* * *
Stunned, Nael fell backward, too shocked to even think of getting up.
Killian dragged a hand through his hair, his expression irritated.
“The hell are you doing? Didn’t I tell you to sleep?”
“I-I just….”
What could he say?
There was no excuse.
Should he say: ‘I saw your lips and couldn’t help wanting to kiss you?’
“Your asshole itching? Can’t sleep without a dick in you?”
“N-no, that’s not it.”
Nael’s chest ached at Killian’s crude words.
That wasn’t it at all.
He didn’t need a cock inside him.
He just wanted—just once—to be treated with a little warmth.
But the words wouldn’t come. He was Killian’s possession, after all.
It hurt, but there was nothing he could do.
As Killian sat up and slowly approached, Nael could only shake his head.
Killian smirked, his gaze flickering to the obscene sprawl of Nael’s legs.
Before Nael realized it, Killian’s foot had settled between his thighs, nudging them apart.
The tip of Nael’s cock, already half-hard, twitched upward.
W-why is this happening?
Nael stared down at himself in confusion.
“You’re hard, and you still say no?”
“This is… it’s nothing you need to worry about, Master.”
“Show me. Stroke it.”
Killian’s big toe pressed insistently against Nael’s balls.
The pressure made his cock jerk, slapping against Killian’s instep before drooping back down, a string of precum glistening between them.
Nael’s lips parted soundlessly before he finally looked up at Killian with pleading eyes.
He hadn’t kissed him with any impure intent—but his fully erect cock told a different story.
“Use your hands.”
Killian’s foot pressed firmly against Nael’s chest, forcing him back onto the floor.
Obediently, Nael fumbled to grip himself.
His fingers trembled as he began stroking.
Killian’s toes played with his balls, tapping lightly before pressing against his perineum.
“Hah—!”
“Do it properly. Remember how I do it for you. Play with your nipples, too. Maybe once you come, you’ll finally behave.”
“Nngh….”
Nael rubbed at his sore nipples, already chafed from Killian’s relentless mouth.
Even the slightest touch stung, making his face twist.
Every time his fist dragged over the flushed head of his cock, more slickness spilled into his palm.
“Ngh…!”
The teasing toes trailed lower, tracing the wrinkled rim of his hole—still loose from being fucked earlier in the day.
Nael’s hips jerked helplessly, his cock twitching even under Killian’s indifferent foot.
The lewd, wet sounds filled the room. Small but dripping, and so damn lewd.
“Ah—! M-Master!”
Something thick nudged inside him, and his back arched.
What…? Master is standing, so what’s—?
“Don’t stop stroking. I’ll help you.”
“Ah—! Y-your—! Your foot, nngh—!”
“I’m fucking you with it. Isn’t this enough? Want it deeper?”
Nael’s slender thighs trembled as he pumped himself.
He pinched and pulled at his nipples, mimicking what Killian usually did to him.
The pain burned, but the heat in his cock only grew worse—hard as iron, dripping so much his palm was soaked.
The thick intrusion at his asshole squirmed, teasing his rim.
Killian exhaled roughly.
It felt like all his blood had pooled below his navel, his breath hitching in his throat.
Killian’s gaze bore into him, sharp enough to pierce through, his half-hard cock already straining toward Nael.
“Ah—! Master. Nngh—!”
Nael cried out as he spilled, a pale mess streaking up to his chest.
Only then did he realize the thing lodged inside him had slipped out.
“Just your toes were enough, huh?”
Killian knelt beside him with leisurely ease, running a hand through Nael’s hair.
Everything about him was obscenely erotic—the monstrous thickness of his cock nestled between those powerful thighs, the dark curls at its base.
Nael reached out, fingers curling around the head.
“I want to touch it too, Master. Ah—! Master.”
In the blink of an eye, he was lifted from the floor, weightless, before being dropped onto the bed.
His head hung over the edge, golden hair fluttering like a breath of wind had caught it.
“Open your mouth.”
Even half-hard, it was already too much.
Could he even take it?
