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http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ================================================================== You wake up from your afternoon nap and find that I've left you in bed to sleep. You stretch, kick the covers off, and pad out of the bedroom to see me sitting at my desk, typing furiously on the keyboard. You start to speak and I waive a hand to let you know that I am in the middle of a thought. Knowing the importance of my work, you nod, turn around and step out of the room.
As you walk through my house, your hole aches pleasantly from our last encounter and your balls tingle with emptiness. You try to look for something to occupy your quiet time but the caress of your Sir outweighs the pull of the kindle or the TV. You step back into the office to see Sir continuing to type. You sidle up along side his chair displaying your nearly nude body in his peripheral vision and start to speak when he shoots you a perturbed glance that communicates that he shouldn't be interrupted. Visually scolded your synapses misfire and your brain tells your mouth to communicate your apology. As you blurt out "I'm sorry, I just wanted to" Sir stands from his chair, shouts "kneel", and walks out of the room.
As you kneel head down & quivering, you see Sir return to his desk and set down your cum stained jock (http://amzn.to/2nd5rwD) from yesterday, the blacked out swim goggles (http://amzn.to/2mWUOfJ) and the Japanese bondage rope (http://amzn.to/2ntO1OH).
In your peripheral vision, he steps over to the wall, removes the painting and judiciously sets it against the other wall. You then feel him behind you, standing over your kneeling form. As he reaches around your face, wraps one hand around the front of your mouth and tersely says "open" while squeezing your cheeks, you relax your jaw and he stuffs the cum stained briefs into your mouth.
He puts the blacked out goggles on next, pulls you up to a standing position, and then proceeds to tie your hands in front of you. You're pulled over to the wall, your arms lifted above your head and attached to the hook, and Sir proceeds to hang you in a standing position against the wall - replacing the painting that hung there earlier. Sir roughly gropes your body on his way down to your feet where we wraps your left ankle with rope and then cinches it over the right leaving your immobile against the wall. As he stands up, you feel the air move across your torso as he steps away and you hear a faint muttering about needing to buy a bulk of plaster of paris (http://amzn.to/2nOlsfI) as statues don't make noise.
You hear Sir return to his desk and continue to type - beating his words into the keyboard as you hang across the wall from him. As your arms begin to ache and the soles of your feet begin to get pins and needles, you feel your cock begin to get hard. Knowing this could be a distraction to Sir, that it could inflame an already dangerous situation, you attempt to will your cock to go down. Unfortunately thinking about it more only makes your cock get harder and you try to gently shift your body until Sir yells "Quiet!" in between a pause on the keyboard.
Ten, fifteen, thirty (?) minutes go by as you hang on the wall and listen to the constant hammering of the keyboard. As your arms go numb and your body begins to sweat, you can taste your own semen from your underwear as your saliva loosens the cum stain that previously saturated yesterdays briefs. The cum taste only makes your cock get harder and you start to feel like you're about to leak some pre cum through your dick. You begin to fear that the drip will hit the hardwood floor furthering interrupting Sirs thought process. Inevitably, the more you consider your cum dripping, you start to feel the liquid drool from your slit and begin to slide off your dick head.
At this point, you hear Sir stop typing and there is no other sound in the room but his and your breathing. He's making no sound on the keyboard and you fear that the drip of pre off your dick has somewhat angered him - further interrupting his thoughts. However, there is no sound whatsoever and soon - due to the beating of your heart in your own ears - you can't even hear him breathing anymore. A few minutes pass by as you try to determine what Sir is doing. Is he thinking? Is he angry? is he staring at me with rage? with lust?
The sound of Sir's office chair breaks your from your contemplation as he gets up from his desk. You hear a fumbling in the desk drawer and then nothing as Sir walks over next to you on the wall. You can soon feel his breathing near you, his exhale streaming across your neck and chest as you hang from the hook - inches from his inspecting glance. Nothing is said as he stands in front of you breathing. You can feel the stream of air across your body and the bore of his eyes but you can't ascertain his mood. For minutes he says nothing but then you feel his hand wrap itself around your incredibly hard cock. He squeezes your cock tight, over and over, until more pre drips from your cock head. He chuckles, licks your neck with his tongue as he nuzzles it, and slowly whispers in your ear "you get off on this boy, don't you?"