Keyholder Club
Copyright© 2026 by SindeeM
Chapter 6: Milking/Ruined Orgasm, New Cage
BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 6: Milking/Ruined Orgasm, New Cage - A group called the keyholder Club where women are chastity device Keyholders. Primarily Femdom with BDSM, some extreme such as CBT. I will have some chapters with male on male sex or Alpha’s using beta boys. Not all chapters will have all of the topics. I will put a note at the beginning or the chapter for the key topics in that chapter so the reader can pass if they wish. It is best to read from the beginning. Feedback & suggestions welcome. Thank you for reading.
Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/Ma Coercion Consensual Mind Control NonConsensual Reluctant Gay BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction BDSM DomSub MaleDom FemaleDom Humiliation Light Bond Rough Sadistic Spanking Interracial Black Male White Male White Female Oriental Female Hispanic Female Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie First Masturbation Oral Sex Pegging Sex Toys
The air in Jade’s playroom was thick. Michael and Timothy knelt side-by-side on the blood-red carpet, their naked bodies pale in the dim light. The weight of their chastity cages seemed to grow heavier with every passing second. Three months have passed for Michael and four for Timothy since their last release. Their balls were swollen, taut, and aching.
They were both looking at the room with fear. They saw the velvet red walls. This wasn’t a room; it was a cathedral of female supremacy and male submission.
There was a large, framed photograph. A pale, skinny beta boy was bent over a leather spanking bench. Angry red welts crisscrossed his flesh, some so dark they were almost purple, with tiny beads of blood welling up at the intersections. Beside him, a tall, statuesque blonde in thigh-high boots held the cane, her face a mask of cold, ecstatic satisfaction. Michael’s own locked cage felt suddenly, painfully tight.
The heavy door swung open, and Jade entered. She was a vision with a tight black latex crop top with her hard nipples poking through on her flat chest. Her tight latex thong crept up her ass cheeks, showing her small tight ass and a perfect camel toe outline of her cunt.
She didn’t speak at first, just letting the silence stretch, letting their anticipation build into a palpable, trembling thing. She saw they were looking at the photos on the wall.
“Aren’t they beautiful? My little art projects. Each one is a story of a boy learning his place. She let the words hang in the air before her tone shifted, becoming laced with condescending sympathy.
“My, my, look at both of you, your poor, swollen balls. So full and achy, and yet you haven’t begged for release, not once, either of you. Such good boys. But you must remember, beta boys don’t get to cum. They only get to dribble at best. Only alpha males get to shoot thick, hot loads of cum. That’s a pleasure you’ll never, ever know.”
Your balls must be screaming.” She reached out, casually cupping and weighing each of their swollen sacks, making them flinch. “All that pent-up beta goo. It’s a shame to let it go to waste.”
Looking at Timothy. “Four months. Has it really been four months since your last little dribble? Your poor balls must be so achy and full. All heavy and desperate.”
“You’re a product of your generation with plenty of access to online porn. You were also a chronic masturbator and couldn’t go more than two days without fucking your handpussy.”
“Remember how unfulfilling that was? The reason you came to the Keyholder Club is because you wanted a girl to take control of your orgasms. Your fantasy was dominating a big tit Asian girl. What you got was a flat-chested Asian girl owning your pathetic little dicklet and deciding when you get to dribble or get milked.”
Looking at Michael, “And you, three months since you jerked off.” You were such a chronic masturbator. I bet you would do anything to get some relief, wouldn’t you, bitch boy?
Michael nodded his head up and down.
“Aww, does my little Michael remember his old life?” she cooed. “Just three months ago, you were a chronic masturbator, weren’t you? Fucking your hand-pussy every night to pictures of flat-chested Asian girls on your computer screen.”
With a mocking laugh, she said. “And now here you are. Kneeling before a real one. Dreams really do come true, don’t they? Only it’s not quite how you imagined it, is it? You see, real men get to fuck. Beta boys like you only get to dribble or get milked.
She stood and circled them slowly, the heels of her boots clicking softly on the floor. “Isn’t this life so much more exciting than those lonely nights with your hand? All that frustration? Now you have the privilege of worshiping me. She stopped behind them. “All my Cages present themselves to me hairless from the neck down. A clean slate for their mistress.
“Let’s have a look. “Both of you stand up and spread your ass cheeks NOW!”
