penancememes | TEST DRIVE MEME #4

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TEST DRIVE MEME #4

ARRIVAL

You remember a dream.

Or maybe nightmare is more accurate.

It was full of hellfire nipping at your skin and a sensation of being pulled down no matter how much you struggle or cry for help. There's a voice that feels like it's coming from all around you at once. Contrasting with the nightmare unfolding around you, it's smooth as silk. It makes you want to listen with every bit of attention you can muster in the moment.

"Judgement has come upon you, but not to worry. It can still be undone."

The voice promises you redemption for your sins. It promises you a better life and everything you could ever want, if only you just stop struggling so much.

And so you do.

Everyone wakes up in the same room initially. The room is done up in red with a cushy bed, a window, an old TV in the corner on a desk, and a few Hieronymus Bosch paintings lining the wall. There's a bathroom to clean up in and any belongings will be sat around the room to be gathered later. There's a duffel bag provided for your convenience.

After feeling a sensation of falling or dropping onto the bed, characters wake up feeling like they've just slept for a week. Their body will feel heavy and stiff, they'll have a massive headache at first.

They'll quickly notice the list of their sins written with their blood on a bedside table on an old piece of parchment. This will mean the list is tied to them and can't be changed or tampered with. They'll also receive their device to connect with others and the network. It won't be anything terribly fancy. As a matter of fact, it looks like a very old Blackberry type phone.

Once characters are ready to leave the room, they'll head down long, winding halls. They're dimly lit and ominous feeling. They may encounter fellow sinners or demonic staff that will direct the newcomer down to the lobby to get their actual room key to settle in. They may be pushy, they may border on courteous. It really just depends on the mood of the staff at the time and how they're treated in return. Eventually, everyone comes to stairs that lead downward.

Once down to the lobby, you'll notice the front desk manned by a demon who looks bored out of its mind. To the side of him is the door to the kitchen where guests may help themselves. To the right is a small duty free shop that seems to have a surprisingly normal, expected stock of items. Look around a bit further, there will be a tiny bar tucked in through a corner door. It seems pretty well-stocked and best of all, self-serve if you want to get away from your demonic hosts for a bit. Of course there's some seating, bar games, and a jukebox tucked in the corner if you'd rather stay and socialize a bit.

Please note that all the songs on the jukebox are appropriately hell-themed. Hopefully Sympathy for the Devil is universally loved.

STAND YOUR GROUND

Prompt I

It seems like not long after everyone has either returned from the maze or arrived fresh to hell that the storms started yet again. A bit more sporadically and not the constant downpour of the previous month, but it's still blood and fire raining from the skies, along with claps of thunder and lightning strikes that seem far too close for comfort. Fortunately, there's not as much flooding this time. Unfortunately, a particularly loud clap of thunder and lightning that strikes close to the hotel seems to leave it and surrounding establishments in the dark. Quickly, the hotel becomes a cold place, urging all guests to to move to the lobby for some warmth.

A roaring fire will be going and there will be hot drinks and snacks kindly provided by the staff while they try to work on correcting the problem.

Eventually, some rather panicked goblin-like demons come rushing up from the basement. They're half-singed and dirty looking from their adventure, so it doesn't seem to bode well for the power returning any time soon. Guests who listen closely will hear the demons apologizing profusely for 'letting them escape' and much more worrisome than that, about how it looks like there might have been some tampering going on down there. The staff is quick to tell the demons to hush and go, not to worry the guests or let word get back to Lucifer.

Once that whole scene is squared away, the staff will be urging guests to volunteer and pushing them into a drafty, creepy basement with nothing but candles and flashlights to lead the way.

It's okay, they reassure, it's not that bad down there! The lights provided all seem to flicker dangerously though, almost completely going out at times, as you descend creaky stairs to a lower level. Apparently the demons are tired of risking their hide to get the power back on, but they're quite happy to risk all the guests'.

The basement is slightly flooded in some areas, bloody rain making its way through cracks in the foundation. It reeks of dampness and mold. There are things that skitter in the corner of your eye as you venture in further. Rats, bugs, and a few smaller beasts.

No one will be given more to go on than they're looking for a breaker box to reset, and hopefully, that'll get everything back up and running again. Unfortunately, there are so many twists and turns that it gets confusing after a while... How come the basement looks much bigger than it has any right to be anyway?

