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Icarus stood trembling in the hallway on the top floor of a high-rise apartment building. There were only four doors - four corner penthouses - and he had been led to this one. A shaky hand gently rapped on the door to Penthouse Three, the full lettering etched into the mahogany door. He stood in waiting under the soft hallway lighting turned dim to promote a sense of class and coziness.

The seconds stretched into hours, and Icarus was rapidly regretting his decision. What was I thinking, he thought, I don't even know the man… he could try to hurt me, or worse!

The man in question went by the handle of MstrDraxxon, and Icarus had agreed to come to his apartment and “submit to him" for the night. Their chat had lasted only an hour, but in that time Icarus was easily swayed. Thoughts of that chat echoed in his mind as he tried to rationalize why he agreed. Maybe it was the dry spell he had gone through since Olaf abandoned him. Maybe he had finally grown tired of the caliber of men he often sought out - slimy, malicious men that not only took his body at their whim but also much of his soul.

His internal debate had suddenly been put on hold as the doorknob turned. He gasped lightly. It's now or never, he thought. Icarus quickly surveying his escape options: none unless he was fortunate enough to catch an elevator already at the top floor. The door slowly opened, and inside a shadowy figure beckoned him in a low voice, “Come in."

Icarus took a hesitant step through the doorway and entered the foyer of a large, dark room. The lofty walls rose up at least two stories and revealed an open space lit only by an enclosed fire pit and the dim glow of the last twilight seconds. As he stepped through and into the kitchen, he heard the door close behind him followed by an ominous clicking of the lock. Before he could turn around to face his suitor, Icarus could feel his presence close the gap behind him. Two large hands slowly wrapped around him and began unbuttoning the boy's jacket.

“Let me help you with these pesky clothes," he said. There was a little bit of warmth in his voice this time. Icarus swallowed the lump in his throat, his arms tensely folding back so as to slip out of the jacket easily. He tried to turn around again, but a hand returned to his shoulder to keep him from discovering too soon.

“Thank you, Sir," Icarus replied. He remembered from their discussion that the shadowy figure lurking behind him was to be called 'Sir' for the evening. He did manage to catch a glance at a pile of unopened mail on a small side table in the kitchen addressed to Drackson Kriga. Suddenly both hands were on him again, this time snaking their way across Icarus's midsection, surveying the landscape as they began rolling up his charcoal tee. He never saw where his clothes went, but as those hands began to undo the button on his pants they were followed with another command, “Out of those shoes, boy."

By now it was hard to maneuver, Icarus fumbling to slip out of his shoes as one hand slipped down into his pants to grasp and squeeze at the rapidly rising penis underneath. Instinctively, Icarus let out a surprised moan. The voice behind him merely chuckled, the deep vibration in his throat rumbling through the boy's entire body. As his pants and underwear were simultaneously removed, he had finally gotten a glimpse at the hands: large, covered in gold scales and tipped at the end with softened claws. When the pants reached the floor, he stepped forward out of them and was finally free to turn around and be introduced.

Icarus was not notified of the man's race, but it was now clear he stood before a large golden dragon, his head and hands glistening against the firelight. He towered at least a foot over the boy, his thick frame clad in a black suit and pants, white button down shirt, red tie, and shiny loafers. Icarus, by comparison, trembled beneath him in nothing but his socks. Drackson grinned at him and took him by the hand.

“Come with me, boy," he said and led him into the den in front of the glass fire pit. It gave off a bit of heat, but seemed to be there more for the ambiance than the functionality. Icarus looked over his shoulder down Drackson's back and along his large tail, wrapping around the boy's waist like a python encircling its prey. Icarus also noticed an empty wineglass in his lover's free hand. Drackson stopped him in front of a black leather lounge chair and sat down. Beside him, a bottle of wine and an unlit cigar and ashtray rested on an endtable beside his seat. Icarus took note of the vivid red silk tie around his reptilian neck as he sat forward on the chair. He stared into the boy's eyes, caressing the back of his thighs. “Turn around, let me take a look at you."

