ISBN: 9798280014596 (7 Ergebnisse)

Paperback. Zustand: New.

Taschenbuch. Zustand: Neu. Neuware - Noah wasn't broken when he checked in. Not yet.He was cocky. Fit. Well-spoken. A man who thought he could fake submissiveness for a fat payout and a week of 'clinical testing.' Some new neural therapy program, privately funded, offering an obscene sum of money for a short stay. Limited contact. No phones. Controlled environment. Minimal risks.He read the contract.He signed it anyway.After all, what was the worst that could happen The first twenty-four hours were uneventful. Clean white sheets. Soft-spoken nurses. A few behavioral assessments and mild sedatives that made his limbs feel like silk. They told him the meds would 'soften' his tension. Calm his stress responses. Help the therapy 'go deeper.' He didn't care. He slept like a rock that night.It wasn't until the second morning that he noticed something was wrong.He woke up soaked.Not with piss. Not yet.With cum.His briefs were drenched. The sheets beneath him stained in a slow, sticky leak that had dribbled out of him sometime during the night. No memory. No dream. Just. release.Confused and embarrassed, he stripped the bed and left the laundry outside the room, hoping no one would notice. But they always noticed.Dr. Vale did.Dr. Isabella Vale was beautiful in that way that made your gut tense. Cold, clinical, controlled. Her eyes held a certain calculated amusement, and her lips never smiled unless she already knew what came next. She wore her lab coat like it was made for war.She didn't mention the sheets during that morning's exam. But her gloved hand lingered a little longer when she adjusted his waistband. Her tone was just a little softer when she said, 'No need to feel embarrassed, Mr. Landon. This facility sees. all kinds of releases.'The third day, the cum leaks came again. And so did something else.He peed. Just a little. Just a dribble. Standing up. No warning. A wet stripe down his thigh. His face burned with shame. His cock, to his horror, hardened.…

Paperback. Zustand: new. Paperback. Noah wasn't broken when he checked in. Not yet.He was cocky. Fit. Well-spoken. A man who thought he could fake submissiveness for a fat payout and a week of "clinical testing." Some new neural therapy program, privately funded, offering an obscene sum of money for a short stay. Limited contact. No phones. Controlled environment. Minimal risks.He read the contract.He signed it anyway.After all, what was the worst that could happen?The first twenty-four hours were uneventful. Clean white sheets. Soft-spoken nurses. A few behavioral assessments and mild sedatives that made his limbs feel like silk. They told him the meds would "soften" his tension. Calm his stress responses. Help the therapy "go deeper." He didn't care. He slept like a rock that night.It wasn't until the second morning that he noticed something was wrong.He woke up soaked.Not with piss. Not yet.With cum.His briefs were drenched. The sheets beneath him stained in a slow, sticky leak that had dribbled out of him sometime during the night. No memory. No dream. Just. release.Confused and embarrassed, he stripped the bed and left the laundry outside the room, hoping no one would notice. But they always noticed.Dr. Vale did.Dr. Isabella Vale was beautiful in that way that made your gut tense. Cold, clinical, controlled. Her eyes held a certain calculated amusement, and her lips never smiled unless she already knew what came next. She wore her lab coat like it was made for war.She didn't mention the sheets during that morning's exam. But her gloved hand lingered a little longer when she adjusted his waistband. Her tone was just a little softer when she said, "No need to feel embarrassed, Mr. Landon. This facility sees. all kinds of releases."The third day, the cum leaks came again. And so did something else.He peed. Just a little. Just a dribble. Standing up. No warning. A wet stripe down his thigh. His face burned with shame. His cock, to his horror, hardened. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from multiple locations in the US or from the UK, depending on stock availability.…

Paperback. Zustand: New.

PAP. Zustand: New. New Book. Shipped from UK. THIS BOOK IS PRINTED ON DEMAND. Established seller since 2000.

PAP. Zustand: New. New Book. Delivered from our UK warehouse in 4 to 14 business days. THIS BOOK IS PRINTED ON DEMAND. Established seller since 2000.

Paperback. Zustand: new. Paperback. Noah wasn't broken when he checked in. Not yet.He was cocky. Fit. Well-spoken. A man who thought he could fake submissiveness for a fat payout and a week of "clinical testing." Some new neural therapy program, privately funded, offering an obscene sum of money for a short stay. Limited contact. No phones. Controlled environment. Minimal risks.He read the contract.He signed it anyway.After all, what was the worst that could happen?The first twenty-four hours were uneventful. Clean white sheets. Soft-spoken nurses. A few behavioral assessments and mild sedatives that made his limbs feel like silk. They told him the meds would "soften" his tension. Calm his stress responses. Help the therapy "go deeper." He didn't care. He slept like a rock that night.It wasn't until the second morning that he noticed something was wrong.He woke up soaked.Not with piss. Not yet.With cum.His briefs were drenched. The sheets beneath him stained in a slow, sticky leak that had dribbled out of him sometime during the night. No memory. No dream. Just. release.Confused and embarrassed, he stripped the bed and left the laundry outside the room, hoping no one would notice. But they always noticed.Dr. Vale did.Dr. Isabella Vale was beautiful in that way that made your gut tense. Cold, clinical, controlled. Her eyes held a certain calculated amusement, and her lips never smiled unless she already knew what came next. She wore her lab coat like it was made for war.She didn't mention the sheets during that morning's exam. But her gloved hand lingered a little longer when she adjusted his waistband. Her tone was just a little softer when she said, "No need to feel embarrassed, Mr. Landon. This facility sees. all kinds of releases."The third day, the cum leaks came again. And so did something else.He peed. Just a little. Just a dribble. Standing up. No warning. A wet stripe down his thigh. His face burned with shame. His cock, to his horror, hardened. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from our UK warehouse or from our Australian or US warehouses, depending on stock availability.…