DAY EIGHTY-ONE
Confession
For two weeks I was kept alone on the second floor of the north wing with only Suresh for company. Breakfast was some sort of Indian dish, usually noodles or some fried cakes. These were like pancakes, but they sure didn't taste anything like pancakes. I ate my breakfast from a bowl on the floor, no hands, as Suresh demanded, then licked the floor clean.
He worked me hard. Mornings began with weight training, Suresh and me together. I'd learned to enjoy lifting weights, and getting to watch Suresh do his lifts shirtless was the best part of my day. After lifting came an hour and a half on the treadmill, with my balls wired to make sure I didn't slack off. While I ran, Suresh went downstairs to check on the household and supervise the staff. Lunch was always a protein shake, then the afternoon would be a second round of lifting and running, and somewhere in there Suresh would fuck me. Dinner would be another Indian dish. After dinner, Suresh would shower me; he'd spend the evening in an easy chair, reading or watching TV, with me lying at his feet. Sometimes he rested his feet on top of me as if I were a carpet, or ordered me onto my hands and knees and used me as a footstool.
Unlike Master, who jerked me off every day, Suresh would only do it twice a week, usually after lunch, and always the same way. First he'd order me to stand at attention in front of the full-length mirror in Master's bedroom and look at myself. I couldn't deny that Suresh's training regimen was good for my body. Somehow I looked hot, while also still looking like me. Suresh would stand behind me and reach around with both arms, placing one hand on my chest, the other on my dick, and hold me close as he subjected me to a slow handjob that sometimes lasted as long as an hour, while I looked in the mirror and watched Suresh's brown fingers slide back and forth along the dragon's throat. When I came, my splooge would land on the mirror. Suresh would make me lick it off, then get a cloth and polish the mirror for next time.
Finally came an afternoon when Suresh didn't fuck me. Instead, we ate an early dinner, then he led me to Master's study, and there was Master sitting on the couch in his robe, waiting for us. He was home at last!
Master smiled as we entered the room, and my own face lit up in the goofiest of grins. I didn't say anything, because Rule Eight, but Master said, "There's my slave!" He beckoned for me, and I stood before him. "It missed me."
I thought he was talking about my grin, but his eyes were on my dick and yes, the opportunity to stand before Master once more was turning me on.
Master looked to Suresh and said, "You've been milking him while I was away, I hope."
"Of course, but not
too
often. I assumed you'd want it to be horny for you."
"This tattoo is magnificent. Kono has outdone himself." Master took hold of my dick, which made it harder, but only so he could move it around to better admire the artwork. "What about the cock sucking problem? Make any headway on that?"
I tensed as I waited to hear Suresh's reply. Since Master's fingers were still on my dick, my reaction showed, and Master noticed, for I saw him glance at me curiously just before Suresh answered. "I'm sorry, Master. I tried, but this one has an unusually sensitive throat. It gags no matter what I do. It's hopeless."
"Oh," said Master, disappointed. He took hold of my balls with his other hand, to admire that portion of the dragon. Then he tickled them for a moment before releasing me. I couldn't help wiggling a little.
"I can see you wish to spend some time alone with your toy," said Suresh. "Will that be all?"
"Yes, that will be all. Have a good night, Suresh."
Suresh smiled, bowed, and withdrew, shutting the door behind him. Master stood, shed the bathrobe, and hugged me. "I am so sick of sleeping alone in a hotel room," he said, as he led me to the bed. He laid me on my back, fished a butt plug out of the end table, and shoved it into me, just like old times. He grabbed a bottle of lube and climbed into the bed next to me.
My cock was already pointing at the ceiling, so Master merely dabbed a small amount of lube onto his fingertip and drew small circles on the dragon's head. I reached behind my head and gripped the brass rail to restrain myself.
Master spent an achingly long time tracing lines of lube on me, not only up and down my aching cock, but along the wings and tail of the dragon. Then he stroked my balls. When he stopped to squirt a generous quantity of lube into his palm, I thought I knew what was coming next.
But then he kissed me. His tongue went deep into my mouth, arrogant as ever. I kissed him back, hard, as I felt his hand on my cock. He kissed me again and again as I his fingers slid up and down the shaft. He took my lower lip gently between his teeth and tugged at it. Then his lips went to my throat.
I roared like an animal and came, shooting once, twice, and once more.
"That's my good slave." Master retrieved some padlocks and locked my wrists and ankles to the headboard. A pillow elevated my ass to a convenient angle. He didn't even clean me off. I watched my semen pool on my chest.
Master lubed himself and fucked me. He did not hold me or kiss me; he knelt upright, his hands behind his head and eyes closed, focusing all his attention on the thrusts he was pounding into me.