Icarus stood back slightly and turned himself around, all the while feeling those hands exploring every inch of his lower half. “Beautiful," he said. After doing a complete turn, Drackson pulled him closer and stretched out a forked tongue towards his erection. It deftly wrapped itself around the shaft and pulled it into his large mouth. Icarus whined as the dragon slowly suckled on his cock, fiery orange eyes staring deep into the boy's own crystal blue. Waves of pleasure rippled through him. He felt he was going to blow his load right away when Drackson suddenly released him. “That should tide you over," he said with a grin then reclined in his char, his feet spread out on both sides of Icarus. “Now it's your turn to please me."

Icarus nodded, snapping out of his ecstatic daze and dropped to his knees before him. His hands reached up along the inside of his legs and headed for the sizable bulge in his dark pants, when suddenly the dragon lifted his foot and pressed the heel of his shoe down on Icarus's chest and slowly drove him back into the floor. He crossed his other foot over and laid the full weight of his powerful legs on the boy's chest.

“You seem to have forgotten our discussion," he said with calm agitation as he poured himself a glass of wine from the bottle.

“I'm sorry, sir," Icarus stammered. He realized he slipped up and rushed to make amends. The boy hastily reached up to remove the dragon's shoes.

“SLOWLY," Drackson growled. The boy's hands began to tremble again, but he composed himself and reached softly for the right loafer crossed over him. Drackson seemed to relax as he reached for his cigar and lighter. A few clicks of the lighter, and the flame went up and lit the cigar, in a subtle synchronicity as the second shoe came off. As the smoke rose from the cigar for the first puff, so did the odor from his feet. A pair of soft cotton argyle socks emanated a heat that encircled the boy's head like an odiferous halo. Icarus lifted his head up into the ball of the dragon's foot and inhaled through the nose. The foot responded in kind by pressing itself against the boy's face.

“Yessss," Drackson hissed, pausing to take a sip of his wine. “Those socks have been marinating in my shoes for the past five days. They must smell pretty awful down there, don't they, boy?"

Icarus nodded, peeking over the foot. “They smell wonderful, sir."

“Hehe, no they don't. They fucking reek, I can smell them from here. You just like that stink." He took another sip of wine and a puff on his cigar. “That's alright. I've been looking for a cute footrest." He wiggled his toes against Icarus's face. Icarus could count three massive toes underneath the moist fabric. His senses were in overload, his cock flush with blood. Reaching a hand down, he started jerking himself off. He only got a few strokes in before the large yellow tail batted his hand away from his dick. “No touching! That is mine to control tonight."

“Okay, okay," Icarus responded, a little flustered. It seemed he was getting a bit tired of the power exchange. That feeling left quickly as the feet pulled away from him suddenly. He looked up at the dragon only to discover burning orange eyes glaring down at him. Icarus propped himself up to find out what was going on.

“Okay??" Drackson lashed his tail forward and wrapped it around Icarus's neck, yanking him up to his face. “You think it's acceptable to 'Okay' me?!"The tail wrapped tighter and tighter, squeezing the human's delicate neck. His face was pressed violently against the dragon's snarling snout. “When I give you a command, you respond with 'Yes sir' and nothing else." Icarus gasped and wheezed as the coils round his neck gripped and pulled tighter, reducing his protests to a strangled whistle deep in his constricted throat. The dragon's voice dropped, “Now I've been working a fucking long week, and I don't have the patience to put up with any insolence tonight. So learn your place, or get the fuck out. Do I make myself clear??" He released his serpentine grip around Icarus's throat and shoved him to the ground.

Drackson had given him an out, and Icarus carefully considered it. This was nothing like he expected it to be. He thought there'd be some light bondage and a few 'yes sir's, but the dragon stared down at him without any sense of levity in his eyes.

And yet, the boy remained where he was and trepidously uttered, “I'm sorry, sir… I'll do better."

The dragon rolled his eyes. “And why should I entertain this any further?"