The basement is also jam packed with boxes just begging to be gone through. Most of them just seem to house an odd amount of clothing and what may be personal items left from previous guests, others hold decidedly more satanic and occult items. But if there's anything you're looking for in particular, from jewelry to a coat to a rad new walkman, you'll probably find it down here.

Keep going and you'll come across a room with a heavy steel door. If anyone should venture inside, they'll see a dungeon inside. There are demons chained to the walls in various ways, strung from the ceiling, or caged up that seem to be wasting away and forgotten. If they notice you, they'll try to plead with you to let them out, bribing you with information on Lucifer that no one else knows, but it's probably for the best you don't. There seem to be a few free spaces waiting for new additions after all... and besides, they've got to be locked down there for a reason, right?

Let them go against all better judgement and they'll most likely just rattle something off while they take off running as quick as they can.

Listen closely enough and you might hear tortured screams as they're presumably killed upon reaching the main floor of the lobby. It was probably inevitably, so don't blame yourself.

Anyway, moving on you keep going past the dungeon, and you'll finally find the room with the furnace and breakers to reset. It shouldn't take long to flip them back, but they'll continue to trip on and off for a while and may require multiple groups to make a return trek down to reset them until the demons finally correct the issues with the wiring that is causing these outages.

Speaking of issues with the wiring and what may have caused them... Hang around the bar or lobby enough, or around any area of the community, and you may hear muttering of something called The Veiled Order from beyond the gates. Some of the demons seem excited, others seem nervous. If asked, the demons may brush guests off. If drunk enough or given proper incentive, they may tell a story about a group of rebellious demons that Lucifer tried to cast out. They were damned to live in the burnt forests outside the gates, but sometimes, they still cause trouble.

Apparently, they thought they could be better rulers than Lucifer and were quite discontent with how he maintains Hell.

Some may say they're worried the Order is causing mischief by messing with the hotel, having had ample opportunity to sneak back within the gates. Others will laugh heartily and insist that it's a dumb tale to scare young demons, nothing more. Certainly nothing to worry about.

Another thing guests may overhear or bribe out of demons around the bar or club is talk about the call of infernal nightmares. If pressed for more info, the demons won't give much beyond the fact that it's a miserable thing, entirely miserable.

Prompt II

Apparently what the goblin-like demons accidentally set free are strange demons that possess fungi, dust, and dirt. They don't seem to quite be from this world, but they're called Coal Tars apparently. They're harmless creatures for the most part, but they do have a love of following around people with dark or sinister natures.

The staff will be offering a reward of a gourmet dinner of the guest's choice if anyone around the hotel will help to capture these little pests and bring them to the front desk. Afterwards, they'll be returned to the basement and locked away again.

Otherwise, people are free to ignore them or laugh at the people who can't seem to shake the little creatures following them around.

Careful though, breathing them in can make your lungs rot. Nasty way to go probably.

REACH UP HIGH

Prompt I
Warnings: cutting, blood, torture.

Whether you've been here for months or you're freshly arrived, your demonic overlord expects some participation. You can try and shirk the responsibility, of course. You can bargain your way out of it for a while. But eventually, you may find yourself trapped in a room just off the gym that's been fondly dubbed the torture room. It has all manner of equipment in there, along with an iron maiden even.

But don't worry about any of that right now. It probably won't be used.

You can try the door, but even with super human strength or every lock picking skill in the book, you won't be able to open it.

It soon becomes apparent what you're supposed to do soon enough when someone else is eventually shoved in with you. Both of your lists of sins will appear on a table that's been placed in the center of the room with two handy knives. You can choose to guard these or not care at all that they're on display.

"Know that honesty is a good place to start on your road to redemption. Sure, it can be terrifying at first, but that's why you've been given a partner in this journey. Pick up your knives and carve at least one sin into each other's flesh. Help in the journey to be candid with everyone you should meet here!"

The voice echoes all around you again, just like in the nightmare, and once again there's the pull to give in. This voice really does seem like it has your best interests at heart.

"If you need a bit of encouragement, we'll be giving it shortly."

It isn't a lie or idle threat either. The longer you wait to do what's been requested of you, the more shallow cuts that will appear on both of your bodies. Are you really prepared to endure this pain when giving in would be so much easier?

And more than that, are you willing to let another suffer along with you?

