[ well. shit. this is the part where he should be protesting that he doesn't need anyone to thank him like that, he hadn't done it to get some kind of reward. but he can't explain that, can't grab the boy's hands or move out of their range. truth be told part of him doesn't want to. he's milked twice a day unless he's being punished or if they want him particularly aggressive for an upcoming fight, so his body is well trained by now to expect this. the gentle massaging of his sheath has him shifting restlessly, tail flicking this way and that as heat begins to curl in his belly, and he can't stop himself from parking out, spreading his back legs wider, as far as the hobbles allow, and stretching forward.

the boy's hands are so soft and warm on him, and without a trace of hesitation as they press and rub. he feels like he knows what he's doing, and it's not worth throwing a tantrum to get him to stop, so shiro surrenders, dipping his head to give permission.

it doesn't take long at all to get him worked up. his balls are hot and swollen, full after a long day of going unmilked, and he grunts softly as his mottled cock slides free into the boy's warm hands. ]