Tuesday, 27 October 2020
Thursday, 15 October 2020
Fiction: Cigar Boy Part #2
The drive home was less than an hour with the boy
restrained on the back seat. The steel cuffs behind his back must have caused discomfort
with every movement in his heightened state.
Finally reaching my property, I pulled up on my long driveway which was
far away from prying neighbours and unlocked my seatbelt; crotch still swollen
with the thoughts of the training I was to give this new playmate.
Looking over to the back seat, the boy was now lying on his
side, facing away from me and providing perfect view of well fitted fabric of
his suit trousers his hands and feet still securely bound. I reached over and ran my hand down the back
of his shaved head, to which he was clearly surprised to feel my touch.
“Are we still happy to be owned property for my use
boy? Nod your head for yes”
There was emphatic nodding.
“Then relax here until I get prepared”
I opened my door, and unlocked the house, proceeding
directly into my garage come playroom.
If he wanted imprisonment scenes, I’d make sure they came true. I prepared a few items ready, picked up a few
more, and returned to my waiting captive.
Opening the rear passenger door, confronted with the boys
still taped ankles, I bent over his knees and placed my uniformed body weight
on top of him whilst I slid a heavy belly chain under his waist, padlocking it
tightly behind his back with a large padlock.
“Now boy, I’ll take off your cuffs, you just put your hand
on the back of your head for me”.
Inserting the cuff key, unlocked one wrist, and he quickly
complied with instructions. I unlocked
the other wrist, and without releasing it fastened the new belly chain cuff
around his wrist and snapped it shut.
Taking the hand behind his head, I also repositioned it at his waist,
and snapped the other cuff around his other wrist. Both wrists were once again securely locked
to his belt line.
Unwrapping the tape from his still crossed over ankles, I
went on to fasten a metal leg cuff around each ankle, completing the
application of the prison restraint system.
Learning forwards, my weight still on his legs, I removed
the loops of tape from around his head and mouth, and pulled the leather glove
now moist with boy spit from his mouth.
“THANK YOU SIR”
“Stay face down for me boy, while I untape
your eyes.”
I carefully removed each piece of tape from each eye whilst
had kept him deprived of his sight since our roadside scenario. Leaning further forwards, I took his earlobe
in my mouth and nibbled gently.
“You’re fine boy, doing well”.
In his new prison escort steel, with my uniformed weight
still pushing down on him, he wasn’t able to raise his head up far to see much
other than the car seat, but instinctively turned his face to the side for his
lips to connect with his master and owner.
I indulged him as much as the angle allowed, by meeting lips with him,
tasting him; pushing my tongue inside his mouth to exert my complete dominance
and ownership.
He let out gentle moans of approval before I moved away and
swiftly pulled my favourite black leather ‘cocksucker’ hood down over his face
and shaven head. I could smell the
delicious scent of warm leather mixed with boy sweat as a cinched the laces
tight around the back of his head, fastened the collar tight, and clicked a
padlock in place. His lips pouted
through the open mouth hole and his sudden disorientation would have been enhanced
by the small pepperpot hole eyes restricting his
vision. I covered the eyes with the
matching blindfold, snapping the metal poppers into place, again returned his
awareness into leather darkness.
Padlocking a chain to the collar of the hood, I released my
weight pinning him and encouraged him to position himself to get out the
vehicle. In his hobbled and retrained
state, this was via brute force more than anything; although it was a fine
sight watching this suited muscleboy in heavy
restraints, his mouth ready for me. His
feet finally hit the ground, and I encouraged his direction and locked the car.
With every cautious step of his movement, there was a
satisfying sound of metal against metal and metal against concrete, and the
waist belt showed off his muscled torso and arms well. In his hobbled and
hooded state, I led him down the side of the house, and through the door into
my playroom.
Positioning him in front of my leather sofa, I ordered him
down and helped him.
“Kneel”. I snapped
off the leather blindfold; the pepperpot eyes would have
only given him tentative glances of the pleasures and torments he’d experience
later.
It was an alluring sight having this boy fully restrained on
his knees, looking submissive in his cock sucker hood, surrounded with the
smell of heavy leathers and sex of the past.
I reached down and cupped my cock and balls through the fabric of my
uniform and stroke, lifting my Magnums onto my boot stool.
“Service those Magnums boy, get them nice and presentable”
Without hesitation he knelt forward in his still restrained
form and his tongue extended; moist and ready to connect with the boot
leather. He spat on the tip of my boot
and his tongue connected. His tongue
took long hard strokes across the scuffed leather, soaking them with spit. The hood fitted him tightly, the rear zip
tapering down to the wide padlocked collar and releasing its distinctive smell.