Both of them complied instantly. Michael felt a burning on his face as he reached back, exposing himself completely. He felt her gaze, cool and assessing. He could feel the air on his hairless skin, on his tightly puckered asshole, and on the weighted sack of his balls, pulled taut by the chastity ring.
Timoth let out a little whimper as he grabbed his ass cheeks and pulled them apart. He had fantasized about telling a big-tit Asian girl to spread her fleshy ass cheeks apart, and now here he was showing this beautiful and evil small-chested Asian girl his tight, puckered asshole.
Jade felt the ass of each of her beta boys. “Hmm, very good. “So smooth,” she murmured.
She put a finger into each of their assholes. Her finger slid into Michael’s smooth, tight fuckhole.
She complimented Michael, “Nice, a smooth, hairless bitch boy ready to be deflowered.
Timothy tensed up with his asshole clenching shut. “Relax,” she commanded.
Timothy relaxed his sphincter muscles, and she slowly and deliberately slid her finger inside him to the first knuckle. Timothy let out a shuddering breath.
“Still so tight,” she mused, twisting her fingers slightly, one in each fuckhole.
“I could sell these fuckholes for a lot of money. You know that, don’t you?”
Timothy closed his eyes, hoping she would get on with her wicked plan, whatever that may be.
Michael never knew if she was serious or kidding, and that uncertainty was its own form of exquisite torture. She withdrew her finger as casually as she had inserted it and returned to her chair.
Do either of you know what prostate milking is?”
Jade let the question hang in the air. She watched their faces, seeing the confusion and fear.
Michael, ever the analytical one, was trying to piece together the clinical term with their reality. Timothy, already broken from his recent punishments, just looked terrified.
Both Michael and Timothy shook their heads from side to side.
A slow, predatory smile spread across Jade’s lips. It wasn’t a kind smile.
“I didn’t think so,” she purred. “It’s quite simple, really. It’s biology. A medical procedure, in fact.”
“You see, all that cum you two are so desperate to squirt? It doesn’t just appear out of thin air. Your body manufactures it constantly, pooling in your balls, aching for a release that, as beta boys, you don’t deserve. But all that pressure can be ... inconvenient. It can make you distracted. It can make you think your own selfish desires actually matter.”
She stopped and looked directly at them. “A milking is the solution. It’s a way to drain the tank without ever starting the engine. You get no satisfaction, not a single second of pleasure, and you’ll still be frustrated. I won’t be stimulating your pathetic little dicklets. I will be bypassing them entirely.”
Michael felt a cold knot form in his stomach. He was starting to understand.
“I insert a special instrument into your asshole,” Jade explained, her tone as casual as if she were describing how to make a cup of tea. “I’ll find your prostate gland. It’s a small, walnut-sized lump inside you. When an Alpha cums, his prostate pulses, pumping all that wonderful cum out. I’ll be doing the same thing. I’ll press on it, massaging it and milking it.
She made a milking motion with her hand, her fingers squeezing in a rhythmic pump. The gesture was obscene, clinical, and utterly horrifying.
“And your body,” she continued, her eyes gleaming with cruel delight, “won’t know the difference. Your prostate will contract. Your seminal vesicles will squeeze. And all that hot, thick cum you’ve been saving up for weeks ... for months ... will be forced out of you. It will drain out of your useless dicklet in a stream. You won’t feel a pulse of pleasure. You won’t feel the shattering release of an orgasm. You will just feel pressure. And then emptiness. A cold, hollow, aching emptiness.”
Timothy made a small, choked sound in the back of his throat. His face had gone a sickly shade of pale. He looked like he was going to be sick. The idea of being touched there was bad enough, but the clinical, detached way she described it, the promise of a release that wasn’t a release, was a new kind of torture he couldn’t have imagined.
Michael stared at her, his mind reeling. He was picturing it: lying restrained, helpless, while she methodically forced his body to betray him. He would feel his balls drain without the pleasure of an orgasm. It was the perfect torment. It was the ultimate expression of their power. They could command his body’s most intimate functions and strip all the pleasure from them, leaving only the mechanics and the shame.
Jade watched their horrified reactions with a deep, throbbing satisfaction. She saw the dawning understanding in Michael’s eyes and the raw panic in Timothy’s.
