He was totally free, but not at all

I left him on the bed, blindfolded. He could still hear, but no sound could help him imagine what was about to happen.

He hadn’t wanted to talk about the session before coming at the studio. We hadn’t made any plans. He had no idea what was coming. And now here he was, alone, trembling with fear and excitement.

I came back, opened the door and walked over to him slowly. His breathing got faster, the sound of my footsteps put him on alert. I grabbed a leather collar. He could feel me getting closer. He started to moan quietly.

I touched his neck, and his body shook. The sudden contact had surprised him. I put the collar around his neck, very, very tight, so that he could barely breathe. I fed ropes through the small rings on the collar, pulled them one by one, and knotted them at the corners of the bed. His legs and arms were still free, but now he couldn’t leave.

His flute became instantly hard, and he couldn’t resist playing with it by himself.

Of course, I didn’t like that.

I pulled his hands behind his back, tied his wrists together, and fixed them to the bed, whispering in his ear “You look beautiful in this position. This bondage is telling you who you are as a slave. You are locked here, with me. If you move, the collar around your neck will get tighter and tighter. Breathing will become very difficult for you. You have no other option but to accept, to surrender.”

I placed a chair in front of him, poured myself a glass of whiskey, and sat down to enjoy the view of this slave. His eyes were still covered, but he could feel that I was watching him.

This kind of restriction is different than just tying up someone’s arms and legs. Although there is no pressure on the body, it is still impossible to move. The ends have no restrictions, that’s true, but every movement would make his condition more painful. He was totally free, but, at the same time, he wasn’t at all.

It wasn’t the first time that I had played with him. He comes back every time the temptation builds up and he can no longer resist it. I know what he wants. For him, restriction means emotional stability. When the ropes take control of his body, when his illusory freedom is taken away, he finally feels stable and safe. He finds his place in this world. After every session with me his trust in me has grown, so that he can now give himself to me completely.

Watching him and thinking about these things made me furiously horny.

I decided to move forward.

I put the empty glass down on the table, and the sound alarmed him. He knew I was coming. Instinctively, he spread his legs.

I walked towards him and took off my pants. With one hand I grabbed his face, strongly and firmly, and let him know that I wanted him to open his mouth. He did.

I pushed my hard meat down his throat, slowly. I pushed it to the limit, until he couldn’t take any more, and then I pulled it back. And again. And again. While I was working his throat, he started sweating.

Suddenly I held my meat all inside his mouth, pinching his nose shut at the same time. Now he couldn’t breathe. I released him when he couldn’t hold back his gag, but only for a second. After few repetitions I noticed that the bed sheet under his flute was wet with precum. It was time to go further.

I started to play with his nipples and his dripping flute. It drove him crazy. His body started shaking. I stroked his flute a few more times. When he suddenly moaned “I’m close”, I stopped. I let him suffer with the pain and frustration, and every time he began to calm down, I started again. Edging him in this way was very satisfying. He was begging me to let him come, but he knew that ultimately that decision was not up to him. I was enjoying it all so much I decided to keep edging him, on and on. Every time the brink of climax came sooner and sooner. His mind was in a complete frenzy.

His peaks now came just a few seconds apart. I struck his flute down one more time and then stopped suddenly. “Your time is over,” I said.