Master Eams gave clear orders to his slave that he was allowed to touch his cock but not cum. He expected to see his slave near lose his mind with arousal over the next few days as the temptation built and his balls became heavy. What he didn’t expect was to find him rolling in his Master’s laundry, dirty jock-strap pressed to his nose, one hand furiously masturbating and dripping cum all over his crumpled work shirts.
So, instead of rewarding his slave for doing the laundry and staying chaste, the slave was bound in an intricate rope harness and forced to stand in a corner of the living room.
Master invited friends over to grill some steaks and watch a movie. The punishment in itself was not the bondage. It was being forced to stand there forbidden to serve, which is a slave’s truest nature. It goes beyond handling flatware and fetching things – there were four men in that kitchen with cocks that did not get pleasured.
The slave was ignored through-out dinner and disregarded through-out the film, except for when one of Master’s friends came over to give him a sip of water and tweak his cock. Master Eams had bound it in a forward-jutting position, a painful reminder of who really had control of those erections.
The slave had plenty time to think and regret his actions. When his friends left, Master Eams put the food away and went upstairs. The slave was left alone in the dark.
Two hours later, he came backstairs and told his slave to kneel. He was permitted to suck his master’s cock and for as a job well done, he was mercifully untied. The slave’s taut muscles tingled as the blood rushed to where they had been constricted and he groaned in relief.
Master Eams cupped his chin in strong hands, “Do not disappoint me again. If you feel you are about to lose self-control, come to me first and remove the temptation. That said, there is a paper plate for you in the fridge. Eat it, but you don’t have permission to heat it up. Also,clean the kitchen. Brush the grill slats, take out the trash, wash the dishes, refill the Brita pitcher, and then you may come up stairs to sleep at the foot of my bed.”
The slave bowed from his kneeling position to kiss Master Eams’s bare feet, “Yes Master, thank you Master”. Despite his sore legs he rushed to complete each task, relieved to have been forgiven for such a stupid lack of judgement and is determined to prove himself again.