“I own your dick and your balls,” she said. “I own every drop of cum in those swollen sacks. I will do whatever the fuck I want with them. I can drain them, I can ignore them, and I can make them ache until you cry. It doesn’t matter what you need. It only matters what I want.”
“So,” she concluded, “now you know. Milking isn’t a reward; it’s maintenance. It’s draining the swamp without ever getting to enjoy the rain. And one of you,” she said, her gaze flicking between them, “is about to experience it firsthand.”
“She stood up, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her beautiful, angelic face. “So, today is a special day. We’re going to have a little competition.”
Michael’s heart hammered against his ribs. Timothy risked a glance up, his eyes wide with fear.
“You’ll both worship my cunt,” Jade announced. “You’ll use everything you have learned. Your tongues, your fingers, your focus. You’ll try to make me cum. The winner,” she paused, letting the word hang in the air, “the one who pleases me the most will earn a ruined orgasm.”
She paused for a few seconds.
“A hollow prize, but infinitely better than the alternative, trust me.”
“The loser,” she continued, her smile widening, “will be taken to the milking bench. You’ll be drained like an animal.”
She let that sink in before delivering the true cruelty. “But that’s not all. The loser will consume every drop of ejaculate today. Both his own, from the milking, and the winner’s, from his ruined orgasm. You’ll swallow the evidence of your failure and the proof of his victory.”
She saw the dawning horror in their eyes and savored it. “Oh, and there’s one more thing the loser must do. To truly cement his place at the bottom. The loser will suck the winner’s dicklet to help me make the winner suffer just a little more before his well-earned, ruined orgasm. Now the stakes are clear.”
The blood drained from Timothy’s face. Michael felt a sick lurch in his stomach. The game was rigged. There was no way to win, only to lose less spectacularly.
Jade took off her latex top and latex thong. She sat down on a large chaise longue. She spread her legs and played with her rock-hard nipples on her sexy flat chest. Her smoothly shaved cunt was already wet with anticipation.
She placed a small electronic timer on the table. “You’ll each have fifteen minutes. Timothy, you’re up first.”
Timothy, desperate to avoid the penalty, scrambled forward. He threw himself into his task with a frantic, clumsy energy. He used the broad, flat strokes he’d been taught, lapping at her folds with a sloppy enthusiasm. He then went straight to her clit to mimic Michael’s technique, scraping his teeth lightly over her clit, but it was a poor imitation. He bit too hard.
“Ouch, fuck, watch those teeth, bitch boy,” Jade gasped.
He was all panic and no precision. He jammed two fingers inside her, pumping them mindlessly, his face a mask of sheer, desperate concentration. He was trying to find her G-spot but only scraped the inside of her sensitive cunt.
“Fuck, what are you doing?” She yelled.
He pushed his tongue into her cunt, but it felt like a wet, warm wash rag to Jade. He licked up and down her cunt lips, making wet, slurpy sounds as he licked her cunt juices. He finally went back to her clit, now just running his tongue back and forth. He didn’t use his lips or teeth this time. He flicked back and forth over her clit with his tongue. He finally heard a small moan from her, and so he put more effort into flicking his tongue faster, but the buzzer sounded.
When the timer buzzed, Timothy flinched back, his face slick with her juices and his eyes pleading. He knew he didn’t do a very good job.
“Switch,” Jade commanded.
Michael took his place. He was more calculated. He knew her body.
He started out with a couple of broad long licks up and down her wet slit. He then licked the sensitive area between her cunt and asshole, knowing there were a lot of nerve endings there. He used his tongue piercing around the rim of her tight, brown, puckered asshole. He went round and round while he gently rubbed her inner thighs. He then pushed his tongue deep into her asshole. He heard her moaning. He tasted the sharp muskiness of her asshole. He wiggled his tongue inside her asshole, feeling her legs tense up.
He then licked back to the bottom of her cunt, using his tongue piercing right at the bottom opening of her cunt. He then placed his tongue and tongue piercing flat against her dripping wet cunt and licked up and down, gently flicking over her clit a couple of times. He heard her moan and felt her cunt gush as her cunt juice started flowing. He used long slow licks as when licking an ice cream cone.
He knew he had limited time and was sure he could make her cum; it was not to win the contest but to make his goddess feel good. His little dicklet twitched in its cage, thinking of that.
