"Oh, sir," says Alexander, breathlessly, his thighs open, his cunt exposed -- "Please don't turn me out. I couldn't help it -- I was ravished by an older man. He touched me, and kissed my cunt, and -- he awakened something in me, a terrible hunger. Now I can't help it." This is a little playful, a little bit of a joke, though there is some truth to it. Burr did make him want to be pleasured, all the time. Burr can fuck him like no one else can.

He draws in a shaky breath. "Please, I need to be satisfied. One man could never do it -- if there were a crowd, perhaps -- a party, and you could spread me out on the table like a feast, my sweet cunt soaking wet under everyone's eyes. And you could let them indulge in me, as they please, and how could I be more defiled, since I'm already impregnated? They could spill anywhere they like. My face, my cunt, my--" and he does actually hesitate, here, because there isn't much to speak of, though he imagines so often what it will be like, "my breasts. A party favor, a gift to your distinguished guests. Maybe then, this hunger will be satisfied..."