My phone buzzed on the desk, Felix’s name popping up with a text, but I ignored it to focus on the boy between my legs.
“Such a good little cocksucker. No spanking and restraints for you.” Petting his head as he sucked lazily, I congratulated him before dashing all hopes for a reprieve. “Instead, you get to fulfill one of my latest fantasies.”
“What?” Basil pushed my half-soft dick out of his mouth and sat back on his heels, hitting his head on the edge of my desk. He rubbed at it and gave me a sour look. “Ow. Why am I being punished?”
“I said spanking and being tied up was punishment for not coming, not that there would be no other punishments. Let’s see…You made a noise while I was on the phone, you spoke without being asked a direct question, and you came all over me. This is also for coming on my antique rug, which I’ll have to clean up,” I ticked off on my fingers. A new idea occurred to me. “Maybe I should have you lick it clean along with my feet?”
“There’s no winning with you?” Basil crossed his arms and pouted. It was oddly adorable, but he wasn’t done. “This doesn’t make any sense. I tried.”
“You tried?” I raised an eyebrow, and he blanched.
“I’ll do better next time, Daddy.”
“You will,” I nodded. Pushing his head toward the floor, I reached for the bag I’d brought downstairs, “But first you’ll clean up your mess.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Basil pouted from the floor, starting on the drying cum on my toes. I’d have to brush his teeth again, but I got a perverse pleasure from doing that.
While he lapped towards my ankles, I upended the bag and laid out the things I’d bought. Sexual torture and mutual orgasms–what more could I ask for?
Reading the text from Felix could wait until the boy had his cage on, and I’d get to explore sounding.
“Stand up and sit on my desk,” I instructed, moving my laptop and some papers on a property I owned aside. Basil glared but did as he was asked. His leash only stretched far enough to prop his ass on the edge, flaccid cock at just the right angle for me. “I’ve watched a lot of tutorials. This can either hurt or feel good, depending on you.”
The bag included a single-use lube packet, and I pondered the idea of keeping a bottle of lube in my desk. The silicone rods for beginners were still in their sterile packaging, so I donned the gloves provided and opened a smaller one. Lubing it, I looked back up at Basil, finding his eyes and mouth wide open.
“What do you mean you’ve watched tutorials?” Basil gasped. I blinked at him a few times before he added. “You’ve done this before, right, Daddy?”
“No, but I’m a fast learner,” I grasped his soft cock in hand, the head almost completely hidden in foreskin. I exposed his slit and lined up the rod, which had a large, round loop at the end for removal. “Take a deep breath and let me know if you feel any sharp pains.”
Moving the sound with minimal force, the tip entered his hole and Basil jumped, “Oh, ow!”
“Sharp pain, or just surprising?” I asked, not stopping the forward motion as his urethra seemed to allow entry with no resistance. This first stretching rod was halfway in already.
“Not sharp,” Basil breathed in and out deeply, gripping the edge of my desk with white knuckles, “unless I move. Just weird as fuck.”
“Good, weird?” The gravity and Basil’s dick plumping a little answered my question as the sound stopped at the base.
“Not bad, just intense,” Basil’s breath shuddered as I let go. I tapped the end of the loop experimentally, his dick bouncing with the extra weight. Basil moaned, “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Do that again, Daddy?”
Basil didn’t complain at the sensation of the sound being removed, or when I switched to a metal tube, but the cage that fit over it ended his fun.
“You can still pee,” I explained, standing and untied the leash from my desk, “but I think it’s time to clean up and have lunch.”
Basil was still panting hard, but he slid off the desk, “Yes, Daddy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
BASIL
George kept surprising me.Sometimes in fucking scary ways that made me want to scream for help, while other times I felt the safest I’d ever been, held tight in his arms. He also gave me pleasure by doing things I would have thought I’d hate.
The urethral sound, as the label George first showed me had called it, was a mix of the two. There was a slight burn when it went in, and a fullness. It was similar to feeling his fingers in my ass the night before. A sense of wrongness for an out-hole to have anything going in. And yet… It also felt extremely erotic.
George controlled my body.
My orgasms, my food, when I could go to the bathroom or even leave the room. There was a certain liberation in those moments when I gave in and just sat, with my mind relaxing and letting go while he took over. He would make sure I ate at mealtimes, drank water, brushed my teeth, and was bathed. I was free from decisions, and if I was good, I got to feel very, very good.
“Hush, brat,” he chastised me when I protested the cock cage going back on. “You’ll get it off when Daddy decides you need it off.”
