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Summary
“How come my little nightingale has suddenly turned into a parrot?”, a mocking remark fell as the pressure on his throat remained uncannily steady, “Sing for me, Illuga, you do not get to speak.”
Illuga's fingers twitched helplessly, digging painfully into the thick fabric of his pants instead as he reminded himself that he wasn't allowed to flap his wings right now, that this was what had gotten him into this torturous position in the first place.
Illuga's misbehavior? Being horny for his beautiful lover. Lohen's punishment? Putting his boots to good use.