Masonic Folks - Apprentice Tyler - Chapter 2
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I know you shouldn't lie, and I know it's not crappily smart to lie to an imposing figure like tormentor Figata. Still, when he asked if I did or did not like men, I reflexively told him I didn't. Of course, that was wrong; he knew what tormentor Kamp had got out of me during my earlier conversation with The Order. …More than just the truth. And yet, years of stashing my longest-held secret reflexively took over, even in the face of a Grandmaster. tormentor Figata, his wizened face etched with a dubious look, asked me to stand. He had me eliminate my pants, then suit, tie, and finally my collared shirt, leaving me down to nothing but my undergarments. An internal subjugation guided me thru the motions, led by Figata's voice. It took charge when I was unassured and, as tormentor Figata's palms uncovered to me, it was far more fair than I was. My erection, revealing how much I was revved on by being ordered by senior men, pressed out against my outfits and stained the front with precum. tormentor Figata brushed his palms soon throughout the apex of my member, and just that slight mobility sent a spark coursing thru the nerves of my body. It made me whinge with need. How superb it felt, I thought, to have the truth coaxed out of me. He went behind me, and reached his arms over mine. tormentor Figata's stony palms wrung my pecs, groping them rigidly enough that when his palms relaxed, I felt the ghost of his power still in the flesh. I shuddered. The way he kneaded me, crushing the muscle entirely in his large palm, then working his grasp delicately towards the apex of my nipples, sent waves of delight coursing thru my body. It was so exciting — being manipulated like an object, like a toy. me to unveil secrets to someone of such great power, who seemed to know exactly how to bring my figure to the edge with practiced motions. My legs were weak, and my knees trembled. tormentor Figata looked at me with that warm, greeting smile and said nothing. He just kept touching my chest, squashing and kneading my pecs, periodically using a thumb to thrust firm on one nip or another. With words of guideline I understood before I could even think about them, I found myself on all 4s on top of the Master's cleared wooden desk. He traced the lines of the desk with the apex of his finger as he ambled behind me. With his palms upon me, he instructed me to stretched my legs just a tiny wider. I complied, my figure wiggling with awakening as he pulled my lingerie down. Those same strong palms that nursed my front, now wrung and kneaded my rear. "Beautiful," he murmured. It felt superb to be complimented, but nicer to be played with. Mr. Figata brought his face inbetween my cheeks. He lapped at my entrance, and the plunge of his raw tongue put me in a sort of trance — I leaned back against him, instinctively. He obliged, working a mitt underneath my buttocks and holding me stable as he attacked my hole. tormentor coaxed me into a madness with each lap, periodically fingerblasting me as he caught his breath. tormentor Figata's tongue enticed me into a rhythm that made me leave behind both time and place. When the last vid glided out of me, I nearly collapsed onto the desk, overloaded with pleasure. He rose up above me — I heard the clattering noise of his unbuttoning belt as it dropped onto the floor. He took his dude meat in one hand, tugging himself slowly, then dipped it into my hole. I had never felt such pleasure. His thick manhood, like a heavy muscle, rammed and crushed into me. It made my balls draw up cock-squeezing inside. My figure conformed wordless orders of submission. I could only grunt as he drove into me, and I permitted myself to be spread. Each time this tormentor thrust into my ass, I felt as if I were going to fly apart. And with each thrust he found, thru some divine , my guts — that tiny node of nerves tucked up inside of me that bombarded me with sensation. As his tempo quickened, he rolled me over onto my back. It was the very first time since he brought me to the desk that I got to view at his face, which glowed with purpose. He porked me over and over, and permitted me to stroke my own rock-hard dude meat alongside him. I didn't realize that this was The Order's lesson guiding my hand, for I was so lost in the waves of delight that no thought came to me at all. I just desired to cum. And I desired tormentor to spunk inside me. As if to feast my wordless admission, tormentor let out and jacked off his own much fatter dude meat alongside mine. We exploded, together, and anointed my internal hips with collective seed. We laid like that for a short time, joined in collective carnality, sweaty, and spent. He ran his frigs thru my hair, cleaned me up with a nearby towel, then clothed me properly. I left tormentor Figata's office with a far nicer understanding of The Order, myself, and the value of truth. It was one of the finest days of my life—and it was still but one of many lessons The Order, and my fresh masters, had designed for me. After what tormentor Figata instructed me, I was prepared to face them. All of them, and as frequently as possible.
