The boy, isolated in his haven, succumbs to his primal urges. His hand, slick with pre-cum, glides along his engorged shaft, his hips undulating in rhythm. His grunts fill the room as he works himself into a frenzy, his body tensing as he nears climax. With a guttural moan, he reaches completion, his leche painting his torso in a sticky, white canvas. He savors the taste, his tongue lapping up the evidence of his solitary indulgence.