Eventually, the cuts will stop if you suffer them long enough, but you'll have failed this challenge and sustained more damage than if you'd just gone along with it. Satan will also be very disappointed in you.

Prompt II

"A generous nature is an important part of being a righteous person. Greed is a sin my Father frowns on quite a bit. What I ask you to do today is to go out and find a gift for that special someone or friend of yours and give them something to smile over."

With the items available in the basement and the shop in the hotel carrying a few new items, Lucifer would like to spread the good will of gift giving. It doesn't matter if you're not well acquainted with each other yet. You don't need to be! Anyone can spread cheer by giving a gift.

And if you don't, expect to be in excruciating pain for a few hours, and struggling for a breath. If you can't share a gift, then you don't deserve to share all that oxygen, do you?

FOLLOW ME DOWN

Prompt I
Warnings: Alcohol and drug abuse, potential non-con/dub-con.

With all the sinners, new and old, the bar will be lit up with activity and absolutely bustling with guests and demons alike. Food and drinks will be readily available and provided by hotel staff (although they might not always know what humans eat. What do you mean, you don't like fried kitten?), music will be blaring, and overall, there will be an energy to the atmosphere that's absolutely contagious. Even if you aren't typically inclined to linger at these sorts of events, there will be a certain pull to stay and have a bit of fun.

You may not get much of a chance to have that in hell after all. So one drink won't hurt, right? Nor will one more after that.

There will also be every sort of party drug available that might tickle your fancy. There's no harm in experimenting, is there? You're already in hell and the staff is handing it out and so helpfully showing you how to use it, or recommending a type that would suit what you want.

You've presumably done your atonement for the day, yes? So cut back a bit, let loose. Hell might be pain and torment, but it's also a nonstop party in the bar.

There's even a brand new stage and a karaoke machine for those feeling brave!

Ask the staff demons very nicely and you may even get less scrupulous drugs as well. Things that will convince your fellow damned souls to tell only the truth for a fun prank, or perhaps even potions that will make someone so enamored with you, they won't take their eyes, or hands, off you. How dare they give you the cold shoulder earlier, right? You've got them now.

There are also tables set up for all sorts of gambling and various bar games to entertain yourself with. Since currency as most are familiar with it doesn't quite exist down here, most of the demons seem to be accepting bits of your soul, if you're in a gambling mood. You may also get pulled into a fun game of strip poker against one of your fellow guests for a few succubi that are having a night out.

Relax and enjoy your night. Coming here and facing your sins is the hard part, so surely you deserve to have a little fun, right?

Prompt II
Warnings: sex, aphrodisiacs, potential dubcon/noncon, potential kinks.

The club within Penance has always offered many options for debauchery, but now it seems they're stepping things up a bit. There are themed rooms for sex machines (the same that were present at the carnival) that can be controlled by a demon or a partner. If asked, they'll gladly set you up on stage to put on a performance for the entire club.

They won't side eye you for any other kink you ask for either, however depraved it is.

But the succubi are handing out potions again, that can be taken willingly or not. The purpose of them is to strip away all of your inhibitions... or in certain cases, your mind as well as your will. It will leave those who take the potion as a perfect little pet or slave for someone.

It doesn't matter if you're generally strong-willed or not interested in submitting. You'll find yourself wanting to please someone until it's the most important thing on your mind. Maybe until it's the only thing on your mind. It doesn't even matter if you generally hate or adore the person you've attached yourself to, you'll find yourself sinking down on your knees anyway.

This is the perfect time to play out all those daddy kinks, domination and submission scenes, or perhaps a bit of pet play. It doesn't matter what theme of the game you choose, you're suddenly all for it no matter what.

Because you just want to make someone happy, even if what makes them happy is hurting you as much as pampering.

MISC.
Thanks for joining us for our fourth test drive meme, sinners! Reserves are now open for the upcoming app round on August 1st

If you want to speak with Lucifer, you're free to text or pray to him right here

If you let a demon loose in the dungeon, reply here to see what tidbit of info they revealed!

If you have a comment, suggestion, etc. please go here!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It was such a soft, lovely expression, and there was something about this place that brought out the worst in Frank Castle. The truth was, Frank didn't have an answer to that soft question. But he did have a thumb against Ronan's lower lip, more precisely than the brush a moment before, dragging it down when he let his mouth part like that. What a lovely sight.

