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A slut in training, gagged and bound, is left alone in the dungeon. His orders are clear: pleasure himself, but don't cum. He starts, his fingers playing with his hole, teasing it, pushing in just the tip, then withdrawing. His breath hitches, his body tensing as he fights the urge to push his fingers deeper. He's sweating, drooling, his body a canvas of pleasure and restraint. His moans are reduced to muffled whimpers, his world narrowing to the sensation of his fingers, the taste of the gag, and the scent of his own arousal.