Having been a sex worker on and off for about twelve years, the last five plus in London, I knew the city hosted quite a few professional gay Masters. I screamed with laughter as Master Felix methodically worked my pits, ribs, nipples and belly button with his fingers and I broke out in a heavy full-body sweat, slickening my hairy muscles with slippery salty grease and heightening the insidious torture even further. Gay sex He gave me time-limited access to his media library, which was a massive collection of photos and short clips of him working on his punters, all of whom were masked or hooded, so I got a good sense of what he was offering. “A couple of sessions later?” I hear you ask? His last torture implement of choice was an electric toothbrush which was especially “effective” on my nipples, deep in my navel, and on my cocksnot-sticky frenulum.There was a break while my gag was removed and I was allowed to sip water from a sports bottle, then it was refitted and Master Felix positioned a stool down at my feet. He then proceeded to flog my chest and thighs for a bit before tapping my butt, cock and balls lightly with a riding crop.
