Description
by Mason Jarre
An explicit, hardcore love story of man for man, centering on Master/slave relationships of rope bondage and domination.
The path to find happiness is not straightforward for Josh, even when he accepts his new life as slave to Master Jack and becomes Tristan. Interference by others with their own agenda is never far away, and there is more than one Master eager to dominate the young man.
Published: 3 / 2010
No. words: 61900
Style: BDSM/Bondage – Content: Moderate – Gay Bondage/BDSM, Male Dom – M/M, Moderate BDSM
I felt his smooth hands reach down and remove my undergear, slowly sliding the vibrator out of my ass.
“Ahhh…”
I felt so empty. I could not believe that I wanted it still inside me. Then, I felt warm water and a sponge caressing my back. Little by little, he began to wash me, every crook and crevice, cleaning my sweaty ass up. I relaxed, enjoying the coolness until he stopped bathing me.
I watched as he moved around my stall. He moved around in front of me, picking up equipment, hoses, and such. He threw a clear hose over the stanchion before walking around behind me.
Seconds later, I felt his hand on my ass, spreading my cheeks, and then I felt his tongue licking my hole. As I shifted my legs a little, I could feel his tongue poking deeper inside me. His smooth hand reached up and grabbed my cock. He slowly stroked me as he licked. It felt so good being touched by him, by my master. He slapped my ass as he backed away from it. I could feel his finger sliding inside my hole, filling the vacancy that had been left by the horsetail butt plug.
Unfortunately, this pleasure was to be short-lived. I felt a leather strap pulled taut against my stomach and heard the sound of chains rattling. Seconds later, my master hoisted my abdomen up in the air, and my feet hung off the ground. Then a leather strap was placed across my chest, and again I heard the rustling of the chains. My master raised my upper body so that my weight was now resting on both leather straps.
Next, he lifted my left leg up and fastened my ankle into a cuff. Quickly he did the same to the other side. There I was, face down, hanging on leather straps, head in stanchion, arms two feet away, fastened to the metal rod fetter.
“Don’t you look all pretty, trussed up like that?” he said as he walked around the stall and stood in front of me.
