The next slave was dragged to the grotto by the scruff of his collared neck - the only garment he was wearing other than an old jockstrap that had seen much better days, which was framing a rubber butt plug wedged in his rear. He was flogged all the way, his master cursing him as he thrashed the slave's broad muscular back, turning the pale skin a vibrant shade of red. On arrival, the scoundrel was tossed to the floor at Santa's feet, then with a kick up the ass, ordered to go mount him. He did, removing his plug first then sinking easily on the shaft and bottoming with a gasp - the lad clearly unperturbed by the rough treatment he'd received and relishing the fact that his guts were now stuffed by a piece of living meat instead of sterile rubber.

"Good!" the master yelled once his slave was installed and Santa had asked the question. "Has the rascal been good? Can't you tell! Well, listen - like most of the other members of The Wild Side, I don't waste any ball juice on my property when I'm here. That gets fired elsewhere when there is so much other flesh on offer. But I do slip my cock up him from time to time, and what do you think I found when I did it ten minutes ago?"

Santa clacked his tongue and shook his head. He thrust into the slave a few times whilst tormenting his generous sized nipples that were pierced and ringed with silver. The slave tossed back his head and moaned in delight as he writhed under the attention. "Another man's spunk!" declared Santa, who was equally delighted. "And a very generous portion at that, I might add. It's running like a river out of the scoundrel now that I've opened him up."

"Four men's apparently," roared the irate master. "Twenty minutes! That was all! I leave him on Ass Row for twenty minutes and the filthy slut takes four loads of cum. He obviously encouraged them by giving too good a ride... which makes him very, very, bad in my books. So make sure he gets the present he deserves."