A sheen of sweat was glistening over his pale chest, the material of his toga clenched between gritted teeth while his eyes rolled back slightly, staring into his eyelids.

"O-Oh gods, oh gods I'm terrible..." Breadsy breathed through panting breaths, even as he couldn't bring himself to stop, the warm smell of his lover clinging to the sheets he was wrapped in absolutely drowning him in lust.

He knew he should feel guilt. Feel shame.

With his hand between his legs, hand wrapped around the soft flesh of his weeping cock, he knew that rationally, he should be mortified. You could be back any minute, and even though you were his lover, you were still his master, and therefore in control of him.

In control of him...

The thought tore a pitiful whine from his lips, hips jerking forward into his fist. "Oh... oh..." He whimpered in a series of hushed whispers, eyes glazed with lust as tears of sheer overwhelming pleasure ran down his cheeks.

Masturbating in your master's bed... Bad boy, Breadsy, bad boy... He thought, cheeks flushing a heavier shade of red as he imagined all the delicious things his lover would do to him when he returned from his meeting. He often warmed his lord's bed for him before the end of the day, had often been tempted by the salacious idea that had led to this...

And finally, his resolve had crumbled into this mess as he sobbed with sheer pleasure into the pillows, biting their covers hard between his teeth as he thumbed at the slit on his tip, smearing across the leaking cream there.

The creak of the door, however, had his hands flying away from his body, hastily wiping away his tears with his clean hand as he kept the other hidden beneath the sheets, smiling at his master with flushed cheeks. "H-Hello, darling."

"Your bed is warmed, my Lord" Breadsy croaked, legs shaking beneath the silken bedsheets. "How... How was your meeting?"