Apprentice Monroe

Apprentice Monroe found fondness in being stripped by men… undeniable fondness. He dreamed of being touched, stroked, kissed… and not just by any man, but by a man of power, and reverence. A man exactly like Master Figata. Chiseled on the master’s face was the legacy and knowledge of the Order, and with it carried the kind of heat that Monroe melted, and wanted to melt, under.

Master Figata’s gentle but firm hands pushed his all-but-willing apprentice across the office table. He gripped Apprentice Monroe’s rear in his palms. The boy moaned as his pale cheeks were spread apart. Figata’s tongue darted in and out of his ass, and weakened him.