"You okay?" he asked. They were close enough that his voice could be quiet, heavy, just between the two of them.

Ronan's teeth scrape his lip, not quite near Frank's thumb. Maybe it's not a conscious movement. It could just be a reaction, instinct, the drink.

His mouth feels dry and he swallows, but his eyes don't leave Frank's face.

"Yeah," he says. "Do you wanna go somewhere less public?"

That's the thing that catches in his brain as out of the ordinary, in the end, the thing that makes him have some conscious realisation that something has gone completely sideways. But he shuts that alarm bell off and decides he doesn't give a shit.

It was something of a leap, but Frank wasn't going to question it just then. No teasing flirtation--but also nothing blatant about it either. Fran carefully didn't assume that Ronan wanted anything more than a bit of quiet and privacy in the doldrum of the club.

"All the way back to the hotel? Or I think they have some quiet rooms." At least, Frank had passed closed doors that weren't marked no admittance, which suggested they were private and available to anyone that wanted to use them.

He didn't want to take Ronan somewhere he was uncomfortable though. Not when he'd just drunk something that neither of them knew what it did.

Ronan pulled his face away from Frank's hand and looked down at the half-empty drink in his hand. This was a terrible idea and he knew it, but he'd had a rash of terrible ideas lately. Did it matter? He doubted anyone was getting out of here anytime soon.

He downed the rest of the drink and looked back at Frank. "The rooms here are closer," he said, shrugging a shoulder. It didn't matter to him. Usually the noise didn't bother him, but he found himself wanting to be away from it for the time being.

Frank was definitely sure drinking the whole thing was a bad idea, given they didn't know how a half glass would have an effect, but it was done now. He cupped the back of Ronan's neck and tugged him along.

It was a firm touch. He didn't want Ronan getting away from him, protective and quietly possessive of the boy. This was no time for him to go wandering off making stupid decisions.

It wasn't hard to find an unoccupied room. That there was a bed in there was of no particular consequence or reason to comment. That Frank automatically flipped the lock on the door once they were inside wasn't either. Frank trailed the hand that had been on Ronan's neck down his spine.

Ronan, maybe surprisingly, didn't pull away or fight Frank's direction. Instead, he let the older man guide him along. Somewhere inside his head, urged on by the drink, he's almost grateful for this, for Frank's hand strong on him, for that air of possessiveness that comes over them.

He hears the lock click and is grateful for that, too. He doesn't want company. He just wants Frank, alone and focused on him. Though he's obviously still dressed, he imagines Frank's fingers tracing the twisting lines of the tattoo on his back, not just this touch.

He turns to face Frank again, reaching with one hand, but not really sure what he's reaching for or why.

Frank drew Ronan in. He knew the shape and sense of what was happening, but like the first few times with Prokopenko, it chewed at him, sank claws into his lungs that ripped guilt into him. Was he stopping? No, and that was the worst, most unforgivable part.

He drew Ronan in, but he was also moving. A steady shuffle to the bed, because they both knew where this was going. They did, didn't they?

Frank's thumb found Ronan's mouth again, tracing the lower lip, dragging it down. He pushed Ronan gently down onto the bed but kept his thumb on his mouth like it belonged there.

Ronan still doesn't fight him, all the way to the bed, all the way til he's sitting on it, looking up at Frank with his piercing blue eyes. Despite all his anger, his intensity, there's softness around the edges. He's almost pliable here under Frank's hands, thanks to the drink and his own recklessness in actually drinking the whole thing.

"What do you want me to do, sir?" he asks, mouth moving against Frank's hand. Even he doesn't know why he says it; all their interactions up to now have been filled with Ronan's barbs and bristles. But he wants to listen, for once in his life. There's some weird need to make Frank pleased with him, so he grasps onto the admission of authority perhaps because it's so far out from his norm.

The obedience and respect was notable. It wasn't the snide little tones that Ronan tended to take with him, and there was something about the immediacy that both bothered and thrilled Frank. He felt very much like the Lieutenant he'd been, once upon a time. Someone worthy of respect and admiration, of that quiet devotion. And Ronan's mouth looked sweet and pliant, when it moved like that, without dislodging Frank's thumb.

"Be a good boy."

The words came out rough and heavy. Frank took his hand away from Ronan's mouth and put them on his belt instead, working it open as he watched the kid.

