a cough, he vomited. There was no food in his stomach, but a meager amount of cum that he had just swallowed splattered onto the floor in front of him.
With a mindless groan, he bent over, tongue already out as he prepared to clean it up.
Zac slapped the cattle prod under his chin, snapped his head up, and then he grabbed a fistful of the boy’s hair to drag him to his cock.
“I said I still need to cum,” he growled, plunging his cock down the boy’s throat and fucking him brutally. “Fucking selfish. Only thinking of yourself-- fuck --and how much, ah , how much you want to eat cum.”
The boy went limp, bouncing lifelessly as his eyes rolled back. His gag reflex, reset from throwing up so recently, was battered back down, but he still heaved on every third stroke, on the verge of vomiting again.
Zac didn’t care. He kept his hands wrapped around the boy’s head as he used him as roughly as he would a fleshlight. When he finally reached his own orgasm, he dragged the boy down, holding him as close to his hips as possible.
The boy’s tongue lashed around his balls as he squealed and gurgled. As he tried to protest, the ropes of Zac’s cum pumped just as much into his stomach as it did into his lungs, and when Zac finally let him pull away, the boy was hacking.
Huge, wet coughs wracked his body, and he curled in on himself, face red and straining as cum and spit and strings of stomach slime dripped from his outstretched tongue to the floor.
To his credit, he managed not to throw up again.
It took him several minutes to recover enough to drag himself back to his previous mess, and then, without the interruption of Rafael or Zac, he bent over and obediently began to lick up the puddle of cum, returning it to where it was supposed to be--in his stomach.
Zac snorted, watching him with a sadistic gleam in his eye, clearly almost impressed.
“Fuck, you really did train him well,” he said.
A third man, lounging off to the side and only watching the activities, smiled graciously. He was fully clothed, unlike Zac or Rafael, his suit pristine and a bit formal for the dingy atmosphere of the mostly grey warehouse. Still, he held himself with a grace that made it obvious that he was above both Rafael and Zac in the small social circle that was present.
He watched the boy without reacting, impossible to tell if he was hard or not, enjoying the scene or not.
He considered the nearly broken body of the boy like someone considering art, cocking his head to get a different angle as if he were searching for a bigger meaning. The boy was oblivious to the stares, too focused on cleaning up his mess before he earned a punishment.
“He is wonderful, isn’t he?” the third man mused, and the boy’s body shuddered as if registering the compliment. “You know we’ve been working on his lung capacity?”
Rafael finished the can of beer he had been guzzling from, crumpling the can and tossing it halfheartedly at the boy’s quivering form. The boy flinched when it hit his head but otherwise didn’t react.
“Oh, shit?” Rafael said, looking at the boy as if imagining all the training that the man was referencing.
The man nodded, smiling more to himself as Rafael and Zac began to circle the boy with renewed interest.
“I’d recommend the ropes,” the man said, gesturing to one of the side tables piled high with toys and torture devices, tape and bondage, anything and everything to fill the imagination.
Rafael smirked, grabbing a loop of hemp rope and quickly forming a noose. He wrapped the free end around his palm twice before fisting it and stooping into a crouch in front of the boy. He dangled the loop of rope in front of the boy’s face, giving him a moment to focus his fuzzy, tearful eyes and register what it was.
“Hm?” Rafael teased, letting the noose swing back and forth. “Master says you can hold your breath for a really long time. Is that true?”
The boy whimpered, licking his lips to try to clean them of the spit and cum still dripping down his face.
“I-I can try,” he said in a voice so quiet the men almost didn’t hear him.
Zac threw his head back in an uproarous laugh, slapping his thigh before leaning back on one of the side tables.
“Try, he says,” he laughed. “ Try ?!” He glared at the boy, a cruel smile curved across his face. “You don’t have that option, whore. You either do as we say, or you die .”
Fresh tears flooded the boy’s eyes and he sobbed, panicked eyes darting between Rafael, Zac, and the loop of rope.
