Fuck me, Daddy! I need it! Yes!
Daltons incoherent moans resounded off the modestly decorated walls. If not for the sturdiness of the nails, many pictures would doubtless be wrecked on the floor, knocked lose by the orgiastic one-boy choir.
Days blurred into weeks and weeks mishmashed into months and still Dalton remained in his chastity belt, the metal device locked firmly to his youthful nethers and around his waist. He may not have minded it except for the near constant state of horniness he remained in.
Dalton could feel his morning wood denied each dawn, crushed behind immobile metal. His cock twitched at even the vaguest titillating image, a bare midriff, pants too tight, a flexing bicep. The world felt supercharged, the slightest touch overstimulating him.
Which is why he lived for nights like tonight, when He would jingle Daltons key mockingly and pat his lap. Decency, modesty, self-control all melted away in an instant.
He needed the pleasurable feeling of something teasing his prostate, the only real sexual gratification hed received for these two long years. And when it was offered to him, Dalton threw himself whorishly at it.
Well & first drawing in a long while. Im disappointed with myself. /artistangst