“I'm sorry, sir," he threw himself at the dragon's mercy, “I've never done this before. Please excuse my ignorance." His hands pawed lovingly at Drackson's tights again as he waited for his master to respond.

“Hmmm… Alright, here's how this will work. Stand up." Icarus rose to his feet again. Drackson could see he had become limp in his moment of panic. “Turn around." He loosened his tie while Icarus turned his back to the beast. The boy felt his hands roughly yanked behind his back and bound together at the wrist.

“Since you clearly need discipline, I'm gonna have to set some limits. On your knees and face me!" Drackson's patience seemed to be fully eroded, which terrified the boy. He spun around and dropped to his knees, crashing against the hard floor beneath him. He winced on impact.

“Your hands move way too much, so they will remain bound until you learn that your entire body belongs TO ME." Icarus trembled fearfully before his master. He felt the end of that tail wrap around his neck again. “Since I don't have a leash, I'll keep you tethered to my tail. Do something I don't like…" with that comment he started squeezing again, strangling the poor boy who offered no struggle this time. He had learned his place.

“Now, DO you remember what we spoke about? Do you remember how this night is to proceed?" Icarus nodded fervently while wracking his brain over the details of their previous conversation. While he struggled to recall, the tail dragged his head downwards towards the master's socked feet. “Then get back to it!"

Icarus was struggling to balance himself as he lowered his face down to the two feet, pressed together to form the perfect pillow for footpigs such as himself. Without the use of his hands he couldn't control his rate of descent and fell into them. The dark socked feet responded by nuzzling against his cheeks and cradling his face. The boy remained almost motionless in part because he was quite literally stuck in that position. Without his hands he could not push himself back up. So that is where he stayed as the heavy scent of musk assaulted his nostrils.

They were doing something to his perception. Seconds dragged into minutes, hours, perhaps even days. All that Icarus knew is that the outside world fell away to the moment he found himself in. Above him, he could hear the occasional sipping of his master's wine. Icarus felt like he himself was the one becoming intoxicated. His face was flush with warmth. He couldn't tell if it was from the radiating feet surrounding his face, the tightening coil surrounding his neck, or even the sense of vulnerability that surrounded his entire being.

He couldn't tell - and as the moments dragged into eternity, he didn't care.

At some point deep in his trance, he lost the strength to keep himself on his knees. His body slumped to the floor as if to finally concede to full submission. At that point Drackson lifted one foot and placed it on top of Icarus's head. He pressed the other deep into the boy's face and clenched his big toe over the nose. Icarus whimpered, and Drackson responded with another chuckle. He hadn't said a word since his ultimatum. He merely loomed above the boy, asserting his will over his willing victim.

Icarus heard the sound of the wine glass touching the table. In his awe-stricken daze he recalled the discussion they had online:

“We'll start by having you remove my shoes and offering your face as a pillow for my aching feet while I enjoy a glass of wine and a cigar. When I am done with the wine, you will remove my socks and clean my feet. I will expect every inch of my feet to sparkle by the time I am done with my cigar…"

The glass touching the table was the only queue he needed. But how was he to remove the socks? His hands were bound, after all. There was only one other way he could think of. Icarus struggled to slide his head out from underneath the crushing right foot, positioned himself at the end of the toes and gingerly used his teeth to bite down on the end of the sock. He pulled back as best he could against the fabric.

“So you do remember," Drackson said. His foot pulled back to assist, and the sock glided off with ease. He offered his other socked foot to Icarus. “That's a good boy." Icarus bit down again, this time a bit too eager and got a bit of the toe claw in his teeth. He recoiled, afraid he may have gone too far. Then the bare foot gently pressed against the side of his face, holding his head to the floor.

“Let me help you there…" With his head immobilized, Drackson stuck his socked toe deep into the boy's mouth, swirling around inside. Without being told Icarus sucked on the gigantic invader. As his tongue felt the lines of cotton and the pointed tip of a claw inside him, atop him the leathery grip of flat foot scales hugged his face, a slight moistness providing extra traction. “I'm glad you came around, boy. You just need a bit of guidance. It's most understandable… you've never had the honor of serving me before."

