02-08-2009, 08:57 AM
Faven blushed slightly as Fiero grabbed his hands, allowing the elder to place them on the wall. He bent his body back, his head bent low in submission, his pale, tight ass jutting out, and shivered from the cold sensation assaulting his back. "I-I'm ready, Sir." He whimpered; not in fear, but in embarressment, and anticipation. Anticipation for what, he couldn't be certain. 'After all, I'm only getting a back wash', he told himself, though the moans and screams he heard pointed to a different motive.