Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

The Champion [Sekah & BlueAmbient]

Astra drags him up by his hair. Karim feels like he's being scalped, whimpering pathetically as he tumbles and trips after Astra, often just dragged by his hair. A good deal of brown curls end up coiled around Astra's fingers.

He's tossed against the bench, and an oof leaves him, barely stopping himself from his chin impacting the wood. He cowered there, and you wouldn't think the boy was brave, except that he'd stuck by his convictions to the point that he allowed this cruelty on his own body in an attempt to save a man's soul.

He looked small. He looked thin, and helpless, his shoes turned inward so the toes were touching, a habit of his. he often twined his toes together just like that when he was scared, when Astra was using him.

He fought nothing. As Astra made the cock ring torment him, a wet, soft whimper leaving Karim, he twined his arm around him. One hand ran upwards, seeking a nipple and finding one. He stroked and pinched it into a hard little point noticeable even to his calloused hand.

He could certainly feel Karim's heartbeat; feel that it was racing.

Karim was more scared than usual, which made him more sensitive even than he usually was, flinching, shivering, twitching over every slight touch. All the stories he'd read of jealous men who turned to murder, who walled up women in high towers and never let them leave, made him frightened and yearning. He wished, for once, Astra would hold him. Would let him hold his hand. Something normal.

Something - something lovers were supposed to do. Even if they weren't that.

Thinking of that, of how much he wanted to hold Astra's hand, Karim slid his own up his tunic, reached up, and lay it on top of Astra's. His grip wasn't resistant, didn't try to pry him off or claw him. It held his hand, Karim's palm sweaty with teenaged nerves, gulping for breath between the assault to his nipple and the vibrations massaging, terrorizing his aching cock.
 
Astra thinks nothing of Karim's hand placed over his own. Never does he consider them to be lovers; Karim is his to do with as he pleases, a toy to him. But one he is very possessive of. Any thoughts of Karim lusting after another man make Astra angry. The hand pushing down Karim's pants succeeds in shoving the fabric off his hips, down his thighs. He uses his foot to push them down the rest of the way, and a kick to Karim's ankle makes the boy step out, and widen his stance.

Astra reaches to his belt, to the oiled pouch he keeps there. None have ever asked about it, but surely Karim had figured it out quickly over the past couple weeks. Astra slides two fingers into the opening after loosening it, coming out slick with lubricating salve. Those same fingers deftly find their way into Karim's body. Rough, insistent, those fingers dig into Karim, stretching him with impatience. It's not a gentle preparation, but recently, Astra has found he can fuck Karim longer if the boy's insides are slicked. Astra growls into Karim's ear, and his hand on his chest slides higher to wrap around his throat from beneath his shirt.
 
Karim stares up at the foliage, staying quiet despite the animal urge to scream, the human urge to cry for help. People were about today, groundsmen, and he had to be silent. He trembled, as he often did. It had become a routine. The man stomped down his pants and kicked his ankles in a sign that he had long since learned - Karim stepped out, widely, on both sides, giving Astra perfect access to him.

Karim was obedient to his parents. He was obedient to his tutors. He was obedient to God.

He was obedient to Astra too. The only time he'd ever deviated from submitting to his will was the night he had an important alchemy placement test in the morning, one that had a big impact on what kind of universities he would go to once he reached eighteen. He'd begged Astra to simply let him sleep, and Astra had punished him for it. He remembered being curled in a ball at Astra's feet, trying everything he could not to truly, actually scream at the top of his lungs, shaking like he was having a seizure, one hand out and touching Astra's ankle, the only thing he could reach right then, the only thing he could do to plead.

The hand Karim is trying to hold slides up into a possessive grip on his neck. That thick, gruff fist nearly encompasses the whole expanse, Karim's fingers resting lightly on top of it, as if soothing him. As if soothing the man who was hurting him.

His other hand kneaded the bench, which seemed sturdy but a bit clumsily made, like a child had built it.

He didn't beg, he didn't plead, he didn't argue. Though twitched and shivered under every move Astra made, he never condemned him. He'd seen plenty of people treat slaves like this; his own family, even. He understood the injustices he was suffering for. He didn't argue their veracity.

Those fingers speared him, but at least they were slick. At least Astra usually prepared him now. It hurt less, and he didn't usually bleed when he did that. He was glad he hadn't angered him to the point of forgoing lube, and making him bleed in his underwear again. He'd had to throw out so many pairs before the maids saw.
 
