Now he could feel it, the slicked up finger pressing against his hole. Now he jerked sharply, pulling against the bindings for one frantic moment, before Tseng took his cock into his hot, wet mouth. The sound he made, as his freshly pierced cock was enveloped in that sweet, slick heat, was low and long. Barely, just gently did he rock his hips upwards, his breath catching in his throat.

The finger penetrated him, slow and careful, and by instinct he clenched around it. The resistance didn't last long, not with Tseng's mouth wrapped around his cock like that, and inch by slow, low burning inch did the other man's digit sink into him.

Once more a sob escaped him, and then another, so sweetly followed by a groan of pleasure, horror and aching frustration as he began to squirm, working his hips against Tseng and the finger pressed inside him. "Stop, stop, stop..." So contrary was the pleading to how his cock leaked precum, or how his body tightened and worked against his hand.

"Please don't, don't do this... don't do this to me..."