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He was naked. Exposed. Vulnerable. Before he had entered the room, he had a name, an identity, a sense of self. But as he crossed the threshold to his Master’s bedroom, he lost it all. He has no name, as objects have no need of names. He has no identity beyond that of a toy; his master had no need for another boyfriend. He has no sense of self, only a sense of obligation to his Master.
He had to prepare before he could enter the room. First, he bathed himself washing away all the distractions of his life. Then he shaved himself smooth, creating a vast canvas of skin for his Master to work on. He then went to his Master on his knees presenting his body for inspection. The Master examined him with the upmost scrutiny. He was nervous, the slightest error would result in Master ignoring him for the night.
The Master’s hands started at the feet, feeling the callous and the ridge. Then the hands moved to the freshly shaved calves. The hands glided over the supple skin barely making contact. The Master’s hands then reached the knees. The Master bursa eskort forced his knees apart exposing his stiffening cock. The Master’s fingers trailed the inside of the thigh reaching the underside of the balls. The Master gently cupped the tender balls in his strong hand. Without warning the Master’s hand tightened, closing a fist around the balls. He muffled a cry, his Master hated a loud toy.
“What are you?” the Master asked gently, wiping a tear from his face.
“Yours,” he squeaked out. The Master loosened his grip.
“Excellent,” the Master said. He beamed in the Master’s praise.
“Assume the second position,” the Master ordered curtly.
He quickly and deftly turned his back to the master. He sat his buttocks on his calves his knees on the hard, wooden floor. The Master stepped away for a moment and returned from behind. Over his eyes the master tied a blindfold. To him the visual world no longer existed. Then the noise cancelling headphone were slipped over his ears. The distracting bursa merkez escort sound of the world snuffed out, replaced with a dull silence. But he would not worry, he knew the Master would guide him. The Master lifted him to his feet, a firm hand was placed on his shoulder from behind. A small nudge prodded him forwards, towards his greater purpose, towards what awaited him behind the door.
Helpless all he could do was follow the Master. A tap on the shoulder told him to stop. A sudden shove from behind and he fell. He had only a moment to react, but he knew he must keep his hands to his side. He trusted the Master. He landed face first into a soft cushiony bed. Bent over the bed he sensed the Master hard at work.
First his feet were spread wide and a bar was affixed to his ankles to keep them apart. Then the Master straddled his back to work on His hands. His hands were bound at the wrists. The soft rope tied tight, looping again and again over his wrists. His hand bursa ucuz escort ties were then attached to a long rope going over and under the bed. The loose end of the rope would be tied to an eyelet in the ankle bar. The rope was properly tensioned so he could no longer move from his bent over position. He was left alone as the Master selected the tool to work with.
With his legs spread the Master had convenient access to his hole. The Master approaches from behind. He felt a pressure as a smooth object pressed against his hole. The master leaned over him, lifting the noise cancelling headphone up for just a moment.
“These are new sheets. If you stain them, I will make you suffer,” the Master said in a soft voice.
He did not respond as toys cannot talk with the Master.
The Master pushed the dildo deep into him, the smooth head turned to a shaft adorned with bumps. He felt his hole stretch and tighten. The Master’s choice had a flared base preventing it from slipping out of him. His body was rocked with rhythmic vibrations as the Master active his final surprise. The Master’s choice buzzed within his toy. If he was not an object, he might have felt pleasure. But He had a duty to resist the pleasure. A duty to obey the Master. The Master then walked to the open doorframe.
“I’ll be back in a couple hours,” the Master said to no one.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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