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Summary
“We’ve got five or six just like this in stock, and another handful in training,” cigar-guy says. “They’re mostly just for fucking, and they’ve got two to three commands drilled in their heads, depending on the boy. This one...” he trails off and looks at the little card affixed to the boy’s chair. “Ah yes, this one can give a hell of a blow job, knows how to clench its ass and milk you, and... ah, never mind, looks like they only managed to get two commands into this one’s empty little head.”
He grabs the boy by the hair and tips his head back. “Smile, sweetheart,” he says. “This fella might buy you. Isn’t that nice?”