Felih shivers yet again, feeling the heat spreading from his cheeks, up to his pinned ears and down his neck, and the heat at the root of his cock is spreading as well. The arousal grows stronger with the alluring whispers, the press of the man's palm to such a sensitive area of his body, making him squirm as his cock jerks, a small spurt of pre landing on Azwel's hand and making Felih feel even more mortified.

Gods. Here he is, tied up by a mad genius notorious for his obscene experiments, and he's hard. It certainly doesn't help that the man starts to strip and show off a muscled, broad physique that is exactly Felih's type, and the bulging erection in those smallclothes has him biting his lip and averting his gaze. Nope, no, he can't look. If he looks he'll be more tempted and more aroused and flustered, and...

He swallows hard gives another useless squirm, finding himself just as immobile as the first time he tried, and realizes he's quite trapped. For all the rumors and all the madness, at least Felih knows that he's not likely to feel pain... If he can just endure this extraction process, maybe he'll be freed.

Quick, distract! He has to distract himself somehow...

"What are those markings?" he asks instead, voice a mumble as he keeps averting his gaze. Maybe it'll be less embarrassing if he just... doesn't look at his captor. As if that would somehow make Azwel unable to see the lurid state he's in.