Ronan makes a sound that might turn into a scoff, because he's still Ronan. So he struggles with it, this idea of obedience, even as something inside him tells him he wants it.

His eyes drop with Frank's hand, following the movement. He licks his lips, entirely subconsciously, then tears his eyes away from Frank's hands and back up to his face.

"What if I don't?" he asks, careful, calculated. He's going to do what Frank says, he already made that clear. But he can't help wondering the answer.

Frank arched a brow. He pulled the belt free but didn't do anything particularly threatening with it. Finally, after a prolonged silence to just let Ronan think about that, Frank said, "We'll find out if it happens."

There was a struggle in Frank. Part of him wanted desperately to dote and coddle, to make this good, especially when he knew that Ronan wasn't entirely in his own head right now. To worship, a little, as much as Ronan would let him. But there was another part, equally loud, that thought Ronan might need a little firmness and discipline.

In any case, he cupped his jaw again, thumb on his mouth. This time, he slid it past his lips, against his teeth and then his tongue, pressing gently.

Another time, Ronan would absolutely take him up on that. This time, the drink overrode his normal anti-authority reaction. His eyes lingered on Frank's belt for a moment, imagining.

Then Frank's thumb was on his mouth again, past his lips, and he forgot about rebellion entirely. He dropped his jaw just a little bit at the pressure, tongue swirling up and over Frank's thumb before he closed his mouth again, sucking lightly, careful of his teeth. It would have be easy to bite down, antagonise, but he didn't. For once.

"Good boy," Frank sighed. He let Ronan just suck for a moment, the pressure and slickness a pleasant example of what he could do. And then, gently, Frank started to move his hand. It would be easier to use his fingers, but this looked good, and he got to cup under Ronan's chin.

It was a good sight, sparked Frank's imagination easily. But he was content to go slowly, until Ronan made any sign that he wanted things a little more fast and loose.

"That's it, good boy."

Ronan tried to pretend that he didn't care what Frank told him, that none of this mattered or was anything more than something he'd done on a whim, but he wasn't even convincing himself. His breath caught at Frank's words, stirred something inside him he would make a note of to not ever analyse later.

He sucked harder again for just a second, cheeks hollowing, then moved his face away so he could say, "What do you want?" It's not an accusation or a barb, it's a genuine question. Let me do what you want. Ronan, of course, had his own set of wants, but that wasn't what he was about right now.

Frank wanted a lot of things. Partially because he was a little drunk and Ronan was able, willing, subtly eager. Partially because he'd given up this pretense of propriety at some point, and if he was going to want something he was going to let himself want it.

Mostly, he wanted a lot of things because Ronan looked hungry and his mouth had looked good.

He took a step back from him, slowly tugging his jeans open. He reached down and grabbed one of Ronan's hands, bringing it up to the fly--and the obvious bulge beneath.

Ronan, for his part, did feel hungry for it, rushed and sudden as all of this was. He hadn't exactly meant to solicit Frank in the bar, but now here they were and he'd already de facto agreed to...whatever. Ronan was never one to back down from much of anything, and whether he realised this was some weird kind of roofie thing or not didn't matter anymore.

He didn't need to be told, encouraged. He let long fingers trace the shape of Frank's erection through his jeans, then let those fingers pull the zipper down slowly, looking up at Frank as he did so.

Ronan wasn't very good at waiting, at drawing things out. He didn't have the practise he'd need to at that, so he didn't really fuck around about it. He brought his other hand up to make it easier, shoving Frank's jeans and underwear out of the way enough to pull his cock out. He takes a minute just to feel him with his hands, though, almost curiously but not exactly tentatively.

The eagerness and enthusiasm made up for any inexperience. Frank wasn't exactly rolling in experience himself--well, for this part he was. Once, he'd been a stupid teenager with a fake ID and the world at his fingertips. There had been a lot of touching and not much else.

Something in him yearned, but he pushed it aside. Ronan was eager, but Frank wouldn't make him do anything he didn't want to. So that was a handjob, right now. A handjob and those heavy-lidded eyes, and that mouth.

"Christ," he sighed. His head tilted back slightly and he ran a hand over Ronan's head. "That's it. That's a good boy."

