‘Ha-aaaah! Uh?yeah?that’s good?yeah?G-G-God! Oh fuck?that’s right?l-lick it r-real clean, boy. Jeeez ain’t cum like that for weeks. Yeah, you�...�re real good?’ With one hand he slowly smeared the wet, sticky mixture of saliva and cum over the teenager’s face. He breathed heavily. ‘Real good, boy?’ he fiddled with something under the bench then lifted the end piece of the top up until it supported Chuck’s head and neck once more. Chuck gasped with relief as the strain on his neck muscles was. He could rail against being a peasant as much as he wanted - itdidn't make it any less true. Now though, after telling himself he wasBurt over and over again, maybe a hundred or a thousand times, he didn'tfeel the need to struggle against it.For now he was Burt. There was no point denying it or feeling bad aboutit. It's just how it was. It was the only thing that could be true untilLady Ann came back from London.Burt paused, frowning.Until Lady Ann came back from London...He had thought of her. More

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