In the dimly lit chamber, our master takes center stage, his authoritative presence commanding attention. He surveys his domain, eyes landing on a selection of eager disciples, their gazes fixated on the prominent bulge in his trousers. With a casual flick of his wrist, he issues his command, "Bate for me." The room erupts in a symphony of flesh on flesh, each devotee losing themselves in the rhythm, their hands gliding up and down their engorged lengths, all the while maintaining eye contact with their master.