“I-I can!” he said, swallowing hard. One of his shaky hands came up to brush the bruising that already circled his throat, something that hadn’t quite healed since his training. “I mean, Masters can do whatever they want. I-I am just a thing to play with.”
“Fuck, yeah you are,” Rafael growled, lurching forward and grabbing a fistful of the boy’s hair.
He dragged him to his feet, slinging the noose around his throat and tightening it. The boy’s hands were immediately flying up, clawing at the collar of rope that was now looped around his neck. His struggling was nothing to Rafael’s strength, and Rafael dragged him easily over to a more open section of the warehouse, the reinforced steel beams open and bare overhead.
“Stand, bitch.”
The order was accompanied with a slap to the boy’s face, hard enough that he almost crumpled, but he managed to obey. He wobbled, unsteady, as Rafael slung the other end of the rope up, managing to toss it over one of the beams first try, and he caught the free end, pulling the slack taut.
The boy gasped, stumbling a couple steps as the rope dragged him into place. He hadn’t managed to squeeze any of his fingers inside the noose, but his fingers scrabbled uselessly on the thick coil.
Rafael towered over him, smirking as he tugged idly on his end of the rope, toying with the way he could make the boy dance on his tiptoes, face already starting to flush.
The boy barely came up to his chest, skinny and underfed compared to his bulky, muscular frame. He had to crane his neck to look up at Rafael’s face, and the rope around his neck meant he couldn’t retreat without losing air.
“I’m gonna fuck you,” Rafael said, gripping his cock and giving it a shake. It slapped against the boy’s stomach, almost up between his tits, and Rafael dragged the leaking tip across one of the boy’s nipples, making him shudder. “We just need you at the right height.”
The boy shuddered, eyes rolling back in his head as the rope pulled taut and he was dragged up onto his tiptoes.
His face was flushing a deep red already, mouth opening and closing like a dumb fish as he struggled to breath. He danced on his toes, skinny stomach sucked in tight so that his ribs flared out as he fought for every sip of oxygen.
Rafael’s cock still rested on the boy’s sternum, the few inches of height nowhere near enough to get his hole close to it. Rafael didn’t seem too bothered by it, just wrapped the rope around his hand again and tensed his arm as he dragged the boy higher.
The boy retched loudly as his feet left the grimy floor of the warehouse, and his legs flailed wildly. His eyes bulged, unseeing passed Rafael’s triumphant smirk, and his hands clawed at the noose around his neck. He tore raw, red lines into the skin of his neck and chest as scratched himself while doing nothing to dislodge the tightening noose.
Rafael snorted a laugh. “What’s the matter?” he teased, reaching up to pinch the lashing tip of the boy’s tongue and tug it out of his mouth, making him moan and drool over himself. “So useless that you can’t even struggle properly? Zac, come bind his hands. If he really didn’t want this, he would put up a better fight.”
Zac looked offended at being ordered around, but he dutifully scooped up a pair of handcuffs as well as a spreader bar.
The boy was making wet, panicked whimpers as he approached, bulging eyes locking onto him and watching in horror as he circled him. It was too easy to grab his skinny wrists and yank them behind his back, locking them tight. The spreader bar went between his legs, and Zac rested a heavy boot on the center, stretching the boy tight between the rope and the bar.
“Pe-esh!” the boy gurgled, dry heaving as Rafael dragged the rope up a couple more inches. “P-pe-esh!”
Another retch, and spit and stomach slime bubbled out of his mouth and down his chin. It dripped onto the floor in the same way his tears did, creating a messy puddle that his feet skidded in, no longer able to find purchase. His arms twitched, rattling the cuffs as he instinctively fought to break free.
“Come on, bitch,” Rafael said, winding the rope around his hand and preparing to drag the boy higher. “You can do better than that.”
The boy gurgled, body twisting and coiling. A long stream of precum dangled from the tip of his cock cage, swinging between his knees, and if Zac and Rafael were careful, they could get it to stretch all the way to the ground.
