In the back of his mind, an atavistic sense of fear runs its nails along the sran's skull. Eternity in the land of the three afflictions had left him with a primal instinct to conceal what brought him joy, or comfort, or peace. Give them no leverage, show them no weakness, show them only desires they assume that you have, true or not.

He glances up for a moment, then closes his eyes and starts pumping faster. Even in his own mind, he cannot tell if this is him accommodating a more powerful player or giving into his own desires. Maybe it is both. He wills his mind to shut up and lets the force of his master's thrusts batter the thoughts into pulp.