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Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.

“Yeah, I know...” I commiserated, and now that Brucie was no longer in my way I could lean down to give her a comforting hug. “You get used to that part, eventually. Just try to relax, and focus on how good it feels filling you up. He'll start to shrink down pretty quick. You can also put your hand on your pussy, if you want, to hold your lips closed and keep him in there longer. It can help, to make sure he's shrunk down even smaller before you decide to let him out, so he doesn't stretch you so much when he does it. Just don't hold him in there too long, or eventually he'll get annoyed and twist around to nip you on your butt to make you let him go.”

Watching him work, the expertise at his fingertips, it was like watching a masterful performance. Even the act of dissection was artful. He was so knowledgeable, so capable, and he would explain how he used these techniques in the past to help people. My fear quickly turned to admiration, and I realized that Lord Noah could not be judged by such terms as good or evil. He is neither black nor white, but gray at both its darkest and brightest, a gray as deep as the ocean.