With another wracking cough, the boy finally found his voice again, the rope around his neck inching upwards until it got to a point where Zac could no longer keep his boot on the bar of the spreader.
And then the boy was finally airborne.
Fully supported by his neck and the rope, wheezing and spinning like a poorly designed music box.
“ Guh -red,” he sputtered. His chest heaved, his stomach fighting in and out as if just saying the word took every bit of strength he had left.
Both Rafael and Zac paused.
The boy danced, swinging on the rope between them, face turning darker and darker as his eyes grew more and more vacant. A bubble of spit cloudy with cum expanded on one of his nostrils, popping before it got too large and dribbling into his mouth.
“Seriously?” Zac said, planting his boot on the spreader bar, bouncing it up and down and making the boy sputter and gag with each downward pull.
The boy’s eyes were rolling, head yanked to the side as the noose pulled him tight. The slight jerk of his chin could have been a nod, but his wheezing had spit frothing around the corners of his mouth.
“Sers-ly,” he managed to choke out, the words slurring on his swollen tongue. “ Guh , ah, -ed-ed- ed .”
“Red, huh?” Rafael said.
Zac lifted his boot off the bar, gripping the boy’s hips to lift him up so that the noose wasn’t as tight and he could get a sip of oxygen.
The boy keened gratefully, gulping down air and already babbling his thanks as he slumped back into Zac’s arms. The red in his face immediately started to fade, and the noose around his neck slumped enough to show off the angry red rope burn that was already starting to set in, as well as the purple bruising starting to show through.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” the boy blubbered, sobbing as he finally managed to get enough air into his lungs. “S-Sirs. Ma-Master. Please. Red. Red. Red.” Tears streamed down his cheeks.
“As red as your face was,” Zac crooned, adjusting his grip on the boy’s hips and pressing their faces together, licking a wide strip up the boy’s cheek. “Poor thing. Was that your limit? You don’t want to ride Raf’s cock?”
He slapped the boy’s ass, making him sob and squirm. He couldn’t struggle too much if he didn’t want to drop from Zac’s arms, but the pain still made him flinch.
“Ngh, no,” the boy gasped, grimacing when Rafael gripped both of his nipples tightly and used them to drag him higher. It helped loosen the rope, but the pain made his face twist up. “ Hah , s-sorry, Sirs. Love cock. Want-- ah! --want your cock! Please. Red. Red, please .”
“Honestly, I’m just surprised he made it this far,” Zac said, pressing a knee up between the boy’s legs to grind against the sensitive bulge of his balls and caged cock.
“Yeah,” Rafael agreed, letting go of the boy’s tits and tightening his grip on the rope. “What a surprise.”
With a giant wrench, he dragged the rope down, pulling the boy out of Zac’s grip and up into the air. With a squeal of alarm, the boy bucked, thrashing as he lost his chance to take one last gulp of air before his entire body weight swung from his neck. He shrieked like a broken animal, the cry of dismay and panic broke off as he swung forward right into Rafael’s fist.
The blow to his stomach sent him spinning back towards Zac, who only laughed and slapped his ass. The back and forth game didn’t last long, but the boy was in tears by the end of it, hanging limply as his chest quivered and Rafael continued to pull him higher.
Finally--finally--his hole was level with Rafael’s straining cock, and the man used the boy’s balls to drag him into place before letting the rope drop. With a gurgle of surprise, the boy impaled himself, his own body weight dragging him three-fourths of the way down the cock.
Rafael gripped his hips and yanked him down the rest of the way, his balls slapping against the boy’s ass as the handcuffs rattled.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” Rafael groaned, just grinding his cock as deep as he could into the boy’s hole. “I don’t know how you do it.”
The boy couldn’t respond, wheezing and coughing and struggling to breathe. Rafael used the rope to drag him up and down on his cock, using his own thrusts for a little momentum until the boy was bouncing between him and the noose. Each wet slap of Rafael’s hips colliding with the boy’s ass was marked by an equally wet wretch as the boy was pulled back up by his neck.