Drackson pulled his toe out of the boy's mouth, who grappled the sock with his teeth and watched the dragon's giant golden paw slip out. He beheld three massive toes, broad and slick, and an even larger ball curving back into the sturdy heel. It was much softer-looking than Icarus had expected. The smell from his bare feet was stronger but somehow sweeter. At the end of each toe a claw humbly protruded in its own little arc. The dragon seemed to take care of his nails so as not to poke holes in his socks - or lovers.

He was given a brief moment to examine it with his eyes before it came close and beckoned a more oral examination. The other foot lifted and allowed Icarus to move more freely, relative to his binds. Icarus scuttled up a bit until his head hovered over the massive left foot. The heated stench wafted over his face as he stuck his tongue out and placed it on the big toe. Drackson loosened his tail around the Icarus's neck only enough to allow for a little more movement. Icarus slowly dragged his tongue up the arch of the foot. He was mindful of his pace: fast enough to keep up with the dragon's shrinking cigar, slow enough so as not to tickle his master. He was pretty sure that was the only option. He repeated his strokes all across the top of the reptilian foot, then along the sides a little slower.

Drackson offered his other foot saving the soles for last. A low grumble began following the deliberate tongue strokes. He was savoring the touch on his surprisingly sensitive feet. Maybe this was why he wanted to wait until he finished his wine, Icarus thought to himself. He dared to venture a little past the ankle and up the achilles tendon “Oh," Drackson growled lustily, “You've got a few tricks up your sleeve, haven't you? Well, so do I." He pulled his tail gently so as not to snap the boy's neck but enough to turn him onto his back. Pulling him closer to the chair, he lifted his two feet and placed them firmly on Icarus's face. The balls of his feet rested just under the eyes, giving Icarus a close-up view of the leathery soles.

Icarus took a few sharp breaths before proceeding to snake his tongue between the dragon's toes. “Fffffffffffffuuuuckkk…" Drackson hissed. He pressed against Icarus's head reflexively. The boy's tongue threatened his ticklish spots despite how careful he had been. “Ooh yesssssss!" His reserved growls grew into unrestrained moans. His feet smeared against the boy's face and took turns dipping toes in his mouth. The boy swirled his tongue around each toe savoring the salty hide.

When the last toe popped out of Icarus's mouth Drackson pulled his feet away to survey the job. His feet glittered in the firelight. "Nicely done," the dragon said with a twisted grin, "not too dry and not dripping with your slobber. Your love of feet is quite apparent." Icarus gazed up at him with a meek smile, a sense of hesitant satisfaction towards his master's approval. Without warning he could feel that tail leash tighten again and slowly hoist him up to his knees. Facing the dragon he regained his balance kneeling between the towering legs and sat face to face against the familiar pants tent. He stared up at Drackson, his eyes begging for permission. With a wave of his hand the dragon beckoned him to proceed.

Icarus reached his head up at the bulge to nuzzle its size and shape underneath the thin fabric. The air above him dragged upward as Drackson inhaled sharply. The dragon took the dimishing cigar into his mouth and with both hands gripped the back of Icarus's head, thrusting him into his bulging pants. "Yeeeeessssss..." he whispered. His broad hands playfully ran through the boy's platinum blonde hair. With his face pressed against the seemingly huge cock underneath Drackson reached for the zipper and slowly dragged it downward. Poking out of the hole was yet another tent of bright red underwear, but through the hole in the front he could make out the slit of the dragon's cock. As if the open air activated it, it immediately began to ooze a cloudy precum down the front. Icarus didn't wish for his master's clothes to dirty so he quickly stuck his tongue out and caught it.

"Ahh," Drackson sighed, "what an attentive boy."

