Master Jake

I see it, the way your body tenses whenever I enter a room. The way you hang on to every word, desperately hoping I’ll tell you it’s time to go to the bedroom. Your heart fluttering anytime I look at you.

Desperate for my touch. Desperate for it not to be over when I blow my load all over your face.

Desperate to please me. To make me cum harder and more intensely. Desperate for me to make you do things you’d never thought you’d be brought so low to even consider.

Desperate for me to let you cum, but desperate for me to make you wait longer. Desperate for my feet, but desperate for me to take them away.

Hating feeling like this, desperate for me to keep it going.

Desperate to suffer for my amusement.

So… no. The socks are staying on and your balls are staying swollen.

The gag goes in and gets padlocked, then he starts stroking. He’ll have a long luxurious jerk off session while I stare at the socks I can’t touch, imagine the feet I can’t see, and hear him moaning in orgasmic pleasure I can’t have on account of the cage he’s locked on my dick.

“Have fun,” He patted the big, muscular, shirtless guy on the ass, “try not to damage him.”

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