Astra didn't like when Karim was quiet, even though he knew the boy's reasoning. But Astra doesn't care if they get caught. Yes, he'd moved them to to this copse. But if they're going to get caught, he'd rather they already be in the act. More reason for him to face death. So Astra bends his head, biting Karim again, this time on the back of his neck. He growls, putting pressure on Karim's hole as he adds a third finger.

Karim has become so obedient to him, no longer arguing, frequently making excuses to cover for why they often bathe together, or why Astra frequents Karim's room. Astra never seeks to make up excuses, simply growling or telling the other servants to mind their own business. He's not as hostile toward them, but still keeps his distance, refuses to allow them to tell him what to do.

Astra bites again, and again, until he can pull a sound from Karim. When he does, he smirks and curls his fingers inside the boy. Those fingers scrap nails against Karim's inner walls as Astra removes them. "Still so fearful, boy. Good. Fear will eventually break your spirit." Astra pushes down the front of his own pants, hands moving to shove Karim down, bending him at the waist so both his hands are on the bench. Astra's large hands grip the boy's hips, keeping him from moving forward as he sinks his thick cock into Karim's body with a groan. Even with his rough preparation, Karim's body still hugs his cock like a tight glove.
 
Astra bit him, and bit him, again and again, Karim not sure what he was looking for, until finally Karim yiped, like a tiny dog.

He eased off after that, so he guessed that was what he wanted - for Karim to get loud.

Karim, stung by his casual cruelty, like a schoolyard bully, taunting him, let go of his hand and slid it back through his shirt, gripping the wood.

He should know better by now - he really should. Maybe because he was a Master, maybe because he was his revenge ticket, Karim didn't know, but Astra would never truly see him as a person.

Karim kept trying to remind himself, it's just that he couldn't imagine it. He couldn't imagine looking in a person's face and seeing emptiness there, evil there, an enemy there. He didn't feel that way with Astra, even with all that he'd done. Even though Karim hadn't done well on his Alchemy exam and probably couldn't get into the kinds of schools his sister did.

Karim wasn't capable of dehumanization.

Still so fearful, boy. Good. Fear will eventually break your spirit.

Karim frowned sadly, not replying since he avoided arguing with Astra, and looked down at the bench, the angry repeated bites on the back of his neck bold and obvious, even through the soft brown curls.

He was afraid, he was, and that was because Astra could easily ruin his whole life. His and everyone's here. Make Karim a public figure of mockery, ruin his future, make his parents distrust his judgment and possibilities to the point of cutting him off from their funds. And that was only if he didn't decide one day to take a more direct route to what he claimed he wanted, and end Karim's life.

It was a lot to think about, too large for Karim's silly head.

He was bent over by Astra's rough hands. How many times? How many times had he been bent or splayed, or thrown over furniture? How many times now had he been taken rough and ragged on the floor, giving him carpet burn? How many times during reading lessons had Karim ended up sitting in his lap, stifling his cries as Astra used him? He couldn't remember; he'd lost count.

So this would just be one more, then. He thought. He knew he could get through it. He'd had a lot of practice.

But he still couldn't help but shake as a cock replaced fingers. His own cock was in painful bliss, tormented for the last half hour with teasing desires and no stimulation. When Astra forced in, a long, low moan left Karim. A sloppy rope of precum slid from the head of his cute, small prick and, because Karim's legs were spread, fell mostly on Astra's pants and thighs. The boy shivered in bliss at the feeling, then quivered in fear at the result, whimpering in anticipation of the punishment.

Karim's insides, like him, had come a long way. Their first few times, he'd been so impossibly tight, it might even have been a bit painful for Astra to take him. Now he was a comfortable fit, just the right size, as if his guts had been designed by some artisan to be the perfect sleeve for Astra's cock.

The beautiful boy might not like it, but there was no denying, as Astra's brutish hands gripped those slender, dainty hips, he wore the mantel of catamite very well indeed.
 
Astra doesn't wait anymore. Hasn't for two weeks. Karim doesn't get adjustment periods, no stillness once Astra is buried. That long low moan makes Astra shudder. It's satisfying to know that even as he hurts the boy, Karim does get a sick sort of pleasure from the frequent fucking. Astra smirks, hips moving at a steady pace. Each thrust drives deep, hard enough to rock Karim forward slightly. The slap of skin on skin is muffled from outsider ears by the trees.

