"No. Hold on, it's still uploading. You're going to get so many DikTok followers from this!"

"That was incredible! You're a natural, Misha. We should have you try anal next, you seem old enough. Ever done that?"

Misha sits as a youth counselor outlines what is expected of him in exchange for food and shelter. The boy reluctantly agrees.

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The nights are getting colder and street kids everywhere must make winter plans. Misha opts for a youth shelter notorious for abuse. Still, its a small price to pay for a hot meal and clean clothes.

Boy clutched the bed sheets trembling, saying nothing, for nothing he could say would help his case.

The boy had tried every trick. He even attempted stoic silence once, swallowing his cries and clinging to composure until the punishment was over. This was a mistake. Nothing angered the man quite like insolent bravery. It denied him what he craved, what he sincerely felt he was owed: suffering.

The boy shut his eyes.

An hour passes, followed by another. "Dad?"
...
"Daaaad?"

Suspended for hours, it was getting difficult to breathe and the boy was beginning to panic. Suddenly, miraculously, he felt one of his wrists slip from the leather cuff.

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After a particularly intense orgasm, the child is staged to meditate alone. It helps focus his attention on the physical sensations in his body, post-orgasm. Bound meditation also helps ground his submission to pleasure. Pleasure happens, he does not own it or control it. Pleasure is done to him, he must only witness it.

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