Ross had just about had enough. He had gone out Friday night, determined to explore a bit of his fantasy to become the cocksucker for a musclestud, and he had found one! Tats, hard flat pecs, thick long cock… perfect. The problem? It was now Tuesday. His dick was locked in a cock cage, he was bound up in a bondage frame, last night’s hot wax session was still flaking off of his back, and the stud was now back to fuck him again. Ross needed to get back home! His long weekend was over, and he had to go to work!
As he explained this to the stud (he never did get the man’s name), Ross was told to shut up. “I’ve been keeping you here to make sure,” the stud began, “that you were worth enslaving permanently. Two weeks ago, I inherited a lot… a LOT… of money. I’m buying a large estate, and I am outfitting the sub-basement as a dungeon where I will enslave about twenty men. You are the first. So just shut up, and learn to call me “Sir,” or you will regret it.”
Ross already did regret it.