It was the first moment of impact between Icarus and Drackson's cock, as if to symbolically finalize their roles to each other. With his lips against the slit, he could feel all the blood pulsing through the electrifying member. There was certainly no turning back now. He stuck his tongue into the Slit of the penis while his lips slowly widened to take in more of the emerging head. With each thrust the cock revealed more of itself to the boy until all twelve inches of the mighty veined serpent stood before him. Drackson beamed with pride as Icarus paused to gaze in awe.

"Yes, it is quite impressive," the dragon said. He dug into the opening and felt around for both testicles. When he pulled them out, the image was complete: A pair of golden globes resting heavily under the crimson cock. It was a marvelous sight indeed.

Icarus returned his lips to the head of Drackson's cock, widening enough for the dry outer lip to cling to the back of the head. It felt humongous in his mouth. He wondered how in the world he was going to fit the rest of that monster inside. His tongue swirled around the sensitive head, tingling the dragon's senses. Drackson groaned and bit down on his lip. His claws dug into the arms of the chair. His entire body was stiffening from the electric sensation of his most delicate skin being tortured so nicely.

“More," he gritted, thrusting into the boy's mouth. “Take MORE of me." Icarus relented, feeling the girth of that cock stretch his jaw to the limits. The boy flattened his tongue out and invited more flesh inside of him. He was able to get about halfway down the shaft before he hit the wall. Icarus gagged once but was able to keep his composure and proceeded to drag his mouth and tongue back and forth.

“Oh god…" Drackson called out. Icarus was lighting up all his senses suckling on the able-bodied erection. Drackson cradled the boy's face in his hands, caressing his cheeks as Icarus slid back and forth, his eyes turning up to meet his master's. “Such an exquisite thing." A hint of a smile could be made out from the both of them - Drackson appeared for the briefest of moments loving and nurturing, while Icarus clung to his approval with desperate abandon. Their gaze locked to each other's for over a minute as they maintained a rhythm designed to bring the dragon to his climax.

“I need more." He thrust harder this time, hitting that wall again in the back of Icarus's throat. Icarus pleaded with his eyes. He had never deep throated anyone before. “Yawn for me, boy." A look of confusion. “Go ahead, try to yawn." Icarus wasn't sure why but didn't want to upset him. He dug down inside of him for a yawn, and in that moment Drackson siezed the stretching throat and plunged deep into the boy. His tail rippled around the boy's throat and clamped down with a thicker set of coils, pulling him to the very base of the submerged sex organ.

Icarus immediately gagged, feeling his insides stretching against their will. He struggled within his bonds, unable to escape for a breath of air, and began to panic. Drackson did not seem to mind and proceeded to skullfuck the helpless boy. As he gagged and choked on the assaulting cock, he sputtered out around the rigid trunk. His lungs began to burn. But all he knew to do was to squelch and gag, his tearing eyes pleading with fright.

“Use your nose to breathe," His master assured him. “Inhale when I pull out, exhale when I go in." He slowed his thrusting to allow for the boy to follow instructions. He still coughed and choked but finally was able to breathe enough air to keep him conscious. His master had not steered him wrong yet. Placing his absolute trust in him at this very moment, the boy went limp and stopped resisting as the potent cock delved deeper into his esophagus. “Nobody ever taught you how to deepthroat?" Icarus shook his head, tears still streaming uncontrollably. “Well I am honored to be taking your virginity in this regard."

Icarus pressed the side of his cheek against the burning thigh to give himself a little bit of support while he was taken with strong strokes into his still tight throat. He felt warm and fuzzy, focusing only on his breathing. His nose tingled like it was on pins and needles, when it was not being smashed into the dragon's musky groin. Drackson's nether regions were rank with the smell of sex. It helped sedate the boy, lull him into a deep trance. He seemed content to stay there forever as a permanent attachment to Drackson's cock. It did not seem like his master would have objected. He hammered at the boy with forceful grunts, slamming his pelvis into Icarus's face.

