Page 57 of Kit
Parker continued to rub against the abused flesh, lightly pinching, fingers delving into the crack.
“You will feel that tonight as you sleep,” he said.
It was awful. And wonderful. Exactly what I wanted. “Yes, Daddy.”
“And you won’t touch the fire ever again.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good boy.”
I started to stand but he pressed down on my back.
His hand went to my thighs, pushing them apart. Fingers played along the soft flesh there, lightly brushing my balls.
My cock dangled thick and erect, helpless.
Parker played with me that way for a long time. Finally, his hand closed over my cock and gripped, moving down.
I nearly choked. “Daddy!”
“What have we here, baby boy?”
“It just happened.” I gritted my teeth.
He milked downward again. My cockhead felt a little jolt and I dripped.
“It just happened, eh? What a naughty boy you are, Kit. It just happened?” He milked faster.
“Oh Daddy.”
“Is this what you needed, bad baby? A red ass and a firm hand?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Another stroke. Another burst of precum.
“And you’ll never do it again?”
“Yes, Daddy.” I wiggled my ass.
“Stay still, baby. You aren’t to move until I say.” He squeezed my cock.
“Uhn!”
“No moving now. Let Daddy do what Daddy has to do.”
“Uhhh.”
“Look at what a naughty boy you are.” Stroke. Squeeze. Milk.
“I’m very bad, Daddy.” I could barely squeak out the words.
“And you need this. Look what you’re making me have to do.”
My body was like a hot delicacy unfolding, the flame of my ass the centerpiece, my cock the main course.
“Such a naughty boy,” Parker kept repeating.
