Dr. Lee watches me for a moment. I’m pretty sure he can’t quite believe I’m using that method on a beta.
This time it takes longer. The purring begins to work after a few minutes. Salt takes one deeper breath, then another, then a third. I can see the tension easing, if only slightly. His fists loosen, his fingers slowly uncurl. After another minute of my steady, deep purring, Salt finally lets out a small, miffed snort, as if angry at himself, then reaches for his zipper and pushes his pants down along with his boxers.
For the first time, I see him completely naked.
Wow.
Well. He really is beautiful! I forget myself and stare, because I didn’t expect this. The image of him in a prison jumpsuit is still firmly ingrained in my head, and it’s hard to judge anything in those. But it turns out his body is perfect, lean, and incredibly attractive.
Salt embodies a kind of gothic beauty, with the strong contrast between his pale skin and black hair, highlighted by blue dye.
His skin is flawlessly smooth, except where his web-and-spider tattoos run along one side of his body. They start at his head, barely visible beneath the mostly shaved right part of his scalp, then trail down his neck and arm, slip below his ribs, over his hip and thigh, along his calf, all the way to his foot, winding around his ankle in black, flowing patterns of intricate webs filled with crawling insects.
He has a slim waist and narrow hips. His groin is smoothly shaved, his penis soft, which is hardly surprising under the circumstances.
Without a word, Salt sits down on the strange table and spreads his legs, resting them on the metal supports. He tilts his head back and to the side, with his eyes trained neither on me nor on Dr. Lee, his gaze fixed on a corner of the room.
Looking at his body arranged like this, I can’t help but admire its dancer-like quality. Salt is slender, with defined abdominal muscles and lightly, pleasantly sculpted biceps and chest. His long, elegant legs and those large, dark rose nipples hold my gaze. His intimate area is now fully exposed, everything laid out in front of me, naked and defenseless, and I feel like my blood is about to explode in my veins.
I’m fully hard in my pants, and there’s nothing I can do about it—zero control.
At that exact moment, Dr. Lee turns and looks at me, his eyes landing squarely on my crotch. The bastard doesn’t even tryto hide it! This is all a damn script, and he knows every step, tracking it meticulously.
I want to cover myself somehow, but it’s hard to hide an erection when you’re not exactly modestly endowed. When I get hard, everyone fucking sees it.
Once again, that same peculiar smirk appears on Dr. Lee’s face.
These assholes control the situation by design. Maybe, from a purely goal-oriented perspective, it’s not entirely stupid, but it’s definitely not ethical. No fucking way.
Dr. Lee wheels over a machine and takes hold of a probe. To my shock, the probe is enormous, like some massive dick, thick, gray, and elongated.
Dr. Lee rolls a condom over it and coats the tip with lubricant.
Salt looks at the probe, and I see something close to panic in his eyes.
Dr. Lee moves the probe closer to Salt’s perineum, then adjusts the chair with a lever so that Salt’s intimate opening is tilted upward and fully exposed to our view.
How is that gray monster supposed to fit into that tiny place now revealed to the world? Salt’s entrance is a miniature pink star, visible between the pale roundness of his ass cheeks.
Everything in me protests against such a sinister invasion!
With professional precision, Dr. Lee presses the lubricated probe against that little star.
Salt lets out a sound of reflexive fear, and his hips jerk, trying to pull away.
"Stop! Don’t push that in there!" I raise my voice, feeling absurd. "You can’t put that in him," I say firmly, stepping toward Dr. Lee. "I won’t allow it!" To add strength to my energy, I send a warning AO sound.
That same unpleasant smirk appears on his face again.
"I also have a smaller probe. We can try that," he replies surprisingly smoothly and accommodatingly, then adds, "but I need to ask for future reference, so I know which probes to use. Have you had anal intercourse before, Salt?"
Silence falls.
The situation mirrors my own from earlier. Now Salt is being forced to reveal something private.
"No." His voice is barely a whisper. His heart is racing like a frightened bird’s.
A wave of heat washes over me, and I want to curse, though I don’t even know why.
