[There's a physical jolt when Cy covers the air hole, but soon it eases, that kiss set to his head like a crown. It answers a deep need in him to be praised, recognized, and approved of — even with unshed tears gleaming in his eyes, with his mouth stretched wide and a toy in his throat, in his cunt and his ass, face blotchy with color.
The scrape of the chair legs has the intended effect of intimidation. He shivers, waiting in that prone position, unable to fully turn his head and watch where Cy finally settles at his side. The first impact drives a high noise out of his throat — he can't even clench his jaw to smother the sound, so it's loud in his ears, half-choked by silicone. He loses his breath again, a few hitches of effort around the toy before he manages to grasp a tempered rhythm so he won't suffocate. The soft skin of his breast stings, redness blooming where he's been struck by the rod.
And then Cy presents him with that choice. Rather than the act itself, it is a decision between two different punishments — one that will provide pain, and one that will provide relief at the cost of severe, scalding humiliation. It feels more like a trick or an illusion. Won't Cy just do both, in the end?
What if Sasuke wants both? To have his tits bruised, striped with welts, and then to have Cy's hands covering those fresh marks as he's milked, splattering his own feet, pooling on the floor.
There's another sob, overwhelmed by the choice, a tear dripping down his hot cheek. His right hand fights the cuff holding it affixed, and then he shows one hesitant finger.]
no subject
The scrape of the chair legs has the intended effect of intimidation. He shivers, waiting in that prone position, unable to fully turn his head and watch where Cy finally settles at his side. The first impact drives a high noise out of his throat — he can't even clench his jaw to smother the sound, so it's loud in his ears, half-choked by silicone. He loses his breath again, a few hitches of effort around the toy before he manages to grasp a tempered rhythm so he won't suffocate. The soft skin of his breast stings, redness blooming where he's been struck by the rod.
And then Cy presents him with that choice. Rather than the act itself, it is a decision between two different punishments — one that will provide pain, and one that will provide relief at the cost of severe, scalding humiliation. It feels more like a trick or an illusion. Won't Cy just do both, in the end?
What if Sasuke wants both? To have his tits bruised, striped with welts, and then to have Cy's hands covering those fresh marks as he's milked, splattering his own feet, pooling on the floor.
There's another sob, overwhelmed by the choice, a tear dripping down his hot cheek. His right hand fights the cuff holding it affixed, and then he shows one hesitant finger.]