After several minutes of facefucking his balance began to falter. It wasn't his footing on the ground, though. The amount of air he was able to breathe was not enough, and he was growing light-headed and weak. Drackson's grunts were lengthening into growls. He seemed eager to seed the boy and soon. But a moment of clarity gave him pause, and he slowed down his thrusts until he could safely pull himself out of the boy's pried mouth. With a slick pop his penis arched up into the air, pulsing in a thick, glistening layer of throat slime. Icarus gasped, sucking all the air and saliva into his lungs, and coughing violently as he nearly collapsed to the ground. Held up by the strangling scaled noose he settled himself close to the chair between Drackson's legs. A familiar hand tousled his hair.

“Good boy," Drackson panted. “You've done so well." He shifted his tail about to massage the battered throat muscles. “Stand up for me. Think you can do that?"

“Yes.. sir…" Icarus huffed in a raspy voice. As Drackson's tail slowly hoisted him up by the neck, he found his footing and rose with it. At full height he discovered how heavy and powerful the steel scaly rope actually was. Drackson turned the boy around and instructed him to bend over. He did what he was told and waited for what was to come next. He felt so exhausted inside and out that he had forgotten all of his fear and trepidation leading up to this moment. Taking orders had simply become a reflex.

It came then as a surprise when he felt the slick wet drag of his master's tongue along the back of his scrotum all the way up to his puckered anus. Drackson teased at the sensitive hole, gently pressing in on it, gauging how much give it had. Icarus tried to moan but had no voice left to do it with. Nothing but a crackled sigh came out. The dragon pushed forward again, this time with the full force of his tongue muscles, and Icarus could feel the gateway of his hole yield. It didn't hurt - one of the few benefits of his aggressive past lovers - but he cried out all the same. It was emotional, a vocal ritual to confirm that he had been topped completely. The tongue, primed with its own thick saliva, went deeper and deeper into the tight anal caverns.

The dragon's hands caressed the boy's shuddering legs. They felt the mass of his inner thighs and crept up towards his aching genitals that had gone untouched for what seemed like hours of passionate sex. Finally Icarus was rewarded as a warm hand wrapped itself around the eager shaft and gently squeezed. Icarus's knees buckled. A reactionary shot of precut squirted out onto the floor.

“Heh heh," Drackson chuckled with his tongue still buried in the tender hole. His hand did no more to the boy's cock but merely hold on. It was in fact more torturous than not being touched at all. He tried to hump the fist, but Drackson pulled in rhythm to keep him from getting any closer. “Ah ah ahhhhh…."

Icarus stopped. “I'm sorry, sir," he whispered. He continued to stand bent over, his torso held up by the coiling leash, and Drackson slowly pulled his tongue back out of the hole. He leaned in closer and washed the boy's scrotum with his tongue. Icarus curled his toes at the mind-altering pleasure. The dragon squeezed his penis again and his eyes rolled up into his head. Another warning shot hit the floor. He was so close, and he had barely been touched at all. As he rode the wave down, he felt the tongue graze the tip of his cock and wash the precut from around his head and the scaled fingers. Immediately he felt himself rising up again. Before he could get to the edge, however, Drackson's hand let go and grab at his side, dragging him towards the dragon's major frame.

“It is time." Without warning, the strong hands lifted the boy up and pulled him close. His ass was strategically positioned just above the well-lubricated dick poised to enter him. The two arms and tail wrapped around him tight and guided him down. Icarus's mouth dropped open, and he could feel that rod spreading him apart inside. He was gently but forcefully lowered down inch by inch. More and more of his hole was filled up until he had been fully hilted and could feel the heavy draconic balls cushioning his own.

“Oh yes. Very good. Now you have all of me inside you." Drackson gently rocked him back and forth as his thrusts began short and soft. “Fuck… oh fuck, you are deliciously tight." The room filled with the sound of patterned squelching, the dragon's cock penetrating the depths of Icarus's body. “I have a reward for your obedience, my dear." He let one hand go and reached for the table. Icarus couldn't turn his head to see what was happening. His tongue lolled out to the side of his mouth as he panted in time to the fucking. The hand reached up and shoved something soft and bunched up into his mouth. He recognized the taste as one of the dirty socks on the ground. Drackson must have picked them up while he was getting rimmed. One sock was shoved in his mouth as a gag, the other pressed over his nose with a hand covering the edges. “Breathe that in, boy… you can have me from both ends."

