canary in cage

Cecil reached into Isri's neck, still opening his mouth tentatively: "Isri, I was wrong, please let me go."

In the next second, Isri's voice was like the low roar of a demon, instantly chilling Cecil.

"If the young master is still so disobedient, I will use my method to make the young master obedient."

Sure enough, Cecil immediately bit his lips tightly and stopped speaking, and the corners of Isri's lips curled up slightly, pulling him up in front of his eyes.

Isri took off the gloves, raised his clean and slender fingers, and wiped away the tears that were squeezed from the corners of Cecil's eyes, with a low voice.

"Young master is so good."

Cecil didn't dare to look at Isri, so he had to close his eyes again. The bathroom was already filled with mist, and Yisri's forehead began to sweat profusely.

The smooth and fair skin was quickly displayed in front of Isri's eyes, but now Isri has no intention of admiring it at all, and his eyes are full of disgust and anger.

Isri picked up Cehir and threw him into the bathtub mercilessly. The unsuspecting Cehir accidentally choked on the water in the bathtub, and when he climbed out of the bathtub again, he was empty There was a loud coughing sound from the bathroom.

Cehir firmly grasped the edge of the bathtub with his fingers, frowned, and stared up at Isri, but when he saw Isri's cold eyes, Cehir turned his eyes elsewhere and dared not say.

This time, Isri was really angry.

Isri tied his hair with a ribbon and tied it back, loosened the bow tie at the neckline with his index finger, took it off, and then took off his coat and put it on the hanger.

Under the action of the water mist, the white shirt became faint, and the gauze inside was also faintly visible, the buttons on the neckline were unbuttoned, and the sleeves were pushed to the elbow.

Isri turned his back to Cecil, his shirt was tucked into his trousers, and his thin waist was fully exposed in front of his eyes.

There is no trace of fat on Isri's body, and the curve of the back is perfect. It is different from the sexiness of facing naked. This half-covered beauty is as if carved out of the hands of an artist.

When Isri turned his head around, Cehir abruptly withdrew his gaze, lowered his head and hugged his body tightly.

"Master, relax."

Isri kept his voice down as much as possible, his bottom line was about to explode tonight.

Cehir listened to Esri's words, and after making enough mental preparations, he took his hands away from his body. Esri was quite satisfied, and rubbed the foam into Cehir's hair after squeezing the foam from his hands.

At first, Cehir could accept Isri's behavior, but after washing his hair, Cehir showed resistance.

The smooth foam hit his body, and the cold touch touched his sensitive skin. Cecil was shaking non-stop, and his hands were tightly clenched together.

Isri couldn't find a place to attack, and frowned slightly.

"Master, stand up." The devil's voice sounded from beside his ears again.

Cecil opened his eyes abruptly, and met Isri's gaze: "What did you say?"

Isri remained expressionless: "The young master should have heard what I said."

Cecil's pupils trembled slightly, and he looked at Isri in disbelief: "Isn't this one washable?"

Yisli frowned, his young master was touching his bottom line again, Yisli breathed out a rough breath: "Master, stand up."

Cecil took a step back and grabbed the edge of the bathtub: "I don't...ah!"

Before he finished speaking, Isri grabbed the exposed hand and lifted him up from the bathtub, leaving only one leg still standing in the water.

Cecil was frightened, his legs kept flailing in the water, and the water splashed everywhere, and the hem of Isri's shirt was almost wet.

Isri freed his hand and hit Cehir on the back of the waist with a "slap". Cehir let out a pain and clenched his hands tightly.

"Master, you are too disobedient." Isri pulled Cehir down in front of him, his eyes were cold, and his voice was extremely cold.

Cecil subconsciously wanted to resist Isri, and the rationality in his head had been almost replaced by impulse.

"Uh...it hurts!" Cecil trembled violently, he could feel that the blood in his wrist was hard to circulate.

The movements of Isri's hands didn't stop, and his long and slender fingers walked on Cehir's body with foam on them, his voice was still cold: "Master, if you are more obedient, the pain won't be so painful."

Cecil lowered his head, his hands were firmly fixed on top of his head, and the ruddy side of his face made him go crazy.

The two remained in a stalemate for a minute. Before Sehir had been quiet for a few seconds, he raised his head, gritted his teeth and opened his mouth excitedly: "Don't touch that!"

Isri's hand rested on his lower back, and he raised his eyebrows to meet Cecil's gaze: "Shut up!"

Cecil froze for a moment, endured the fear in his heart, and then opened his mouth: "Isri! I order you, let me go!"

"Young master, I can't do it today, but tomorrow you can punish me as you like." Isri said in a respectful voice.

"You are disobeying your master's order!" Cecil said angrily with his eyes wide open.

Isri turned his head to the side, but was amused by the fear in Cecil's eyes. He didn't stop moving his hands, and continued to walk down the waistline.

"Master, let me defy you once today."

Cecil didn't expect Isri to say such a thing, and while his eyes were incredulous, his fear deepened a little.

"Isri, let me go, don't! Let me go!" Cehir could already feel Isri's hand swimming on his lower body.

Although Isri was deliberately avoiding the dangerous area, Cehir's legs softened instantly after being teased like this.

"Isri, let me go! Let me go!" Cecil's eyes were completely filled with fear.

He didn't want to, his mind was filled with the scenes of the massacre that year, his body was stained with disgusting blood, and he was buried among the dead.

He doesn't want to recall that scene, he doesn't want to recall that scene.

Cecil lowered his head, tears welling from the corners of his eyes, and his voice was terrifying: "Isri, don't touch me, let me go, I know I was wrong, let me go."

"Isri, I was wrong, I dare not..." Cecil's voice was very low, and his hands were trembling above his head.

Isri froze for a moment, loosened the strength in his hands, and gently put Cecil into the bathtub, a trace of reluctance flashed in his eyes.

As soon as Cecil entered the bathtub, he huddled in a corner and remained motionless, with his head buried in his knees and his hands tightly hugging himself.

Isri squatted beside Cehir, raised his hand to lift the wet hair on Cehir's forehead, and his voice softened.

"Master, it's time to wash up."