Astra doesn't really notice the precum on his thighs and pants, focused instead on the sensations of Karim's tight body. His hands grip hard, likely to leave bruises on the boy's hips. Astra enjoys the way the muscles in Karim's back contract every time his cock sinks in. He grins, leaning over the boy to bite at his ear. "I can't hear you, boy. I want to hear you." The words are growled into Karim's ear through the teeth biting it. Astra has been much more straightforward with what he wants from Karim, but it's always demands, or embarrassing mockery.
 
Karim's prick is rigid and blushing bright rose with pleasure. His head nods down with each rough push of Astra's, almost like he's saying yes, yes, yes, over and over.

He says yes, too. When Astra orders him, as is usual between them, Karim is obedient, to a point. He stutters out, "Yes, Astra," breathing hurried and rushed, and then lets the natural whimpers and moans he was suppressing spill like music from his lips, though he never, ever lets them get higher than someone nearly on top of them could hear.

He suffers, and it's on his face, but he doesn't cry anymore. He takes Astra's cock, with the exception that he still mistakenly stays so tense, like a pro - through trial and error, and copious practice, he knows about where to put his body and how to breathe into it.

Not a day has gone by since the night Astra came without rape, for Karim. Even things as awful and brutal as that become routine, with time.
 
Astra chuckles, the sounds coming from Karim sending shivers up his spine. He hates when Karim muffles his voice, hates when the boy is silent. Those sounds he makes, the whimpers and moans, make Astra's cock ache and throb. To know that even with his brutality, Karim can still make those sounds.. Astra growls, releasing Karim's ear from his teeth and straightening behind him.

One Hand slides up Karim's back, into the soft curls of his hair, pulling his head up. Astra holds tight, knowing the boy can't close his mouth to hide his next sounds with his head up like this. His right hand lifts from where it was gripping Karim's hip, rising into the air. Then Astra brings it down sharply in a slap to Karim's ass, hard enough to leave a handprint. "Your voice is so pretty when I fuck you, boy. And so pretty when you're in pain." Even after a month, Astra still refuses to call Karim by name, as if that would create some kind of attachment to him.
 
Astra releases his ear, and stands tall behind him, lording it over Karim's bowed form. He towered over the small boy, whose hip was aching from his bruising grip, whose hole was aching from his rough fucking.

They have a rhythm, now. Karim is - almost used to this. He settles his heartbeat and settles himself, only mildly curious about the hand that rises from his hip. He guesses it's going to end up tangled in his hair.

He doesn't see it rise in the air, looking down at the leaf-litter and bed of late-spring flowers far below, until it crashed down hard on his flank, his ass rippling from the force. He yelled - really yelled, one of the first times he'd done that, and slapped a hand over his mouth. He jumped so high that he unintentionally fucked himself on Astra's thick cock, and cried out over that, too. A massive, appealing red handprint in the exact shape of Astra's fist adorned the beautiful, tight swell of flesh. It stood stark and cherry in the air.

Karim's heart pounded. His cock leaked another thread of precum, once more onto Astra's knees and pants. They could be caught. Astra didn't usually . . . hit him . . .

It was like a code between them. A code of politeness. He didn't beat him, or cuff him; smack his face or punch him. He was cruel, but not in the sense of battering the boy black and blue.

Karim whimpered deep in his throat.
 
Astra smirks, chuckling when Karim yells, then groans loudly when the boy pushes back on his cock as he jumps. That jump also brought Karim mostly upright, so Astra wraps his arms around Karim, holing him up. The new angle lets Astra peer down over Karim's shoulder to see his cock bulging out the boy's abdomen. He'd certainly admire the red handprint later, but seeing Karim's abdomen bulge is making his cock throb. Astra also notices Karim covering his mouth, and growls. "What did I tell you about hiding your voice?"

Astra's hips buck harder, arms like bands of steel muscle wrapped tight around Karim and preventing him from moving away. Astra grunts, feeling heat pool in his groin as he approaches his climax. His thrusts increase in speed, hips rutting rapidly against Karim's ass. Another moment passes, then Astra bucks hard, burying his cock. With a heavy groan right next to Karim's ear, Astra spills his hot seed into Karim's body. He grinds tightly into the boy, riding out his orgasm and effectively plugging his seed from dripping out yet.
 
