" Father," the boy said. "I'm sleepy and the pain really bothers me. Give me what I need."There was a lengthy pause and the father said, "Give the boy...your draught." As you command, Sire."He must have the equipment handy because I heard some noises that went on for a long time. Then, the boy was moved, and curiously I could feel my own body being moved too but the feelings were vague. I could not smell anything, but I could taste the bitter remedy that went into my throat. I thought now about. The real problem was being a compulsive masturbator. That meant seeing a lovely girl would drive me crazy and one way or another I’d have to spunk with my eyes on Her, even if that meant wetting my underpants in the canteen at work, or pressing up outside Her office as I watched Her through the window. It meant going everywhere in my rainmac with holes in the pockets, and whenever I could, in my wank-trousers, which were baggy, absorbent material to soak up the cum and holes in the pockets for. More

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