Ronan flicks his gaze up to Frank just to watch his face for a second as he moves his hand along the man's cock. Ronan's usual sneer has shifted into a smirk now, his eyes gone from hard to hungry. Not many people see him like this, especially not here in hell. Why Frank? He's not sure he wants to think about that.

Frank's hand on his head, combined with the encouragement, finally cause him to use more than his hand. He dips his head and lets his tongue run over the head of Frank's cock, not in a particular hurry, swirling in a circle. He takes a breath, mostly to give that second's worth of pause, then actually goes down — not that far at first.

Frank groaned softly as Ronan leaned in and put his mouth to work. It was easy to cup the back of Ronan's head and help guide him along, help him keep any sort of pace when he seemed content to just let it happen however it was going to happen.

He wasn't in a hurry either, but it was wonderful to get something like a steady rhythm going. Easing in and out of Ronan's mouth, watching the way his lips slipped over him, how he spread.

"That's it. There it is."

Ronan moans softly around Frank's dick, enjoying the feel of it in his mouth, and enjoying Frank's hand on him, guiding him. It's a strange thing for him to actually consider enjoying, but here like this, he can't even lie to himself about what he feels.

He glances up at Frank again and picks up the pace, taking more into his mouth. He doesn't have a lot of practice with this, and he keeps one hand at the base of Frank's dick so he won't go too far and choke.

It's a whole feeling around him, and it was hard to not jerk his hips forward. He wanted to be messy and mean, a little bit, but only because he'd had a little bit to drink and only because Ronan looked so deliciously pliant.

But Ronan was controlling that pace, how much he wanted and how much he could take, and the slick speed of it all. Frank let him control it. He rubbed his fingers against Ronan's scalp.

"Take your cock out," he said, voice heavy and dense with the order of it. "Don't touch yourself."

Ronan's breath hitches around Frank's cock and his rhythm falters for a second. He recovers and doesn't stop, but he wasn't expecting the order, not really. Okay, yeah, he'd said "sir" or whatever, and he'd pretty much indicated he was going to do as he was told for once in his life, but...he still hadn't really expected that.

Even more, he wouldn't have expected to just obey, unquestioningly, without argument or smart remark.

What if I don't? he'd asked. But now he obeys anyway, fumbling his jeans open with the hand that isn't on Frank's cock, pulling his own already hard cock out. The difficult part is letting his hand move away again, not stroking himself, not doing...anything except still moving his mouth on Frank. He comes up for a second to breathe, but he doesn't stop.

Something about the easy, immediate way that he was obeyed made Frank's cock twitch with eagerness. He groaned, and his hips did jump forward this time, just a little, to chase how Ronan pulled away to grab a breath.

Then he reigned himself in, held still again. He pushed Ronan back to admire the mess of his mouth and the admirable line of his body, down to his cock jutting out from his lap.

Yes, that's what he wanted.

"Lay back." It was the same quiet, unavoidable tone. Do as I say. Don't talk back.

Ronan resisted at first, enjoying the feel of Frank's cock in his mouth. But there wasn't too much room to argue with Frank's insistence and that tone in his voice, so Ronan relented, leaning back a little at first. He supported himself on his wrist for a minute, bracelets sliding down to rest against his hand. He looked up at Frank, open mouthed, pupils blown, obvious even in the dim light of the room.

He tilted his head the other way. His mouth opened a little further, like he was going to talk back. In the end, he didn't do it, shutting his mouth too quick like he was afraid if he didn't then he'd say something he regretted.

He dropped his hand away from Frank finally and leaned back again, supporting arm letting him slide down until he was on his elbows. Then those moved too and he was laying back against the bed, hurried breathing obvious with the rise and fall of his chest.

Frank let Ronan take his time, and admired him hungrily on the way down. He stayed where he was, standing over him, cock out of his jeans but otherwise neatly contained. For a moment, he let Ronan stew in compliance. This was a patience thing. Ronan didn't strike Frank as a patient person, mostly because Frank had only learned patience through warfare and they were too alike that way.

When he couldn't stand it much more, he reached for the boy. Having him lay back wasn't the best for stripping him, but that was half the fun too. Tugging. Rearranging long limbs. Ronan's body was compliant, but he was still a firm, lean boy, and Frank liked the opportunity to press his hands into him, feel the warmth of skin and shiver of breath.

When he got Ronan's cock out, he was a little surprised he was uncut, but he didn't say anything about it, instead he lazily pumped his hand.

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