Sniffling and wide eyed as he’s stripped down and locked into heavily restrictive metal bondage, keeping his naked body rigidly posed in place: legs apart, arms pulled back tightly, chin up. He tries to shake his head but it’s being held firmly in place by the restraints attached to his neck pillory and his eyes well up with tears. His dom is cooing and speaking to him sweetly, gently explaining that if he didn’t want this he should have been better behaved when he had the chance. He steps out for a moment leaving the boy shivering and exposed, his eyes darting around the room. It would be full of people soon, strangers, his friends, he didn’t know. His dom returns with a bottle of baby oil, squeezing some of it into his hands and massaging it into his toy. He takes care to grope and squeeze his most sensitive areas as he does so, the boy unable to react with more than a few tiny little involuntary movements and some choked whines. He especially focuses on his round little ass and his tight hole, making him yelp in surprise as his dom slips a little of his thumb in, laughing at the reaction. He then parts the boys labia with his fingers and then starts working the oil into his soft pussy, pulling back the foreskin of his tdick, illiciting a pained yelp as he works the oil over his sensitive head, lingering for much longer than he needed to. He then starts rubbing the boy’s now painfully hard cock so well, just how he likes it, making his eyes roll back as he tries to buck and writhe in his restraints. Then, without warning, his dom leaves again, making him cry out in frustration. He returns with some nice finishing touches: a nose hook and a cheek spreader. Chosen specifically because he knows his sub gets so embarrassed when he’s made to wear them. He tries to shake his head, babbling nononono as the thick, cold hooks uncomfortably pull back his nostrils, distorting his face in a way his dom knew his sub absolutely hated. Finally, his dom roughly and callously pokes around the boys mouth as he works the cheek retractors into place. Pulling tighter, tighter, tighter, the boy’s face is forced into an a ridiculous shape that he cannot escape, no matter how hard he tries to manoeuvre his mouth. “There! Now you look adorable, I can’t wait to present you to our guests!” He lets the boy see himself with a small hand mirror, laughing at his cries of shame and protest. “You’re going to be here for a long time so you’d better get comfortable darling!” His dom exits the room for much longer this time as he continues setting up for the party. His exhibition can do nothing but wait. Immobilised, uncomfortable, painfully aroused and in agonising anticipation to find out what kind of whims his guests would subject him to. Which of his friends would see him this way, would he be ignored, would he be tortured, fucked, laughed at, filmed? His merciless restraints command that he must motionlessly receive whichever of these he is given.