It took painful minutes before Rafael managed to cum a second time.
Zac watched the scene, stripping his own cock as he watched the boy’s twisted and nearly broken form, his own breathing getting ragged and unstable as he neared his own orgasm.
Rafael let the boy drop onto his cock, slamming home one last time and cumming deep inside his guts.
The boy wasn’t even conscious enough to acknowledge it, head dropping back and limp as his thighs twitched. A sheen of precum painted Rafael’s stomach, matting his pubes, left over from every time the boy’s cock cage slapped against his stomach.
With one last heave on the rope, Rafael dragged the boy up and off his cock, letting his lifeless body spin in the air a couple more seconds before letting the rope fly.
The boy made no effort to catch himself as his feet hit the floor first and then his knees, he gasped deeply, drawing in a breath, but it wasn’t enough to stop his body from pitching forward as he folded in on himself.
He lay crumpled, ignored in the aftermath of a satisfying orgasm, his body trembling as it struggled to recover.
Zac moaned, managing to stagger the few steps between them, awkwardly half crouching to blow his load across the boy’s back. A few ropes of his cum splattered up and into his hair, and the boy didn’t react, just let out a ragged cough.
“Fuck,” Rafael said, grabbing a cloth and wiping down his cock, tossing it onto the boy’s prone form before turning to address the third man who had watched the entire scene without comment. “He’s as good as always.”
The man smirked, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward in his seat. “Wonderful to hear,” he said, though his dark eyes were locked on the boy’s body. “It’s always nice to know that clients enjoy the results of his training.”
Zac was still recovering from his own orgasm, mopping sweat from his face as he stumbled to join the conversation. “I wouldn’t mind fisting him the next time we come ‘round,” he said, a hungry look in his eyes as he dried his hands off on his pants. “I’ll pay extra.”
Rafael scowled. “I don’t want him loose just so you can put your hand up his ass for ten minutes,” he said. “I still want to fuck him, and he’s good and tight how he is now.”
“Gentlemen,” the third man said, sweeping to his feet and stepping between them. “Getting him loose enough to fist while also making sure he’s tight enough to fuck is easy . By next week, I can have him taking two fists.” This was said to Zac, who licked his lips with a grin. “While still being the tightest hole your cock will ever feel.” This was to Rafael, who grunted but didn’t continue the argument.
“Whatever,” Rafael said, stuffing his cock back inside his pants. “Just as long as he can make me cum.”
Together, he and Zac turned towards the door, satisfied with their service and ready to head home and relax before sleep.
“Your bill will be invoiced to you,” the man called after them, keeping a customer service serene smile on his face until the door slammed shut behind the men, and he and the boy were finally alone.
Without a word, the man collected the ring of keys that rested on the table of toys, finding the ones that went to the handcuffs and spreader bar before walking over to the boy. He crouched, carefully undoing the bondage, before rolling the boy over and giving him a slap to wake him up.
The boy jerked back to himself with a broken whine, mumbling apologies as he struggled to push himself up and continue serving.
The man took that as a good sign and moved to put the toys in the bin that signaled that they needed to be cleaned.
“Aamir,” he called over his shoulder. “Fetch the corset. Steel-boned. The black one, please.”
He didn’t even have to look, smiling to himself when he heard a whimper of acknowledgement and then the wet drag of limbs over concrete as the boy pulled himself up to obey. The man finished giving the toys a quick wipe down before turning, easily finding Aamir were he was slumped in front of the coat hangers on the far side of the space, legs sprawled open as he struggled to get enough strength and momentum behind his tugging to pull the corset that had been requested off the hanger.
The man let him struggle, returning to his seat and watching with mild amusement as Aamir finally managed to get it down, keeping it carefully off the dirty floor as he began the slow crawl back towards his master.