What did I tell you about hiding your voice?

Karim quickly yanks his hand down, shamefacedly, glancing over his shoulder into Astra's eyes in apology. Astra isn't looking at him. He whispered, "Sorry," his nerves on fire, all the little hairs standing up, aware of every sound around them, alert for any movement, afraid someone was going to come see what the Master was screaming about in the forest in the early afternoon.

He follows Astra's eyes, and looks down at the small, moving hump in his stomach where Astra's cock was deforming the taut, rosy skin. Seeing it makes the pain from the stretching hurt more, and he whimpers nearly into the shell of Astra's ear, from the way he's hulked over him like a great dragon, and runs his thumb over it, not really marveling, more trying to soothe the sharp, persistent ache he's gotten well-used to, unless something reminds him it's there, like now.

He felt the starburst of hot liquid inside him and felt Astra's cock throb as he came, heard him groan so close to his ear that the tingles translated to full-body shudders down Karim's body. He was close to coming himself, barely inches away, but hadn't quite made it to that sweet oblivion yet. He was so worried about being caught, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears, that though his cock was also throbbing, and ready to slide over the edge, his anxiety was keeping his lust from overflowing properly. No matter; if Astra kept the ring activated for a few more minutes, Karim would join him. If he didn't, Astra could turn off the ring, and Karim would have to walk back inside in relatively tight pants with an obvious, straining erection. Karim had heard that referred to once as the walk of shame.

It certainly felt like it, when he'd done it before.
 
Astra can feel the shudders moving through Karim, pressed as he is up against the boy's body. He doesn't miss the fact that Karim hasn't reached his own orgasm yet, either. Astra has figured out that when Karim orgasms, his body clenches and his muscles tighten up. So in a very much selfish want to feel that tightening, Astra raises the vibrations on the ring. His arms keep their tight hold of the boy, hips rolling occasionally to grind himself into Karim, adding extra friction and pressure.

Just as selfishly, Astra bends his head to bite Karim's shoulder again, wanting to hear more whimpers and moans. If Astra is unknowingly training Karim's body to react to certain pains as pleasure, all the better for Astra. His mouth play against Karim's shoulder, teeth digging into skin. As an extra encouragement, Astra's right hand, splayed across Karim's chest, pinches and toys with a nipple.
 
Astra was mean.

Or perhaps very nice, Karim wasn't sure.

Because he turned up the vibration on the ring, the stimulation that seemed almost like it was inside his cock, not a toy on the outside but the very flesh his cock was made of being milked and caressed down to the insides and the essence.

His legs were trembling so much he could barely stand with the vibrations that high, they were too high, nearly at the max level that awful shopkeeper had put him too in the shop. Karim's eyes became glazed and far away, the sharp, digging teeth gnawing cleanly up the dip of his shoulder only adding to the pleasure. He looks down and gasps. He doesn't think he's ever seen his cock that swollen, after such a long teasing watching Ahmed, after such a high setting on ring, with even the previously achy grinding inside him starting to feel like pure pleasure, he began to moan pitifully.

Astra toyed with the point of the little strawberry nubs on his chest, pointed so high surely he could feel them, even through his leather-tough skin that was scraping that sensitive skin - but he wanted that skin to scrape -

- he wanted Ahmed to touch him -

- no -

- he wanted Astra to touch him . . .

Imagining those calloused hands, tough as leather from all those years of fighting and training and wielding weapon stroking his small patrician's cock, toying with his moist, pink head, pumping it in times to these anxious jerks of his hips, he came right then, mewling like a needy kitten, toes curling, his hips jittering and jerking and milking Astra's cock inside him, his eyes rolling, splashing the bench and a rose bush behind it with his pearly cum.

He fell forward against the bench, getting cum on his waistcoat, boneless and limp, shaking with the power of his orgasm. His legs couldn't hold him.

Hardly daring to ask, biting his lip several times and peeking over his shoulder at Astra. "Do you - can you forgive me?" he finally dared, his expression a mixture of hope and fear. He was sweaty and his sides were heaving, he was panting so hard. He was hoping his punishment for his crush would be confined to this.

