Part 4 of Chris Burns' 80s vintage journey into acceptance and celebration of ownership by his BDSM leather daddy Brick Samson begins with Chris taking more and more anal exploration and penetration via a variety of toys and tubes. Enemas grow to become double enemas, water, soap, wine, different solutions.

We Chris's face rubbing up against the tubes; his belly is distended, the background music grave, his insides are churning. Brick holds his instruments of passion and the narration becomes wordless. Chris explodes from his long piss slit as Master Brick looks down at the streams of musky male juice. "My man ... " murmurs the narrator in hopeful wonder, as Brick uses his thick heavy motorcycle boots on Chris' cock, balls and shaft. The lush cumload blissfully sticks to the boot. Next we see Chris covered in a spider web of rubber tubes. Total control. Chris begs to be filled, and he is. "Fill me ... fill me ... make me spurt. When you fall in love, you want nothing but nothing between you and him," he humbly ponders.

Chris shaves himself with a straight razor. He wants to be smooth, one with his Master. Chris kneels in front of him, facing the viewer. Symbiosis. Chris' hand grabs the shaft of his pristine cock, and his juice springs forth in thick, fructifying pools. Master fondles the cum and licks it. They are one and this journey's complete.