So for a while hell remained heaven for the unabashed masochist. The steady transfer of heat from the fire to his body accumulated, slowly cooking him exactly as intended. His hair began to shrivel a little. He poured sweat continuously, his first drippings before the fat in him began to melt. Yet the effect of this autonomic cooling was negligible.
He could feel his skin searing. Even the half of him furthest from the coals flamed on with a residual pain worse than any sunburn. And of course before this could even begin to fade he was rolled back around for yet another fresh application of that eventually deadly heat and pain. Hellish torture this was to be sure, and Boy-toy reveled in it as it grew ever more intense.
Here was a challenge worthy of him! All the metal touching his body
