Intense Bondage

Picture from Tumblr

 

Intense Bondage

Okay!  I posted this picture a couple days ago. I commented that I hoped the guy in the picture was wearing clamps on his man tits and a collar. I don’t do it to intentionally make a suggestion to Master but he increasing takes my commentary as some that I’d like to experience.  Master reads my blog everyday so he knows what I am saying in it and often edits the posts if I say something he doesn’t like.
He read my comments on the picture and decided to try me and see how long I would last.

We finished our business in the office and then Master pulled a few pieces of rope from his desk drawer. He tied my upper arms just above the elbows then tightened the binding until my upper arms touched.  He tied my wrists and then made a Shibari type collar with a third piece of rope.  He threw the raw end of the collar rope over the ceiling beam and tied it off so that I was stuck to struggle in my bindings. I stood in front of his desk so that he could watch me while he worked.

I’m fairly fit. I run thirties miles a week, work out with the machines in our gym and do yoga. I do yoga to remain flexible for bondage and serving Master.  Having my arms tightly bound behind me wasn’t a big deal for the first fifteen minutes but it became tiring after that. Master upped the pain level by snapping a pair of clover clamps on my tits.  I started to moan a little sometime later. He fed me a Viagra tablet then tightly tied my cock and balls with another piece of roped. He went into the bathroom a soaked a pair of his dirty underwear with piss and gagged me with it, tying it in place with a monkey fist knot. My cock already felt like it was dribbling. It was hard before the Viagra, it could only get harder.

Master leaned his chair back and put his hands behind his head.
“You got yourself in a real fix there you stupid shit”, he laughed.

He couldn’t see my smile behind the rope gag.

The pain in my shoulders steadily grew more intense. My cock grew harder. A steady stream of pre-cum dribbled onto the floor. I clenched my buttock, stimulating my prostate.

“Don’t you dare come, stupid shit!”
Master rarely calls me names, I liked it.

I suddenly felt like I wanted him to take his belt off and work my ass over with it. I was in a dilemma, I could cum without permission to get him to beat me, but then, after cumming I wouldn’t want him to beat me. I thought to myself, “I better not”. The funny thing was, as if by mental telepathy, Master stood up and slid his belt out of the loops of his jeans and reddened by ass with it. He said, “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it boy”?

I shook my head affirmatively, wondering “can he really read my thoughts?”

Master sucked my cock after beating me then stud up and fucked me. He beat my ass again.

My shoulders burned with pain. In fact, my entire body burned in both pain and from being on the edge of cumming and fighting it back. Master turned his attention to my tits. I sucked the piss out of my gag while trying to keep from screaming.  He suddenly stopped everything. My cock was turning colors. Master untied my upper arms and massaged my shoulders. Having his massive hands work my shoulder muscles felt like heaven. Master turned his attention to my cock. He messaged it, insisting that I will not cum. He slapped my cock when I screamed, “I’m gonna cum!”. He repeated the process over and over again and then whispered, “Let’s have it boy”. Master clamped my urethra with his fingertips preventing a free flow of cum. I thought I was going to die.