He licked and sucked her cunt lips, running his tongue piercing over the sensitive folds of flesh. He then pushed his tongue deep into her soaking wet cunt, wiggling his tongue around. He then started to tongue fuck her cunt while he gently pressed a finger into her asshole, hearing her gasp as he did that. In and out, like a miniature dick, he tongue-fucked her cunt.
He felt her grab his head. He knew what that meant. He went straight for her clit. He started by running his tongue-piercing back and forth over her sensitive clit. By this time it was poking out. He wrapped his lips around her engorged clit and sucked hard while flicking his tongue piercing back and forth over the tip of her clit.
She was moaning louder now.
“fuuuuuuuuuuuuck ... yea gonna ... Fuuuuuuuuuuck keep going ... Yeeeeeeeesss”
He put all of his efforts now into licking her clit while sucking hard. He pressed his finger into her tight asshole, and she went over the edge.
“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeessssssssssssssssssss fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck cuuuuuuuuuuuuning” she yelled.
Her body tensed up, grabbing his head. Her cunt gushed, filling his mouth with her cunt juice.
She pushed his head away with a contented look on her face.
“Time’s up,” she said.
Jade put her latex crop top and latex thong back on. She stood over them, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Timothy,” she said, turning to him. “Your enthusiasm was ... noted. It was like watching a puppy trying to fuck a lamppost. Adorable, but ultimately pathetic.” Timothy’s face crumbled, a sob catching in his throat.
“Michael,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “Technique, precision. You used your brain. You used your tool, your tongue piercing, very well. You made me feel it. You made me cum.”
“Michael,” she announced, “you’re the winner. Congratulations. You’ve earned your ruined orgasm.”
She then looked down at the trembling Timothy. “And Timothy, you’re the loser. You know what that means.” She pointed to the milking bench.
The bench was a masterpiece of functional sadism. It was not a simple piece of furniture but an apparatus engineered for absolute control and clinical efficiency. The frame was constructed from heavy, matte-black steel, with thick leather padding where a body would make contact. The main torso section was a long, narrow plank, forcing the man to lie prone with his arms stretched straight above his head. His wrists were secured with custom-fitted steel manacles bolted directly to the frame, eliminating any movement.
A wide, reinforced leather strap, cinched painfully tight across the small of his back, held his torso to the bench. The true genius of the design was in the geometry. A separate, lower section for his legs was adjusted to force his knees to bend at a sharp ninety-degree angle. This elevation had two profound effects: first, it tilted his pelvis upward, jutting his ass high into the air and creating a severe, helpless arch in his lower back. His ass was thus presented at the highest point of his body.
Second, this position splayed his thighs wide, leaving him utterly exposed. His cock and balls, if freed from the chastity cage, dangled in the open air, pulled taut by the position and rendered completely vulnerable. There was nothing to shield them, no way for him to clench his thighs or shift his hips to gain a sliver of modesty. They were simply displayed, presented for Jade’s attention like offerings on an altar. Beneath this display, the bench revealed its most humiliating feature. The leather padding directly under his groin was not a flat surface but a channel.
It began as a shallow, wide depression under the pelvis and deepened into a narrow V-shaped groove that ran down the center of the bench between his legs. This channel was lined with a slick, non-porous black acrylic, its surface angled with a slight decline. It was a system designed for collection. Any fluid, be it sweat, lubricant, or the inevitable result of his milking, would be guided by gravity and the shape of the groove, funneled away from his body, and directed toward a small, recessed drain at the very end of the bench.
It was a design that ensured not a single drop would be wasted, reinforcing the clinical, detached nature of the procedure. The victim would be milked and processed.
Timoth walked over to the bench, looking at Jade, his eyes begging for mercy, but he knew she didn’t know the meaning of the word. Then again, that was why he was so drawn to her.
Jade strapped him in, his ass raised high and his body completely immobilized. She donned a pair of black latex gloves, her movements efficient. “Watch him, Michael,” she said, her voice flat. “Watch what you avoided. This is the price of failure.”
“Four months,” she mused, her voice a silken purr. “That’s a long time for a boy to go without a release. Your balls must be so full, so blue.” She knelt between his spread legs, the small key glinting between her fingers. She unlocked his chastity cage. As she slid the cage away, his tiny dicklet, finally free, sprang forward, instantly hard and weeping at the tip.
“Oh, look at that,” Jade cooed, her tone dripping with condescending affection. “So eager. So desperate.”
