My slave was in trouble. Big trouble and he knew it.
My orders were clear, same as always, though that did not mean they were easy to follow. That was part of the thrill. I challenged Thomas as he wanted to be challenged. He wouldn't have stayed, otherwise.
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Earlier that evening, I needed to run to the grocery store to grab a few things. I had bathed Thomas myself and oiled up his naked body. As my slave, his body belonged to me and he was permitted no privacy, even in his most intimate moments.
It was Friday night and I had had him in the plastic cock cage all week, denying his right to cum for five straight days.
These long trials without cumming got any easier for Thomas, especially with all the sexual stimuli I continued to subject him too during the week. Even if he himself could not have released, he was still required to pleasure me whenever I commanded. With his mouth. With his hole. With whatever torment or humiliation I wished to put him through.
So when I freed him from the devilish device at long last, his balls were weighty and full, like ripe plums in my hand.
When I squeezed the base of his shaft, he grew hard almost immediately, his cockhead snaking up into the sleeve of my sweatshirt. He was ready to cum a bucket load, but he did not have my permission and I decided he could wait.
I put a handsome, black leather dog collar around his neck and a snug leather cuff around his balls to match.
Since I was going out, I commanded him to stand in the corner, facing the wall. There was a clear, glass buttplug screwed deep into his oiled-up hole and he was to stand spread eagled, hands behind his head, swaying his bubble buns until I got back.
With all the workouts I'd been putting him through, his ass looked better than ever. As round, pert and squeezable as freshly risen dough.
I liked to keep his bulbous buns moving and his hole stretched wide so it would be ready for my cock at all times.
The very sight of his perfect, moving buns had the power to unleash unbridled lust within me. I wanted him ready to be violated deep and hard whenever I got the urge.
Of course, I could have cuffed his wrists to his collar so he could not touch his long-neglected hardon even if he wanted to. But that would have been too easy.
He was my full-time slave now and this was his training. He would need to keep his hands away from his cock simply because I commanded him to do so. No excuses. If he disobeyed my orders, he would have to face the consequences.
But now I had caught him red-handed and he knew what he was in for. His pretty blue eyes grew moist. He swallowed audibly. "I'm so sorry, master, please forgive me, I..."
"Yes," I said coldly, "Yes, Thomas, tell me everything. Every last detail. I want to hear all of it."
I crossed the room to where he stood. He turned as I approached, trying to hide his face, but I stopped him. I planted one hand beneath his jaw and lifted his chin so he could not look away. "Stand straight Thomas." He obeyed, thrusting back his shoulders. "Hands at your sides. Clench your buns tight. Tighter than that, swallow up the buttplug completely." He flinched as he flexed his buns as tight as they would go. "Now, look your master in the eye and tell me why you disobeyed my rules."
He swallowed hard against my hand at his throat. His face turned crimson and the edges of his mouth turned downward. Thomas was a very handsome man, likely more handsome than he ever realised. Though I may have found him most attractive when his face was stricken as it was now. He was the very picture of shame and embarrassment.
There was a stifled whimper as he swallowed again. "I just (gulp) I just needed to cum so badly, master. My cock was so hard. I was so horny standing there wiggling my buns and you were gone so long...I couldn't..." Further excuses fell apart in his mouth before my unrelenting gaze. He looked desperate for some hint of sympathy, but found none.
He swallowed against my hand, now trying to fight back tears. "It's so hard for me sometimes, master. I'm so weak, I'm so stupid. I...(gulp) I wanted to be a good boy, master. Please, please forgive me. Forgive me for failing you, master."
I breathed in and rolled back my shoulders. I became his master, once again. Perhaps more so than I ever had before. "Get the spatula, Thomas," I commanded quietly. "Not the slotted one, the solid one, you know the one I mean."
Thomas looked up at me, face burning, eyes moist and desperate. He had begged me not to send him away and now he understood what lay ahead of him. There was a fascinating mixture of gratitude and fear in his expression. Gratitude that he could continue to be my slave, and also fear of what was about to happen.
"Down on all fours, facing the wall. THIS wall." I pointed to the one that had the long trail of his semen running down it. He did as he was told, his cock already growing again at being commanded by me.
Once positioned on the floor like a dog, I seized a hold of his collar and dragged him forward. I pressed his face against the mess on the wall.
"Now, can you feel your disobedience against your face? Can you smell it?"
"Yes, master," he groaned, "Yes, I can feel and smell my cum, master."
"Taste it, Thomas. Lick it."
Thomas extended his long, red tongue and licked the cum on the wall like a dog. He flinched in a way he hadn't when licking it off his hand, likely thanks to the plaster aftertaste.
"Do you like it, Thomas? Does it taste good?"
He hesitated a moment, trying to determine what I wanted to hear.
"It tastes very good, master. Thank you, master."
"Arch your back, Thomas. Stick your ass out as far as you can. And I do mean as FAR as he can." I said this with an especially icy tone and I felt a shudder go through my slave.
He stuck his buns out as far as he could while on all fours, serving them up to me freshly baked bread rolls.
I drew the spatula out of my pocket and pressed the handle against the glass buttplug in his hole, forcing it as far up as it would go and putting maximum pressure against his prostate.
Thomas groaned in discomfort.
"Recite rule number three, Thomas."
He gritted his teeth against the buttplug pressing up deep inside of him. "Rule number three (OOMF). Only my master...only my master is allowed to decide when I cum (OOF). I am forbidden to cum without permission."
I raised the metal spatula and gave Thomas's left buttcheek a vicious whack. His body absorbed the impact and he let out a cry. "Ssss...ah!"
"Again, Thomas, rule number three."
Face still pressed against the wall, he drew in his breath. "Only my master is allowed to decide when I cum. I am forbidden to cum without permission." SMACK! "ACK!"
The right cheek this time, even harder. The blood vessels were bursting in his tender backside. What was already pink was darkening to crimson.
"Again, Thomas, faster this time!"
Thomas said it as fast as he could before I brought the spatula down on him. "Only my master can decide when I cum. I am forbidden to cum without permission!" SMACK! "ARRR"
This particular tool of punishment was breaking down his barriers quickly and turning him into the helpless, pitiful sex slave that he was.
"Arch your back, Thomas, buns in the air," I barked at him. "Rule three again!" The coolness in my voice had disappeared and the rage was boiling forth. Thomas did as I said. Again and again the spatula came down, tenderising his flesh like raw steak. There was no resisting the cruelty of the spatula and son Thomas was weeping like a child into the wall.
".Straighten your legs, hold still, Thomas."
Thomas straightened his legs and pushed his trembling, burning buns out toward me as far as he could. He shook like a broken man.
"I AM FORBIDDEN TO CUM WITHOUT PERMISSION!" SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
I got down on my knees and tipped Thomas sideways onto my lap. Now it was time to really cut loose.
I hammering his wiggling, burning butt as he struggled and cried and begged me for mercy. "PLEASE, NO, NO, ACK!"
When at last I was spent, I heaved a great sigh and tossed the spatula to the side. "Now lick it up, Thomas," I said panting, "lick up every little bit of that mess you made on my wall."
I pulled Thomas up to his knees. There was no resistance whatsoever left in him. He learned his lesson.