Eliason, alone with his thoughts and his throbbing erection, begins a tantalizing dance of self-denial. He grasps his shaft, feeling the pulse of his need, but deliberately keeps his touch light, a maddening tease that has him gasping. He imagines firm hands, a wet mouth, anything but his own, yet he persists, prolonging his agony. His hips buck, seeking more friction, but he cruelly denies them, prolonging the sweet torture. His balls tighten, but the release he craves remains elusive, leaving him aching and unsatisfied, a slave to his own teasing torment.