Before he could form a response, she produced a pair of vicious-looking, clover-style nipple clamps joined by a heavy silver chain. Timothy’s breath hitched as she leaned over his back, her latex-clad breasts pressing against him.
She took her time, toying with one of his nipples until it was a hard, pebbled nub, and then she let the clamp bite down. A sharp, exquisite bolt of pain shot through his chest, making him cry out. She repeated the process on the other side, his body arching as much as the restraints would allow.
“There,” she said, giving the chain a sharp tug that made him whine. “Now we can begin.”
Her touch was exquisite torture. She wrapped her hand around his shaft, her grip firm but her strokes maddeningly light. She watched, fascinated, as his cock twitched and jumped in her palm, the head turning purple. Pre-cum leaked steadily from the tip, and she used it to lubricate her slow, teasing pumps.
“You’re so sensitive,” she whispered, leaning close so her latex-clad nipples brushed against his back. “Just a few strokes and you’re ready to pop. But you won’t. You don’t get to.”
She released him suddenly, leaving his cock to bob in the air, abandoned and throbbing. Before he could process the loss, a new sensation began, a soft, feather-like tickler tracing a path along his inner thigh. He squirmed, a whimper catching in his throat. “Please,” he begged, his voice a ragged whisper. “Miss Jade, please...”
She laughed. “More? Oh, I’ll give you more.” She grabbed a riding crop. As she spoke, she brought the riding crop down, not with a sharp smack but with a series of light, staccato taps against his shaft. Each tap made his cock bounce and leak another fat drop of pre-cum that slid down the acrylic channel.
The rhythm was unpredictable, a chaotic drumbeat of denial. Just as he began to anticipate the next tap, it stopped. In its place, he felt the ghost-light touch of the feather again, this time swirling around the base of his balls, a stark, confusing contrast to the sharp taps from moments before.
His begging became incoherent, a stream of broken pleas and whimpers. The constant, dull ache from the nipple clamps blended with the sharp, desperate need in his groin, creating frustration that was slowly eroding his mind. He could feel the slick trail of fluid he was leaving being funneled toward the drain.
Shen then grabbed a vibrating wand. She held the wand vibrator just millimeters from his cock head, the buzzing energy making his entire pelvic region feel like it was vibrating.
As the maddening hum filled the air, she leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. “Look at you,” she whispered. “Dripping already. Don’t worry, the bench will catch it. We’re going to collect every useless drop.”
The combination of the vibration and the intimate, condescending whisper was too much; he sobbed into the leather padding, his mind unable to track which sensation to brace for next. It was a relentless, fluid assault that offered no pattern, no mercy, and no hope of anticipation.
The buzzing of the wand died down. Michael’s entire body twitched. His little dicklet was hard and twitching.
He felt a single, sharp nail trace a slow, deliberate line from the base of his balls all the way up his shaft to the frenulum. The touch was so light, so precise, it was like a wire of pure electricity. His entire body went rigid.
“Please,” he whimpered, the word torn from his throat. “Please, Miss Jade ... I need it. I’m so close. Please, let me have it. I’ll do anything.”
The raw anguish in his eyes, the desperate tremor in his voice, was the most beautiful sight she could have imagined. A slow, wicked smile spread across her lips. “Oh, Timothy,” she purred, “do you know what hearing you beg like that does to me? The more you plead, the more you suffer, and the wetter my cunt gets.
She let her nail circle the sensitive head, smearing the constant stream of precum around the tip. “But you know the rules. Beta boys don’t get to feel that hot, explosive rush. They only get to dribble or get drained. So tell me, what do you want?”
The question was a trap, and he knew it. His mind, clouded with four months of denial and the immediate, overwhelming need, scrambled for the right answer. He couldn’t ask for that forbidden release; that would be admitting he thought he was an Alpha man. He couldn’t say he wanted to dribble; the word itself was a searing humiliation. But the alternative was the unknown evil of milking.
“I ... I want to be drained,” he stammered, his voice cracking. “I want you to milk me, please, Miss Jade. “Please milk me.”
Jade’s smile was triumphant. “Good boy,” she cooed, her voice thick with satisfaction.
“You’re learning. You’re finally learning what you are.” She rewarded his correct answer with a single, firm stroke of her hand on his dicklet, her grip tightening just enough to make his eyes roll back in his head. Then she let go, leaving him to throb in the empty air.