Though it may be a bit premature if Astra did, since Karim's crush was hardly extinguished, now was it?
 
Astra groans as Karim reaches his orgasm, the boy's hips jerking and pushing back against him. Astra's hips roll and push to meet those movements, enjoying the way Karim's muscles contract around his cock. When Karim slumps forward to catch himself on the bench, Astra's hands move to the boy's hips, steadying him without a thought. Those blue eyes narrow when Karim speaks, briefly meeting the boy's eyes before moving to watch his sides move with his heavy breaths.

"Mm." The short hum is neither a yes, nor a no. Astra is essentially choosing not to answer the question. However, he removes himself from Karim's body, letting the boy rest on the bench. Astra is barely breathing harder than if he had done a simple jog from the manor to here. He lifts his hands to push his hair back from his face. It had been shaggy when he had arrived, but now it nearly touches his shoulders. As though he had nearly forgotten, he then slides his thumb across his ring to turn off the cock ring.

"I'm going back to the house." Astra tucks his cock away, buttoning his pants. With one more look at Karim, and a smirk, he turns and leaves the copse of trees. He crosses the lawn, bare feet making no noise on the grass. In the manor, he heads for his chambers, intending to locate something to eat. It had rapidly become apparent, once Astra's body had adjusted to full sized meals and the rich flavours, that he was frequently hungry. He never ate more than he needed to satisfy himself, but he often visited the kitchen in search of simple snacks, usually fruit. Once, just to spite one of the maids who had complained, he ate an entire raw onion right in front of her.
 
Astra hums, noncommittal, in response to Karim's question.

It's not a yes, but - at least it's not a no. Karim, ever the optimist, hoped this would be the worst of his punishments.

He'd taken to keeping extra handkerchiefs on him at all times, and he pulled out several now, trying to scrub up his cunt and his cock, his poor waistcoat. By the time he had finished, Astra was long gone, but Karim was peckish, and flustered, and wanted to go towards the only place he truly felt safe in his own home anymore: the kitchen.

He arrived rapidly, and slid open the door to step inside with little fanfare. He didn't expect much issue if he just - cooked up an impromptu snack for the staff. They deserved it.
 
Astra had found an apple and a small mesh sac of pre-cut carrot sticks on the icebox, and is standing leaned against the wall by the kitchen window, his back to the door. The apple is already finished, the core sitting on the windowsill for now, and half the carrot sticks are gone. The other servants had grown tired of Astra eating whatever left over food he could find, so they had taken to making it very obvious which snacks he could have by putting a small box with his name on it in the icebox, and keeping it filled with snack type foods. As little as Astra respects the other servants, he'd taken the hint.

Astra is watching a pair of servant children playing outside the window, chasing each other with stick swords. He doesn't seem to notice Karim enter the kitchen right away. Though, the crunching of the raw carrot sticks in his mouth does make his ears focus on that sound instead of any potential footsteps. He's also lost in thought, though his blank expression wouldn't hint at it. He'd noticed recently that Karim fought him less and less, complained less when he submitted to Astra. No doubt it had something to do with the frequent use of the lubricating salve now, but that couldn't be the only reason. Surely the boy hadn't acclimated to the distress of Astra's savagery to the point of finding pleasure in it? Astra is certain Karim's orgasms can be attributed to the cock ring. Astra turns it on every time now, selfishly to make sure Karim's body tightens up with the addition of the pleasure.
 
Karim froze in the doorway, the other kitchen workers and Sara in the corner kneading some dough and fixing both the master and his most wayward slave with a wry expression. Oh - he needed to ask him -

Keeping well back from Astra so he wouldn't startle him, he said, "Astra - "

He swallowed hard.

" - Um, what time do you want to do your reading lesson today?"
 
Last edited:
Astra turns his attention away from the children playing outside, looking toward Karim when the young noble calls his name. The quiet sounds and conversation of the kitchen staff had helped to keep Astra from startling. He's very slowly getting accustomed to having casual sounds around him that aren't common to the gladiator's cells, but he still startles on occasion. Astra finishes his carrot sticks before replying, leaving Karim standing there under his intense gaze.

"Now is fine." Astra picks up the apple core and tosses it in the nearby compost bucket; the last time he'd left food scraps laying around, someone - probably Laura - had put it in his bed. He then sets the mesh bag beside the sink and strides toward Karim. Astra stands very close, head tilted to look down at the young lord. The kitchen staff has stopped what they're doing and are watching Astra very closely. Astra glances at them, scowling. Then he walks around Karim, fully expecting the boy to follow him. "Let's go."
 
