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I haven't written any kind of prose, erotic or otherwise, in years. At least, not without the help of a partner. *AHEM* Anyway. I hope my grammar and spelling aren't too ridiculous. My paragraph structuring could certainly use some work, but this was a fast, emotional out pouring of an idea that has been lodged in my brain for quite some time. There is gay sex in it. I hope that's what you were expecting. Precum is a horrible term, but I don't know the proper one for pre-orgasm seminal fluid. So bear with me. I don't know for sure if this will retain its current spacing/paragraph indentations.

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Patiently, I wait on my knees for master to return home. Arbitrarily, as far as I knew, today he had left me on my knees, naked, arms bound behind my back and to my ankles, forcing me to remain upright. A plush pillow kept my knees from absorbing too much abuse. My legs were bound together as well, requiring me to work a bit to remain up right - he had left my tail free to

assist in that. I was also blind and deaf. He had put a rather comfortable and snug hood on me, covering my whole head, 'ears', eyes, muzzle, and horns. I could breathe quite comfortably, but I was lost in blackness, my only real connection to the world around me being my tactile sense. And it was preoccupied with other things, like the inflated bulb in my tight little tail pucker, and the bands around my fleshy sack and the base of my very erect penis. I very desperately wanted to tend to myself with my hands - inflate the bulb a bit more, and furiously masturbate - but as I was quite well bound, I was forced to wait for master. Patiently.

My cock bobs a bit as I imagine master walking quietly through the front door, setting his briefcase aside and loosening his tie after a long day at the office. He'll take the time to retrieve his reading glasses, get himself a drink, and take off his work clothes, suit and tie attire being a bit constricting. Master usually greets me in the buff, every gorgeous contour and defined muscle

of his body visible when he decides to remove my hood. I'm never entirely sure what the evening will hold for me, but I trust master completely. I'd never have become his pet, otherwise. I hope tonight involves my mouth, and his cock; that's my favorite.

Master is a bull Orca, if I hadn't mentioned that already. He stands about seven feet tall, give or take an inch. He's very well toned, but not the kind of bulk you'd see on a body builder. More like a long distance runner, or a cyclist. There isn't much remarkable about his markings, as far as I can tell, but he has something of an anomaly among cetacean morphs. Somewhere in his lineage, someone or other had bred with someone who had external genitals, as it were, and master was blessed with a lovely set of swaying orbs contained in a rather rubbery but supple scrotum. I'm quite fond of them. Although I'm much more infatuated with his member... Very large, shall we say. It retains some of his species' traits; very long, almost conical, but his has a defined head, sort of a cone with a flared glans. I'd estimate it at around 20 inches or so, which makes certain sexual positions rather difficult for me. It was designed for breeding with Orca cows, after all, who are much, much larger then myself.

I'm only a hair or two over four feet tall. Somewhat reptilian/draconic, but not really either. My skin is quite smooth. I have a long, slender tail, two 'horns'... there's really not much to talk about. I'll enclose a picture at some point.

I can sense a bit of vibration - being blind and deaf for an extended period of time tends to shift your mind's attention to the senses that remain. I think master is home, but I stay quiet, and wait for him to come get me. I am well behaved, and he treats me quite good as a result. Minutes tick by, and I feel something brush across the tip of my snout, my nostrils the only exposed

bit of skin on my head at the moment. It itches, and I squirm a bit. I can imagine master chuckling a bit, perhaps trilling through his spout, at my predicament. My aroused member bobs up and down as I clench my pelvic muscles; I can feel warm precum dribbling from the tip. Another stretch of isolation, and suddenly I am hoisted up, still bound in my awkward position, and master's strong arms are wrapped around me. I moan, though I'm not sure he can hear me through the gag and hood. He carries me for a bit - probably to the bedroom. Ah, yes, I can feel the bedsheets against my bare skin as he lays me down on my side. He undoes my leg bindings, and the robe keeping my ankle binding and arm bindings tethered together. He lets me stretch a bit, and I feel him climb onto the bed next to me. He lifts me into his lap, holding me against his well muscled chest, and gently rubs my belly for a moment. His hand leaves my skin, and I feel him removing the bits of the mask that block my membrane-like ears.

"Hello, pet." He has such a wonderfully deep voice. Sometimes he... sonars me? Echolocates? It feels very strange, but very good at the same time. I nuzzle at his collar bone, and he undoes the muzzle of the mask, tossing the leather and felt aside,

leaving me blind but able to speak... and perhaps do other things.

"Hello, master," I reply, luxuriating in the feel of his impossibly slick skin against my own bare body. "Was your day well?"

"Mmm, mostly nonsense. Nothing worth dwelling on, good or bad. Rather bland, all told..." The palm of his hand slides down my belly, encircling my cock briefly before sliding further down to give my balls a good squeeze, eliciting a yelp from me. I can feel his chest vibrate as he laughs, and I can feel my own cheeks flush, though it's probably hidden behind the remaining

portion of the mask around my head. "Would you care for some dinner, little one? I'm pretty damn hungry myself." I squeak a bit already very eager to dive head (or mouth) first into whatever sexual escapades he has in store for me this evening, but I don't protest beyond that. He slides from the bed, the mattress rebounding noticeably as his weight leaves it, and then I feel his big hands gripping my shoulders, holding me up until I find my footing, and then leading me into the kitchen. My gait is a bit awkward, the bulb in my ass squeezed inside me with each stride. I expect some kind of jibe at how funny I must look, but I gasp as instead I feel master squeeze the pump dangling from my tailhole, inflating the bulb a bit more, and then leaving me standing in the

middle of the kitchen with my throbbing hardon, blind and unable to tend to myself with my hands.

I hear him start to open cupboards, pull things from the fridge, light the stove, and all I can do is shiver a bit. Master cooks in the buff, too. His skin is quite tough, and little things like hot grease don't really bother him - though his nether regions are less durable, and he always wears an apron. I hear the bare soles of his feet slapping against the linoleum floor, and yelp as

he gives my rump a squeeze as he passes by, his hand apparently having been in the freezer. He begins to sear some kind of meat on the stove - I can hear it sizzle and smell it too. More banging around, pots and pans, boiling water. I do start to feel a bit hungry, but it's battling for priority with my sex drive. As dinner starts to come together, I can hear him start to run the sink to wash things, and he pulls me over to the counter, between him and the running water. He presses me up against the cupboard below the fixture with his thighs, my face pressed against his belly and my raging erection rubbing against his legs. I can feel his own massive girth just behind the cloth apron he has on. It gets quite warm when he's aroused - noticeably so, and I can feel the heat through the thin garment, which just makes me squirm. I want it in my mouth so badly. At least, as much as I can take. Master doesn't want to choke me, but he does get quite a bit in... He keeps me trapped there, rubbing against him and the monster between his legs

while he finishes the dishes. I rub my cheek against his chest needfully, whimpering softly. He'd kept me hard all day, sucking me off right before he went to work, as I was all trussed up, and then slipping the cock ring on when my shaft stood at attention. This was teasing, pure and simple, though I'm sure he liked having my upper body pressed against the base of his cock, too.

I hear the sink shut off, and master wipes his hands on the apron. He steps away from the sink, and the front of my body becomes quite cold without the heat of his body, and massive organ, pressed against me. I shiver again. Master puts whatever he's been cooking on a plate - I think - and sets it on the table - I think. Suddenly I find myself lifted off the ground again,

being thrown over the shoulder of my large Orcan keeper and taken to what I can only guess is the table in the den. He sits,and I find myself in his lap. He undoes my arm bindings, and I gratefully stretch the stressed limbs. He drapes something soft - a blanket, I think - over me, and scoots the chair forward, leaving my chest flush with the table. I find myself trapped again,

though I don't see myself wanting to escape - his throbbing cetacean cock presses firmly against my back, as he begins to eat and feed me at the same time. A beef dish of some kind. Very good, though it's almost impossible to focus on it... My hands hang at my sides, rubbing master's thighs, knowing I am not allowed to attend to myself withou permission. I can feel warm fluid start to run down my back - master's huge dick starting to leak copious amounts of precum. I can feel his intakes of breath becoming slightly faster.

He wraps his arms around my waist, empty dinner plate left for later, and pushes the chair

away from the table, standing. He lifts me up, and then lowers me back down, wherein I find myself with his Orcan length between my legs, my soft sack and tortured manhood rubbing along its length as he takes us back to - I think - the bedroom, the fact confirmed as he slides onto the bed, mattress creaking under him. He leans back against the pillow covered headboard, holding

my arms at my side.

I'm not sure if the reader has any experience with males of the cetacean variety, but most of them have some degree of prehensility (Most likely not a word) in their penis. That is to say, it can be moved consciously. Not nearly as flexible as an elephant's trunk, but it leads to some interesting bedroom practices. One of which being the situation I find myself in now, my arms restrained, straddling my master's cock as one would a riding animal, and feeling the head of his member press against my lips. Difficult to do when he is fully aroused, the organ losing quite a bit of its flexibility, but bringing it from horizontal to vertical is possible.

I, of course, lean forward eagerly, engulfing the first few inches of his cock in my needy maw. The head is not nearly as substantial as on certain other species - horses come to mind - but master's member is quite uniformly thick, slightly less then the width of a soda can. I find it quite satisfying, in either hole. It's much more massive in the last few inches, but master would

never be able to get me that far down without serious harm, so it doesn't present any sort of problem during the current sucking of master's cock, teasingly unable to use my hands to assist my muzzle and tongue as master holds my arms prisoner, but quite happy with where the evening is going. Master's cock is ever so satisfying, as I said, and giving him oral is really my favorite activity. My chance to give him as much pleasure as he gives me, without him having to exert any effort.

My tongue rubs rapidly across the glans of his cock head, coaxing a moan at last from my Orca lover. A squirt of salty precum punctuates the noise, flooding my muzzle, rivulets of it escaping my muzzle as I try to swallow what I can. Master finally releases my hands, allowing me to leave his lap. I pull my muzzle from his tip, strands of saliva and his slimy fluids trailing

from my lips to his cock, and shift around to between his legs, getting on my knees and wrapping both hands around the middle of his dick. I hear him groan, and immediately lower my head onto his cock again. I relax my throat, as much as I can anyway, and begin to take him deep, my hands sliding slowly along his wet shaft. I breath slowly through my nostrils, more and more of his length disappearing into my hungry muzzle. My throat swallows reflexively, over and over again, his testosterone laden fluids starting to fill my stomach. My hands drift down his fleshy flag pole (what a silly metaphor that is), and give the base a very rough rub down. I can feel master's thighs start to tremble a bit - I like to think I'm good at what I do, and with the frequency master let's me suck his cock, I think he agrees - and I reach down, feeling for his pendulous sack. Cupping his baseball sized testes, I begin to squeeze them gently, almost massaging them. Master starts to trill from his blowhole (not what you think, I assure you, it's whale anatomy), and his hands come down on the back of my head, pushing his cock further into my throat. I've learned to expect this, and I relax as much as I can to prevent myself from choking - it's still quite difficult. I might also mention that when cetacean males orgasm, it's quite a load.

Master generally orgasms for ten or so seconds, holding my head firmly on his pulsating cock while it fills my belly with his sloshing seed. My gut tends to get a bit distended. Not horribly so, but it definitely bulges a bit when he gives his load to me. Tonight, master seemed to cum for almost a minute. There was... so much. Refusing his seed was not an option in my position; his

cock head was quite a ways past my throat, and emptying his balls directly into my gut. I start to gag, but master can't hear me; at least I think he can't hear me. I pass out for a bit, and I come to flat on my back, on top of my master's chest. I try to tell him I'm fine, but I just sort of gurgle, unable to really form the words. He laughs, planting a kiss on top of my head, and starts

to jerk me off. I am full of Orca seed, weak in the joints, and still have a raging hard on, and it's perhaps ten seconds before I'm shooting my load into the air, strands of it splashing onto my chest and muzzle, probably the mask, and certainly master's face as well. In the stupor of post-orgasm, I'm only vaguely aware of master removing the bands from my cock and balls, and peeling off the last of my hood. He tilts my chin back, kissing me forcefully on the mouth, and tells me what I already know - "I love you." But I enjoy hearing it none the less.

"I love you too, master." I'm not sure I enunciated that very well, but his smile tells me he got the gist of it. I'm asleep in a matter of minutes, master's arms wrapped around my chest and one of his hands gently stroking the slight bulge in my belly.