Icarus desperately needed a moment to catch his breath, so when the pungent aroma hit him again he was sent into outer space. It almost felt as if the boy had left his body and could watch himself lying in the dragon's clutches as no more than a worn plaything. Drackson's repetitive thrusts and the corrupted air in his lungs hypnotized him, melted his mind into a more maleable state.

“I'm so glad you came to me tonight," Drackson rumbled into his ear. His heavy breathing indicated how close he was. “You've no idea how hard I got when I saw your picture. I've been jerking myself from the very moment, working up a load of cum like you wouldn't believe. And it's all for you, my sweet thing." He kissed and licked at the boy's cheek. Icarus trembled and shuddered. His body could barely take any more pleasure. And it would not have to, for within second Drackson growled deep and bellowed, thrusting one final time as the pulses of semen rippled up through his cock and flooded the boy's insides. His free hand reached down and gripped Icarus's cock, jerking it fervently in time to the bursts of volcanic cum entering him. It was so copious that it squeezed past the dragon's cock and squirted out the edges of the stretched hole.

Those few tugs on Icarus was enough to send him into a full body spasm. He arched his back and ejected his own batch of repressed ejaculate into the air. It splattered across the dragon's sweat-drenched shirt and painted up his pec and arm. The orgasm like a lightning bolt shot through and between the two of them, one feeding off the other. Icarus lost all control of his body to the ecstasy and blacked out.

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When he came to, Icarus found himself still cradled against Drackson's body. They were lying back on the couch. Icarus found his hands free and resting on his bare stomach. The tail that once held him by the throat lay draped over his leg. Drackson's arms still held him close, but this time far more gentle. He also realized that the dragon was now bare-chested. The shirt lay soaking wet on the floor. Their bodies slid against each other from the sweat that had poured out of them.

“You're awake," Drackson said and kissed his neck. “How are you feeling?"

Icarus cleared his throat. “A bit hoarse," he replied.

“Yes, I had a feeling you would be." He indicated to the coffee table that held a cup of steaming tea and a bowl of vanilla ice cream. “Hot or cold?" Icarus gaped. He was used to being ordered to leave after his encounters - by contrast, this man rolled out the red carpet for him. “Ah," Icarus responded tentatively, “cold sounds nice." Drackson handed him the bowl which he took with a “Thank you sir." He took hold of a metal spoon sticking out of the ice cream and took a full scoop into his mouth. The cool sensation and sweetness did wonders to soothe his raw throat. Drackson took the cup of coffee for himself, sipping slowly so as not to spill any on Icarus's shoulder.

“How's your throat? Feeling better?" Icarus nodded. Drackson nuzzled behind the boy's ear. “Sorry if it got too rough for you."

“It's o.. I mean, it wasn't too rough for me."

Drackson chuckled and gave him a squeeze. “You're cute. It's okay to say 'okay'… I just have to let the beast out once in a while. Hope I didn't hurt you."

Icarus nodded. “I get that. But I'm alright."

“Good." They sat in silence. Drackson sipped his coffee and watched Icarus finish the ice cream.

“Thank you," Icarus said, “that was really nice."

“My pleasure." Drackson took the bowl from it and set it down, along with his cup. His hand returned to Icarus's body, finding their way all over the contours of his thin frame. “You are so beautiful," he rumbled and nibbled at his neck. Icarus cooed, pressing back into him. His limp penis suddenly sprung back to life. “Oh my." He reached down and slowly tugged at Icarus's rising member.

“Oh…" Icarus shivered.

“We haven't had enough quality time, me and your delicious staff. Shall we go again? I promise I'll be more gentle this time."

Icarus rolled over and looked deep into his eyes. “You don't have to… I can take it."