He worked from the tip upwards towards the lace line, and
then across from one side to the other with vigour. This boy clearly loved is boot leather. I could feel the pressure of his tongue on
every stroke across the boot.
The front of his suit was once again clearly bulging and a
stain was again appearing. As I lit
another cigar, my own cock was straining against its jock, and I was enjoying
slowly stroking it through my uniform as I felt the pressure of his tongue
doing its job.
This first boot was beginning to shine from the attention,
and I took a long draw on the cigar, and blow the smoke down towards the boy’s
head. Leaning back
I undid my belt and zip, and stroked my now hard cock which was straining
within the confines of its jock. The
swollen purple head was now moist and I released it to its full length from the
elastic fabric.
Drawing back on the cigar again, I leant forward, and
tapped cigar ash onto the existing wet boot, and his tongue hungrily cleaned
the boot once again. By now it was once
again gleaming and presenting a high shine, and I was pleased with both his work
and how this was entertaining my cock.
I stood and pulled him up onto his knees with the
collar. Looking forward down my uniform,
my cock was standing straight out, ready to be serviced; and the submissive
image I was witnessing with this muscleboy still
suited, his wrists restrained against his waist in leather and metal was again
building the precum on the edge on my cock.
The tented bulge in his suit with its moist patch spreading
was a perfect target for some gentle pressure of my boot, and the fabric a good
way to improve the shine still further.
Even with my boot, I could feel this stud was rock hard and clearly was
already ready for some release.
Taking another draw on my cigar, I blew the smoke down
towards my crotch, pulled back his collar to force his head back, and tapped
the ash directly into his mouth. With my
one free gloved hand, I extended my leathered finger to his lips, teasing them
for a while and then pushed it slowly into the length of his mouth.
There was no flinch or gag, just pressure from his tongue
which I could feel exploring the length of my glove, and circling round it.
“Good lad. Now open
wider.
With cigar in one hand, I used the other moist glove to
guide the head of my cock towards his lips.
This is what a cock sucker leather hood was made for – disorientate a
boy, reminding him he was an object to serve his boss with his mouth.
“Use your tongue”
His tongue extended out the mouth of the hood, his strong
jawline moist with spit. There was now
ash down the front of his chin and his tongue was stained with boot
polish. With his tongue extended, I
circled by swollen and moist cock around it, letting him explore the taste and
texture. I pushed the slit against the
point of his tongue, and he licked at it like a cat with cream.
I ran the length of it past his tongue, down to the base of
the shaft.
“There you go boy, enjoy cleaning daddy’s balls as well”.
His tongue extended further, tracing circles of warmth
around my once again full balls. He took
them in his mouth as he could, tugging and sucking at them, driving me wild to
once again unload.
With my cigar back in mouth, I used both gloved hands to
take a hold of the back of his leather hooded head, and present the full length
of my fully hard cock to his mouth. This
time it would not be a quick opportunity at the side of the road.
Guiding the cock head against his lips, the pepperpot eyes of the hood would have allowed him to see he
was again about to be used by this fully uniformed cop who was his owner. As I held his hooded head in place, my moist
swollen cock head was enveloped by his warm moist mouth. Every nerve was heightened as slid deeper
into his mouth, and my cock pushed against his throat. With my gloved hands, I gently pulled back
again, before pushing harder and further into his throat.
I felt him gagging slightly, so pulled back and told him to
catch his breath. In truth, the gagging
just turned me on more.
His warm throat was moist and he was good at taking orders. Taking hold of the leather hood, I increased
the speed of my thrusts going deeper and deeper each time. His gag reflex would increase and then he’d
relax into it once he took a breath, moistness covering his mouth and chin. In his restrained state with me controlling
his hood, there was nothing he could do but focus on serving.
Again the visual of my cock
sliding balls deep inside his tightly leathered face and him pulling against
the wrist restraints once again kicked in as a ploughed into his throat. As I felt my climax I pulled him deeply onto
my cock and felt my load fire out. He
choked; but I held fast.
“Gulp it down slave, take that daddy seed like the boy you
are.”
I felt his throat contract rapidly as the hot seed was
taken.
“Good. Now clean it off”
As my breathing returned to normal again, I pulled out
enough for him to work his tongue round the head and harvest the precious
liquid. I released I was still in
uniform and booted, and now sweating, and still had my cigar lit.
Dropping more ash into his mouth, I returned to a seated
position.
“Other boot boy”.
Swallowing the ash, he without hesitation again dropped to
the remaining boot and extended his tongue again.