While Nael hesitated, Killian adjusted his height, kneeling until the tip nudged against his lips.
A few impatient taps against his mouth made it clear—open.
Nael parted his lips with a shaky breath.
“Ghk—!”
Just the head filled his mouth completely.
Killian cupped Nael’s cheeks and pushed deeper.
The tip brushed his uvula, teetering on the edge of unbearable.
His tongue had no room to move.
His jaw ached instantly, threatening to unhinge.
“So much spit already. And here you are, dripping just from a little touch.”
“Nngh—! Hah—”
The sheer size of the cockhead stretching his mouth was beyond anything a person could reasonably pleasure.
When Killian pushed further, precum and saliva overflowed, spilling past Nael’s lips.
The veined, pulsing shaft in front of him only grew thicker.
Nael kicked the sheets away with his toes, a feeble attempt to squirm free—not that it mattered.
He had no control. Killian’s movements dictated everything.
Blood rushed to his upside-down head, cheeks flushing crimson.
His stretched jaw burned.
He wanted to soothe it with his hands but clawed at the sheets instead.
Fear prickled—what if the pain made him bite down?
He tried to breathe through his nose, but even that was a struggle.
“Tight. Can barely move.”
Killian smirked, watching Nael’s lips strain around him.
He wanted to thrust hard, but the boy’s throat would be wrecked.
Instead, he gave his cock a slow twist.
Nael’s tongue twitched weakly, barely able to lick.
The growing girth made him writhe, legs kicking.
“I’ll fill you up good. Swallow every drop.”
Nael’s blurred vision caught the sight of Killian’s hand working his shaft, heavy balls slapping with each stroke.
Even with just the head in, the force made it feel like he was being fucked.
He squeezed his eyes shut, afraid he’d gag if it hit his throat again.
“Look at me.”
“Ngh—!”
Killian’s dark hair swayed as he leaned down.
His thighs—thick enough to match both of Nael’s legs combined—flexed with every motion.
Then, without warning, the cockhead plunged deeper, blocking his airway.
Nael choked, lungs seizing.
Panic sent his body trembling, hands shoving at Killian’s thighs.
“Hah—! Ghk—!”
The muscles didn’t budge.
Desperate, Nael raked his nails over them, but Killian only pulled back slightly before driving in again.
The tip pried his uvula wide.
Tears streamed freely now, saliva and precum dripping backward into his nose.
Just as abruptly, Killian pulled out. Nael collapsed, coughing, face red and swollen.
His mouth hung open, drool spilling in rivulets.
Killian fisted a hand in his hair.
Nael gasped soundlessly, still fighting for air.
Wait—just give me a second—!
But Killian didn’t wait.
He flipped Nael onto his stomach, yanking his legs up, folding him in half.
“Ah—! Master!”
“If your mouth can’t take it, I’ll use your other hole. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
No foreplay. No preparation.
Just the brutal press of the head forcing inside.
Nael had only wanted warmth—a fleeting comfort—but Killian mistook it for greed.
He covered his eyes with a trembling hand, tears slipping through his fingers.
“Hhng—!”
“You’ll get used to it.”
He didn’t need to say more. Nael already knew.
The thick, veined shaft pushed in, and despite the pain, his body melted into the pleasure.
These tears were different—not from suffocation, but from the overwhelming sensation of being split open.
Killian knew his body better than he did.
Knew exactly how to wreck him.
Each thrust made his stomach bulge, heat spreading through his limbs.
Sweat slicked his skin.
Moans spilled freely.
“Feels good… Ah—!”
Killian’s hips moved with a slow, relentless rhythm, stretching him wider with every pass.
Nael’s legs twitched, toes curling.
“Nael.”
“Hah… yes.”
“Nael….”
Yes, Master. I’m here. I’ll cry prettily for you. Laugh for you. Anything you want.
Pleasure pooled shallow, then overflowed.
The moment he felt himself tipping over, sticky warmth spurted from his cock, painting Killian’s stomach.
Even the slow drag of Killian’s thrusts felt like sparks flying, blood pounding in time with each movement.
* * *
