With a flick of his wrist, Cbt-Louis secures the weighted stone to Carl's engorged cock, the cold stone a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body. Carl's breath hitches as the weight pulls him taut, his balls tightening as he fights back a moan. The room is silent save for the ticking clock, each second an eternity as Carl endures his penance. His hands clench into fists, knuckles white, as he battles the urge to disobey, to drop the stone. His cock pulses, a traitorous response to the torment, as he stands, a statue of suffering, in the name of atonement.