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The next few days I was not talking to him but he convinced me.Let me tell you all about Kabir. Kabir is a gym going muscled, handsome and tall hunk. He is six feet tall, fair complexion and extremely good sense of humor. He is a well-built guy with six pack abs, biceps and triceps. He had the best physique in the whole college and girls were after him. His tool is also quite thick and long. So, I and Raj were not able to fuck each other even after two months of being in a relationship. Like before, Raj once told me to go to the college bathroom while he comes after me. I went to the college bathroom and started to wait for Raj. After some time, a person came and he switched off the lights of the bathroom and started to unbutton my shirt. I thought it was Raj.I also started cooperating and he then removed my bra and started to suck my boobs. He pressed my boobs hard. We were making minimum noise and in between, he was also kissing my lips. He bit on my nipples and we enjoyed for some. I was drenched in sweat and the seat of the trainer was sopping wet. Worse, I smelled of musk. I had never been so humiliated in my entire life. I had had three back to back to back orgasms while this bastard watched and laughed! "My, my, my!" Master Thomas remarked. "You are quite a squealer, aren't you!" A squealer. I wanted to die. Maybe I should have taken my position with Master Paul more seriously. Or maybe I should have asked for my outright release when I had the chance. Anything would be better than the humiliation and degradation that I was facing now. But, there was no way to save my honor now, strapped to the saddle of this damned machine as I was. "I had no idea you would be such a slut," Master said with a condescending smirk. "But I gotta admit. You really sounded like you enjoyed yourself. 'Oh God - oh god, give it to me'," He mocked. His busy fingers opened my blouse, exposing my large, heaving breasts. Had I really said that? Was I a squealer? I wasn't that.
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Dad examined the paper for more than a few seconds, he grunted at thewords. I stood frozen, my father gave me a piercing stare and I couldfeel his rage reaching boiling point."Do you have any idea how much this will cost me?" He shouted at me inhis booming voice.I took a step back, trying to recover enough to look at him again but Icould only stare down at my feet."But it wont cost you Dad, Santa will have to pay for it," I said."No son, I have to pay for it. Every year you ask for something, everyyear its something cheap, but not this," Dad said, clenching his fist."The sooner you learn that there is no Santa, the better. People do notjust give you presents, you must work for them, and you must deservethem!" Dad shouted."B-but it's Christmas," I stuttered out whilst slowly raising my tearfilled eyes to look him in the face."What did you say?" Dad shouted louder than he had before, perhaps loudenough for the whole cul-de-sac to hear. He rose from the couch andraised a fist, his cigar.

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