Without another word, Karim led the man to his personal sitting room. He saw no sign of Szymon, who had been quite hurt by how forcefully Karim had laid down the law in relieving him of his duties as his manservant and insisting he spent virtually all his time with his newborn and his wife. Karim felt so guilty about it he barely dared to visit the mother and child, which before this month he'd done near daily. But it meant he was doing a lot of things himself he'd never done himself in his life.

He was getting better at it.

In his sitting room, he pulled out the primer he'd borrowed from the schoolmasters who taught the children on the grounds, and the slate. As usual, he tried to sit two chairs next to each other at his imposing mahogany desk overlooking a bay window with cotton puff clouds and the deep azure sky.

He doubted it would take long for Karim to be pulled into Astra's lap, though. He patted the cushions of the chair next to him, though, and still smiled tremulously up at Astra.
 
Astra sits beside Karim, in the other chair, legs spread and right elbow on the armrest. He drops his chin onto his fist to stare at Karim. Previous reading lessons had ended with Karim in his lap, on his cock. Astra never locked the door to Karim's quarters anymore, but he's certain the young master had given explicit instructions to his staff to never enter without knocking.

Astra stares as he waits for Karim to start the lesson, and he does offer minimal participation; the occasional attempt to understand the symbols, letters, on the page. How long would Astra's limited patience last today? As usual, his eyes keep drifting across Karim's body. He'd just fucked the boy less than an hour ago, but that doesn't matter. They'd gone multiple rounds before. Astra had fucked Karim to exhaustion more than once, had had the boy pass out following orgasm a handful of times. Fucking him right now again would make no difference.
 
"Here," Karim said, a bit flushed with victory that he'd taught the lesson from the book so well. "Do you want to try sounding this out?"

He picked up the slate, and wrote out C A T. "Try it!" he urged Astra with a bright smile. "C - c - c - "

His big brown eyes looked up at Astra earnestly, showing him the slate.
 
Astra narrows his blue eyes at Karim's enthusiasm, but decides to indulge the boy anyway. His eyes move to the slate, and he folds his arms over his chest. "C.. at." He presses his lips together, trying not to feel like a child. Really, what use is reading when his end goal won't have letters? But it gives him something to make the days pass a little less monotonously. Astra can grasp the basic rules of the written language, but gets easily confused when letters start making different sounds, especially when paired with other letters.

"We did this one yesterday, Karim." Astra sounds bored, but not yet frustrated. So at least he's seemingly willing to keep going. It's not as though he has anything better to do than spend time with the young lord. But as always, his mind wanders to more carnal pastimes.
 
"Okay," Karim said, a bit wrong-footed. "Is there a letter that begins with the C- sound that you'd like to learn to spell, Astra?" he asked him, the afternoon sun shining on those pretty curls, his soft brown eyes looking up at Astra guilelessly.

He tilted up the slate.

"O-or you could try writing it!" he said, and offered the chalk.
 
Astra half glares, but then smirks. A word he wants to spell? Going by what little he knows of how letters sound, it should be something like.. Astra takes the chalk and shakily writes three letters on the slate. C-O-C. With a low chuckle he tosses the chalk onto the desk, grinning. There, that ought to get a reaction out of the boy.

Astra watches as Karim turns the slate around to look at it, and finds himself admiring the way the sunlight plays in Karim's hair and creates shadows and highlights across his face. Next time he fucks the boy outside, he'll pay more attention to how the light makes his skin glow.
 
Karim swallowed hard, and fidgeted in his chair. Blushing brilliant red, below the word, in pretty patrician handwriting, Karim wrote, C O C K. "You were only off by one letter, Astra," he told him. He swallowed hard. But he should follow his student's interests - he knew he was always more interested in a lessen when it was about something he cared about it.

"You remember the A- sound, from last week? Do you - do you want to try that one, Astra? For, um - a-ss." he looked up at him, shy but hopeful the lessons were starting to get through, and red as a tomato, despite all the lewd things Astra had done to him. Astra didn't talk much, and encouraged Karim to talk even less, so Karim didn't often have to say vulgar words.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom