Watching TV
#6 of Commissions by Gruffy
Continuation to the bondage/dom/sub saga for
*
You might wonder why me, Weston, am standing with my paws shackled in leather cuffs attached to chains hanging from the ceiling. You might be puzzled why I have a firm leather ring around my ball sack with several pounds of weights attached to them and pulling my nuts painfully down towards the floor and putting my poor danglers into their extreme limits. You might be surprised to see me outside my usual white coated laboratory look or my neat suit and tie attire, and instead you would find me wearing a leather harness. Maybe you wouldn't recognize me, either, because all truth be told, you couldn't even see my face, anyway. I was wearing a gasmask, one of those horrible real war-like things, heavy rubber, tiny round holes for seeing through, and a thick, smelling rubber hose that hung over my chest and provided my sole airway.
The tip of the hose, unconnected to filters, hung pretty close to my cock, enclosed in a transparent plastic tube today. Robbins was feeling particularly devious and had decided that my usual cage just wouldn't do.
"I think I'll prefer some variety today," he'd told me, waving the key into my cock cage and causing a painful erection to happen, quite spontaneously, as my body envisioned the joys of cumming after two weeks of chastity in the paws of the dirty scientist fox.
No, tonight he had me in this clear tube, and not just any kind of a tube, some kind of a penis pump, obviously, what's with the plastic tube and a pump hanging off the tip, and he'd given it a few squeezes to secure it against my groin, with the vacuum. The suction also had an effect on my cock, the thick slab of meat visible even through my miniscule peepholes on the gas mask. My cock was red, engorged, obviously, and the little bit of pumping had caused the blood vessels over its length to bulge out. Now that I was finally getting a proper erection, it was all out, throbbing happily even in the slightly strange sensation of the cold tube and the suction he had produced by squeezing that strange black rubber bulb with one leather-gloved paw.
There was more laughter from the TV in front of us, but I barely heard it, the mask covered my errand made it difficult to hear anything but the rush of blood in my head, and my own breathing. The eye holes were kind of fogged up, too...making it difficult to see anything beyond blurry shapes moving on the screen. The fox laughed a bit at a joke I didn't catch, and as I looked over to him, which really required me to lean my entire body to the right, I saw that he picked up his glass of wine from the small table next to his cozy armchair. The same one also held a small bowl of assorted nuts, a bottle of lube, and the key to the shackles I was currently wearing.
"Heheheh, this is such a fun episode," Robbins commented, his eyes turning towards me instead of the TV, the fox grinning to me.
"Glad you're enjoying," I mumbled, my voice, all filtered due to the rubber mask.
"I'm sure you are enjoying yourself, too, papa bear," his gloved paw reached and rubbed my nearby thigh, bare, of course, stroking through the thick fur there.
"Makes wonders to my back," I replied.
"Hah!" he smacked my hip and then that paw went for the dangling bulb of the bump...looking directly at me, he gave it another three squeezes to put even more of a vacuum on me.
I gasped at the sensation, feeling my cock bulge inside its tube, pressing to the sides at the base where I was thickest...I was sure if he would keep this going, I might end up possibly filling the entire tube...whether that'd be possible, I wasn't sure, but the fox would probably try something of the sort...maybe...even now he was smirking so delightedly, hearing my gasps.
"Well, you do get a lot of exercise nowdays...as much as I like your ass, being a fat-ass makes a bad sub..." his paw returned to grope over my rear, sliding over the small of my back and grabbing my tail before he moved downwards into the messy crevice of my butt, out of which the base of a remarkably tame rubber butt plug protruded. Robbins meant business with it, too, he smacked on it, causing the pointed tip to poke at my prostate and make my tubed cock throb and pulse...I was probably oozing a bit, too, but I wasn't seeing anything...the eye holes were becoming really foggy with my heavier breathing and perspiration.
"Especially this part..."
He released the pressure, but kept playing with my ass cheeks while he returned his attention to the TV, back from the commercial brake...playing almost casually now, really, as if I was just another amusement, besides the inane programming, the wine, the snacks, and his bear suspended next to him. My ass and my balls...he fondled and rubbed me, feeling up the leather ring upon which the ball weights were attached and gave it another tug...making me bite my teeth together at the intense sensation...
"Very good..."
He smacked my ass with his leather-clad paw and made me snort, which was particularly weird because I could kinda feel it against my belly, flowing from the hose of the mask.
"Very good indeed..."
Not a long moment passed before he was playing with the plug again. poking at the base so that it kept thrusting against my prostate, irregularly and by no means just with my pleasure in mind, rather, to tease me so that I'd make more of the noises he liked hearing from me. Faking them wouldn't do, either, for he'd know...he'd always know, and then he'd spank me, or subjects my poor balls to something even naughtier than the current weight treatment. It was just exactly what he wanted...to hear me display my submission to him by hearing the slutty noises I made.
I couldn't deny it anymore. I'd become a total sub to the fox, big bear or not, he pulled on my strings and made it impossible for me to resist any of his wily suggestions, whether to torment me, humiliate me, or explore the sliding border between pleasure and pain. He'd never let go, either...it was unrelenting and continuous, like even tonight, coming over to his place upon his request, it wouldn't be cuddling on the couch (though even that could happen, sometimes, with me perhaps mummified in a sleepsack with a vibrator in my ass and his paws playing with my dick...)...this wasn't unusual, either, keeping me at a paw's reach so that he could do what he wanted with me, for his amusement.
The TV seemed to be his main attraction, for now...which kinda seemed like a waste of perfectly good bear-domming time...if only I was free, I could do something nice for him, like lick his footpaws, or let him use me as a footrest, or...or anything...I might even get to cum...I would be bound to be let to cum soon...he never went longer than three weeks...saying that was the optimal time to make me reallt despserate, and ready for some milking...sometimes through the butt, sometimes with that machine that'd leave me dry and semi-conscious afterwards, even after several rounds being subjected to it, there was just not getting used to such a thing as that masterfully dangerous sex machine .
Maybe if I'm a good boy.