I know you shouldn't lie, and I know it's not crappily smart to lie to an imposing figure like tormentor Figata. Still, when he asked if I did or did not like men, I reflexively told him I didn't. Of course, that was wrong; he knew what tormentor Kamp had got out of me during my earlier conversation with The Order. …More than just the truth. And yet, years of stashing my longest-held secret reflexively took over, even in the face of a Grandmaster. tormentor Figata, his wizened face etched with a dubious look, asked me to stand. He had me eliminate my pants, then suit, tie, and finally my collared shirt, leaving me down to nothing but my undergarments. An internal subjugation guided me thru the motions, led by Figata's voice. It took charge when I was unassured and, as tormentor Figata's palms uncovered to me, it was far more fair than I was. My erection, revealing how much I was revved on by being ordered by senior men, pressed out against my outfits and stained the front with precum. tormentor Figata brushed his palms soon throughout the apex of my member, and just that slight mobility sent a spark coursing thru the nerves of my body. It made me whinge with need. How superb it felt, I thought, to have the truth coaxed out of me. He went behind me, and reached his arms over mine. tormentor Figata's stony palms wrung my pecs, groping them rigidly enough that when his palms relaxed, I felt the ghost of his power still in the flesh. I shuddered. The way he kneaded me, crushing the muscle entirely in his large palm, then working his grasp delicately towards the apex of my nipples, sent waves of delight coursing thru my body. It was so exciting — being manipulated like an object, like a toy. me to unveil secrets to someone of such great power, who seemed to know exactly how to bring my figure to the edge with practiced motions. My legs were weak, and my knees trembled. tormentor Figata looked at me with that warm, greeting smile and said nothing. He just kept touching my chest, squashing and kneading my pecs, periodically using a thumb to thrust firm on one nip or another. With words of guideline I understood before I could even think about them, I found myself on all 4s on top of the Master's cleared wooden desk. He traced the lines of the desk with the apex of his finger as he ambled behind me. With his palms upon me, he instructed me to stretched my legs just a tiny wider. I complied, my figure wiggling with awakening as he pulled my lingerie down. Those same strong palms that nursed my front, now wrung and kneaded my rear. "Beautiful," he murmured. It felt superb to be complimented, but nicer to be played with. Mr. Figata brought his face inbetween my cheeks. He lapped at my entrance, and the plunge of his raw tongue put me in a sort of trance — I leaned back against him, instinctively. He obliged, working a mitt underneath my buttocks and holding me stable as he attacked my hole. tormentor coaxed me into a madness with each lap, periodically fingerblasting me as he caught his breath. tormentor Figata's tongue enticed me into a rhythm that made me leave behind both time and place. When the last vid glided out of me, I nearly collapsed onto the desk, overloaded with pleasure. He rose up above me — I heard the clattering noise of his unbuttoning belt as it dropped onto the floor. He took his dude meat in one hand, tugging himself slowly, then dipped it into my hole. I had never felt such pleasure. His thick manhood, like a heavy muscle, rammed and crushed into me. It made my balls draw up cock-squeezing inside. My figure conformed wordless orders of submission. I could only grunt as he drove into me, and I permitted myself to be spread. Each time this tormentor thrust into my ass, I felt as if I were going to fly apart. And with each thrust he found, thru some divine , my guts — that tiny node of nerves tucked up inside of me that bombarded me with sensation. As his tempo quickened, he rolled me over onto my back. It was the very first time since he brought me to the desk that I got to view at his face, which glowed with purpose. He porked me over and over, and permitted me to stroke my own rock-hard dude meat alongside him. I didn't realize that this was The Order's lesson guiding my hand, for I was so lost in the waves of delight that no thought came to me at all. I just desired to cum. And I desired tormentor to spunk inside me. As if to feast my wordless admission, tormentor let out and jacked off his own much fatter dude meat alongside mine. We exploded, together, and anointed my internal hips with collective seed. We laid like that for a short time, joined in collective carnality, sweaty, and spent. He ran his frigs thru my hair, cleaned me up with a nearby towel, then clothed me properly. I left tormentor Figata's office with a far nicer understanding of The Order, myself, and the value of truth. It was one of the finest days of my life—and it was still but one of many lessons The Order, and my fresh masters, had designed for me. After what tormentor Figata instructed me, I was prepared to face them. All of them, and as frequently as possible.
Added: 2022-12-25 • Views: 29 • Duration: 29:57
