(via TumbleOn)A long tendril of saliva ran down the side of his face, his mouth gaping open in a mixture of a pleasured o and an agonized cry. He could feel his balls, drained as they were, clench up against his body in an effort to squeeze out the last of their contents only to fail and send his body shuddering into yet another dry climax. He panted frantically as a fresh coat of sweat formed over his arched body.
That made four in a row thus far, on top of the dozen or so true ejaculations that now clung to the leather sleep sack like a sticky paste. Inside his bonds he was wet and exhausted. His private parts were painfully sensitive so that each mechanical thrust of the milking device had him biting his lower lip to choke back the sobs bubbling in his throat.
So many climaxes and yet his body, though tired and over-indulged, gave no sign of losing its arousal. Maybe it had been something in his food dish that morning, some kind of aphrodisiac or pill. He might have actually cared were he able to form a single cohesive thought beyond his bodys on animalistic impulses.
His owner had made no mention of a time limit. In fact, he was so lost within himself that he was not even sure the man was still in the same room with him anymore. And, even as he began to arch is back again to the roaring approach of another orgasm, the machine stopped, leaving the boy whimpering and horny as ever.
Please, more, sir! More!