me, Sir, Martin admitted happily. Its such a dirtything you do for me.Itdoesnt feel dirty, Henry told him, tilting his hips, pullingout and pushing in again. Everything about Martin seemed pure,practically holy.Itdoesfeel dirty, Sir, Martin insisted. The best kind of dirty.Henrylooked down at Martin, who was flushed and panting, his cock hard anddark. He began to fuck him in leisurely rhythm. He tried to considerwhat else a capricious master might demand of a hapless slave,wanting to come up with a punishment Martin would enjoy.Touchyour nipples, slave.Sir?Martin did not enjoy having his nipples played with as much as Henrydid; they were perhaps overly sensitive.Youheard me. If you dont want to do it, you know what to say. Itwas only now occurring to Henry that notsaying the word would be a point of pride for Martin, that he wantedHenry to push this boundary.Martinshook his head firmly to the negative, and touched his chest withshaking hands, his deft violinists fingers teasing his hardnipples and his cock jerking with each pinch. No, Sir...please,Sir!Pleasewhat? What are you begging for, slave?Ivebeen good, Sir, I really have!Notgood enough, Henry told him. I might have to punish youanyway.Martinmoaned, almost a sob, and his cock flexed. His hands stilled over hischest.Keepdoing it, Henry insisted. Keep doing it or say the word. Heflicked the head of Martins prick with a fingernail. Martin criedout and jerked beneath him and resumed twisting and teasing hisnipples with renewed vigor.Henryfucked him slowly for a few minutes, reveling in the drag of skinagainst skin. Martin looked as though he was suffering a little, butHenry thought this was rather what Martin wanted.Youcant come, Henry reminded him, and ran a fingertip up theunderside of his cock.Martindid sob this time and his balls drew up tight.Henrystilled with his cock in Martins ass. He squeezed Martinsprick, slow and deliberate, and gave it a couple of strokes whileMartin writhed and whimpered beneath him.Youcant come until I let you. Until I say so. He ran hisfingertips through the slick on Martins belly and brought them tohis lips, letting the bitter-salty flavor of Martin spread throughhis mouth. He took hold of Martins cock again and stroked it witha loose fist, thumb sliding over the head, and it jerked in his handwhile Martin took in frantic, hiccupping breaths, his hands stillbusy. Muscles jumped low in his belly. If Henry touched him with justa little more purpose, hed come apart.Please,Sir, I cant!Youcant what?Ifyou keep touching me...I cant take it, Sir! Martin sounded soanguished, his eyes full of desperation.Ifits too much, you know you can make me stop. But I think you cantake it. However, Henry let go of his cock. He began to fuck himagain, harder now, hands pushing down on the backs of his thighs,hips slamming against his ass, and Martin groaned and pressed hishands flat against his nipples, a protective gesture, but then bithis lip and began to obediently pinch them again before Henry couldtell him to do so, his suffering very apparent. In his place, Henryfelt that he would have been shouting omnibus,but Martin clearly relished having his mettle tested.Hadhe done it right?