“Good boy,” Master praised, accepting the garment from him and opening it up. He gestured for Aamir to turn, and the boy obeyed, only groaning a little with the stiff heavy fabric wrapped around his waist and ribs.
The first layer of lacing was easy, just tugging the two ends of the corset closer and preparing for the next few rounds of tightening. The second layer brought Aamir’s waist in a couple inches, prompting a pained moan as he leaned forward, a bit of spit trickling out of the corner of his mouth. The third layer, Master braced a foot against the base of Aamir’s spine, yanking the lacing back until Aamir was wheezing and shaking like a leaf in a windstorm.
“Almost there,” Master reassured, tying off the laces and then tightening the buckles on the top and bottom of the corset. These were each locked with a padlock, the keys going around Master’s neck. “Alright, you can turn around.”
Aamir obeyed, shuffling on his knees until he could look up at Master with his tear-streaked face. His waist was now pinched by several inches on each side, where two hands could almost span it before, they could wrap easily around it to touch thumbs to thumbs and fingertips to fingertips.
His throat was a mottled mess of purple and red. The fresh marks were layered over the older, yellowing ones, and by tomorrow, it would be a pretty sensitive necklace for Master to wrap his hands around. It would only take a touch to have Aamir wincing and whimpering. A collar would provide good motivation, yanking on a leash to show him just how painful simple correction could be.
Master could already see a bit of bruising forming around the top of the corset as well, just under Aamir’s tits, where the heavy fabric squeezed the flesh. He gave the boy a pat on the head, because it seemed like he needed some reassurance that his previous performance was good, before he undid the button of his pants and pulled out his cock.
Aamir whimpered, trembling at the sight of another throbbing length he would have to satisfy.
Master paused, raising an eyebrow.
“Do you have anything to say, Aamir?” he asked.
Aamir shivered, eyes darting up to his master’s face, down to his cock, and then down further to the floor. He licked his lips, his breath ragged in his lungs, and the pain in his throat made him wince.
“R-red, Master,” he whispered softly. “Please. Red.”
Master hummed, stroking his cock idly. He peeled back his foreskin, palming the head of his cock and twisting a tight circle. He moaned, gasping for a moment, and it was the first time he let himself show his own pleasure.
He pulled his hand away, a thin line of precum stretching between his palm and the head of his cock, and he studied it for a moment before breaking it and offering his hand to Aamir to clean.
Aamir jumped forward, gasping as the movement jostled his constricted ribs, and quickly began cleaning his master’s palm.
“Seriously?” Master asked.
Aamir didn’t answer immediately, taking his time to collect every drop of precum from Master’s hand and leave him clean and proper. Finally he sat back, panting a little as he struggled to breathe after the hanging and now wearing the corset.
“Y-yes, Master,” he said quietly. “Red. Um, seriously.”
Master grinned, reaching down to cradle Aamir’s chin and then pull him up to his cock.
Aamir grimaced as the fat mushroom head poked his lips and then dragged against his cheek when he didn’t open his mouth. And then Master slapped him, cracking his palm across his cheek hard enough that fresh tears pricked at his eyes and his mouth fell open.
He didn’t even get a chance to sob before Master was plunging his cock down his throat, battering past his gag reflex and coring out the way to his stomach. He was longer than Rafael had been, not quite as thick, but by the time Aamir’s nose was buried in the prickly, well-groomed bit of hair around his cock with his balls resting on his chin, the tip had pushed past his tonsils and bulged out his Adam’s apple.
Aamir gagged, eyes going wide, and he struggled.
Master gripped the back of his head, keeping him firmly in place as he stared down at him with a loving smile. He held him there until he was sure the tears in Aamir’s eyes were real and true before pulling back his hands and letting the boy rocket off his cock.
The chill of the warehouse air on the spit-soaked skin of his cock was enough to have Master moaning as well, already looking forward to returning it to the tight heat, where it belonged.
Aamir was retching again, heaving as the tight hold of the corset and the recent hanging gave his gag reflex a hair trigger, but Master didn’t give him too long to recover.
