Drinnen

Master Ron walks in dressed like a twisted doctor and straps Axel tight on the chair. Metal stirrups hold his legs wide. The leather straps bite. Ron gloves up, greases his fist, and starts pushing in while Axel grits his teeth. The fist sinks past the wrist, then the forearm. Ron keeps driving deeper, twisting, curling his knuckles inside until Axel groans and sweat runs down his chest. He pulls out, pisses straight onto the open hole, then works the warm piss back inside with four fingers. Axel strains against the straps. Ron swaps the fingers for a thick black plug, shoves it home, and leaves it stretching him while he watches. Leather creaks. Metal clinks. The only sounds are Axel’s breathing and the wet slide of rubber on skin.