Letting out a muffled protest, Mike tries to pull away from the hand. He tries to keep himself from swallowing. But with how much he salivates in response to the salty substance on his lips and tongue, he can't help but to comply. He also can't help the look of fierce defiance he levels at the man. This went well beyond even a psychopath's treatment of a subordinate. Not for the first time, he dreaded that Hadad already knew the truth.

"You're a--" But whatever insult he'd intended to sling at the man was cut off with a sharp cry as his balls were squeezed. He wasn't just sensitive, he didn't just ache anymore. With all of that pressure and the irritation of the twine, it may as well have been a blow from a hammer. And that was mild compared to the handling of his cock. He fought to keep himself quiet, but he was yelling and sobbing after a few moments, tears leaking from his eyes. He tried to beg for it to stop, but each new touch ended it before he could get a full word out.