“Ah, ah,” he said, catching a handful of Aamir’s hair as the boy tried to drop away. “None of that.”
With a sob, Aamir let himself go limp, unable to find the strength or the oxygen as Master pulled him back to his cock and rested the head firmly on his tongue again.
“You know you aren’t allowed to say no to me,” Master said, shallowly thrusting into Aamir’s mouth and holding his cock at an angle he knew pressed against Aamir’s uvula.
Aamir trembled, chest quivering, as his body was once again deprived of air. He knew better than to push away from Master, his shaking hands resting on his thighs as his eyes rolled back.
“The clients,” Master said, pulling Aamir down a bit further, letting his cock slide into the wet clutch of his throat with a moan of pleasure. “You can say no to the clients.”
Aamir gurgled as a bubble of precum dripped directly into his stomach, and he twitched, dimly registering that he couldn’t even taste Master at this point, just feel the way his massive length stretched his jaw to the point of aching.
“You can safeword with them,” Master continued, holding himself in place and letting the spasming gagging of Aamir’s throat massage him. He smirked, managing a small laugh. “Doesn’t mean they’ll listen to you, but you’re allowed to with them.”
With a jerk, he pulled Aamir all the way down again, giving him a moment to adjust and smiling when he heard the wet sloppy whistling of the boy breathing through his nose. Master leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and pinning Aamir in place.
“You are not allowed to do that with me,” he said sternly, grabbing the crop he always kept on hand and holding it up so Aamir could see.
The boy’s wide, wet eyes locked onto the toy, and he whimpered.
“I see you’ve still got a couple lessons to learn,” Master said, snapping the crop down on the curve of Aamir’s ass, where it peaked out from the hem of the corset.
Aamir jumped, but any sound of pain he might have made was muffled by Master’s cock, wedged too deep inside his hole. So Master hit him again, alternating cheeks as he worked his way up to a rosey, red glow.
“This will be followed with the cane,” Master said, petting the hair away from Aamir’s eyes and then catching one of his tears on his thumb. He held it up to the light, considering it. “And then we’ll move on to bigger toy training. See if I can’t get a fist inside your tight little pussy by the end of the night. I intend to make good on that promise.”
Aamir moaned but could do nothing. Lack of oxygen made his eyes fuzzy and out of focus, pupils blown so wide that his eyes were almost black. He barely twitched at every crop hit, but Master would make sure he felt them.
“I wonder,” Master mused, gripping Aamir’s hair to keep him in place while he uncrossed his legs to correct the boy’s position.
He kicked his legs apart, making sure his balls dangled freely and in good range of the crop, before crossing his legs again and continuing his game. They were a dark red-purple, dangling limply underneath the cage locked around Aamir’s cock, not even trying to pull up despite the long strings of precum dangling from the tip.
“If I could train those pesky colors out of you,” Master said, tipping his head back as the crop connected with Aamir’s balls and his scream of pain traveled straight to Master’s cock. “Fuck, you really are a perfect toy. Almost ,” he moaned. “Just think, one or two electrodes attached to your balls and a couple sleepless nights. I’m sure you’ll forget what red even is.”
The next muffled scream had Master cumming, his cock pumping down Aamir’s throat and adding to the mess already in his stomach. He took a moment to just ride the waves of pleasure, taking his time to grind his hips against Aamir’s face and properly milk himself of every last drop.
“Unless,” Master said, finally recovering and staring down at the boy pinned to his crotch. He smiled. Aamir gurgled. “Unless someone asks you what the color of your ass is, or the color of your face when your choking on cock. Or the color of your balls after a good cropping session.”
Aamir moaned, eyes rolling back, and Master had no idea if it was a noise of pleasure or protest.
“I guess, I don’t need to take red away from you,” Master mused, shivering as Aamir continued to milk his sensitive cock, gently, lest he earn himself another punishment. “Just make it clear when it is important.”