The plea for a milking hung in the air. For a moment, there was only the sound of his ragged breathing and the faint, slick drip of his own pre-cum sliding into the collection channel.
Then, something inside him snapped. A primal, animalistic roar tore from his chest. “NO! NO! NO! PLEASE!”
He thrashed against the bench, a wild, desperate thing. The steel manacles bit into his wrists, and the leather strap across his back creaked with strain as he fought an enemy he couldn’t see. Four months of enforced celibacy, of endless teasing and denial, of watching her pleasure other men. All of it erupted in a single, violent convulsion of frustration.
His eyes, wild and bloodshot, locked onto Jade. She was his devil, his tormentor, the architect of his agony. But in the same breath, she was the most gorgeous, sexy creature he had ever seen. The glossy black latex, the cruel beauty of her face, the flat chest, it’s all slammed into him.
He wanted to worship her, to destroy her, to beg her, to hate her. The conflicting war of emotions raged across his face, a silent, screaming battle for his very soul.
Jade saw it all. She saw the mental struggle, the violent collision of hate and adoration, and the power of it washed over her in a hot, intoxicating wave. Her hand, almost of its own accord, slid down her stomach, her fingers finding her clit through the thin, wet fabric of her thong.
She began to rub, her eyes fixed on his. He saw her touch herself, and the last of his fight crumbled.
He felt his dick throbbing in mid-air, so painfully close to that one thing other men took for granted. The simple, natural act of ejaculation, of cumming, a word he wasn’t even allowed to think, was a right he had been denied. There was nothing he could do. He was a specimen on a table, a machine to be drained.
The fight went out of him, replaced by a profound, soul-crushing sense of surrender. His body went limp against the restraints, his head falling forward. A single, broken sob escaped his lips.
Jade saw it. She saw the exact moment he broke, the moment he accepted his fate. Her fingers flew over her clit, rubbing in a frantic circle as the orgasmic pressure built to an impossible peak.
“OH FUCK! I’M CUMMING! YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” she cried out, her voice echoing through the cathedral of female supremacy. Her body convulsed, the pleasure tearing through her as she watched Timothy surrender completely to the fact that he was going to be milked and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
Recovering from her orgasm, she looked over to Michael and then to Timothy. “It feels so good to be able to cum whenever I want.”
Michael felt his little dicklet twitch in its cage.
Her voice lost all its warmth, becoming cold and detached. “Time to drain you,” she announced, her tone flat.
From a nearby tray, she selected a sleek, stainless-steel rod with a pronounced, bulbous head. It was a prostate milker, designed for clinical efficiency. She coated it in a thick, clear lubricant, the sound of the gel squishing adding to Timothy’s rising dread.
She pressed the cool, rounded tip against his exposed asshole. He whined, a low, pathetic sound from deep in his chest, as she slowly, inexorably pushed the rod inside him. She worked the device with expert precision, finding his prostate with unerring accuracy. The bulbous head pressed against the gland, and a deep, internal pressure began to build, a strange, full-body ache that was somehow both stimulating and utterly frustrating.
“That’s it,” she encouraged, her voice a cruel contrast to the hollow sensation growing inside him. “Let it all out for me. Let go of all that useless beta fluid.”
She began a slow, firm rhythm, massaging the gland in a way that bypassed his pleasure centers entirely. The pressure became unbearable. Timothy began to groan, his body caught in a paradox of needing to push back and wanting to pull away.
He felt it then. a deep, internal shift. A thick, clear fluid suddenly dribbled from the tip of his dicklet, running down the shaft and dripping into the collection channel. There was no orgasm, no relief, no satisfying pulse of pleasure. Just a draining, a hollowing out that left him feeling more empty than before. His moans turned into broken whines as his dicklet immediately began to wilt, the dribble slowing to a pathetic stop.
Jade watched the entire process with rapt attention, with profound satisfaction. He was learning. She slowly withdrew the rod, leaving him feeling vacant and used.
“Perfect,” she breathed. She then detached the small collection vial from the end of the bench’s drain, holding it up to the light. It was filled with a surprisingly large volume of the milky, clear fluid, a testament to the four months of pent-up frustration she had just methodically drained from his body.
“Don’t want to waste a drop, do we?” she mused. She moved to his head, tilting his chin up.