“Such joy to see you writhe….”
He-Man’s set determination to hold out against the feather’s prolonged assault on his sensitized and swollen nipple is relentlessly worn down by the demon’s subtle skill. Soon the hero is reduced to moaning and writhing, unable to maintain the façade – and mortifyingly incapable of controlling his lust. His sweat-sodden body bucks up, arching high from the Frame as Azziel works on him, and his loincloth grows tighter and tighter, especially when the demon sets his other hand to a slow, steady kneading of its irrepressible contents……