Lance's breath caught. "What?"
"You heard me." Ansel's hand moved to his belt, undoing the buckle with a slow, metallic click. He unzipped his fly. "You're going to lick it clean. Every surface you contaminated. Every toy you touched. You're going to taste every trace of your disobedience. And you're going to do it on your hands and knees. Like the animal you are."
He pushed his trousers and briefs down just enough to free his cock. It was already half-hard, curving up against his stomach. He wrapped his fist around it, giving himself a slow, lazy stroke. "Begin."
The command left no room for argument. The humiliation was a hot, sickening wave that crashed over Lance, followed instantly by a jolt of arousal so intense it made his knees weak. He dropped to all fours, the cool hardwood floor biting into his knees and palms.
