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"Pet," said the Lady, "of late you have not behaved towards me with the humility I expect from you. I believe a correction is in order."

The dragon tried not to show a reaction, keeping his head and paws on the floor. While it meant she wanted to punish him for [i]something,[/i] it didn't mean she had discovered the plans for the coup; he awaited her orders, knowing the time was not right. Not until his collaborators could free him from his restraints.

"I believe a night spent in silent reflection of your recent willfulness will help bring you to heel before a sharper punishment is required." She motioned to her attendants, and his stomach fell and his shaft twitched in his slit in unwelcome arousal when they dragged his hood in from the supply room outside his cell. He had a crucial part to play in tonight's events and he could hardly perform it blind!

"Mistress--" he began, and she whirled around with an energy that told him whatever he said next might be exactly what she was trying to put a stop to. His mind raced. What could he say to avoid being hooded that would still sound obedient?

"If I have displeased you," he said after a long moment, "I beg you only to tell me what I have done, that I may correct it immediately." He tried to keep his claws from flexing in their mittens, restless to finally rebel yet knowing the moment must wait. Even at his size, when he was this well chained... "Please tell me how I may serve you better."

One of her delicate eyebrows arched upward, and he tried to look perfectly submissive and harmless, hunched down as low as such a large dragon could. For a long moment he dared to hope it was enough, even as her attendants approached with the hood, three of them needed to carry it and the massive gag that hung from within. He strove to keep his gaze on her fine heeled shoes, not to look at the heavy gear, not to squirm from the thought and memory of how it would feel to have to wear it, or to try to fulfill his role while blind and mute! Through it all his length continued to stir until it pressed against his chastity, hips yearning to grind against something as the pause drew out, giving him a moment to believe maybe he had convinced her, only for her to smile one of her sinister smiles. "You may spend the night reflecting on your mistakes, so that in the morning you are ready to give me the answers yourself. I suggest you think consider carefully, so that you can answer me correctly."

With a snap of her fingers the men approached, first removing the muzzle cage from his jaws, and then one of them lifted the tip of the fat, humiliatingly phallic gag to offer to his snout. He swallowed a whine of dismay, he flexed his claws and he squirmed in his chains... but he submitted. What else could he do? Any resistance would prompt more bondage, and a close inspection would surely find the heavy chain of his leash had been very nearly filed through... but he could not yet fight back and hope to win. So he opened his jaws, blushing and shuddering as the heavy shape flopped onto his tongue and they slid it and the airways back, back, his breaths coming faster in anxious anticipation as it approached his throat. He hadn't had to wear the hood for months but he was so intimately familiar with how it felt...

He flinched from the sensation of the airways finding his windpipe, his eyes tearing, and the men gave him hardly a moment before they pushed the gag deeper, forceful and impatient enough that his throat closed against it and the press nearly made him retch. They only tried again, merciless, and then the third time he finally managed to relax and swallow when the tip of the shaft encroached, throat forced strainingly outward by its degrading girth. Deeper they forced it, stuffing his gullet, until its base was in his jaws and they could wrap the inky black elastic material of the hood over his head, pulling it along his snout without giving him any chance to grow acclimated to the presence now filling his maw and throat! There was no sound of protest to be made, not even a moan of dismay, only a huff that softly whistled through the breathing tubes as the latex pinned his jaws around the gag and they yanked it further, snatching away his sight of the smirking lady and replacing it with an impenetrable deep black. The dragon could only lie there submissively and let it happen, out of practice with the gag and trying not to gulp on it or press against it as her attendants got the hood fully over his head and buckled it shut, trapping him inside.

Now he could only sense them by hearing, and even that the latex muffled a little; though he longed to cock his head, listen to their treading and better pinpoint them in his cell, he forced himself to lie still as their heavier footfalls seemed to retreat, and then low, distinct clicks signaled the Lady's approach. Then he could go by feel, as one of her hands stroked his nose, and then his cheek, exploring where his jaws were parted to fit around the cockgag crammed between them. Higher still his arousal raged, cock throbbing impotently in its prison while she tauntingly rubbed his forehead, and then his bulging, strained throat, reveling in how helpless her pet was to dislodge the gag that so humiliated and muted him. "Think long, and hard..." She lingered on that word while his dragonhood strove to be [i]that[/i] hard... "about how you have disappointed me, pet. If I am not satisfied with your responses, you will be deepthroating yourself for a very long time indeed."

That the gag was modeled on his own cock was only further humiliation, not just because he hadn't been unlocked from chastity in so achingly long; he had never been anywhere near this long or this thick even when allowed to get hard! And yet there were times he was so desperate to cum he wished he [i]could[/i] be allowed to choke on himself like this, to suck and gulp if that was what it took for an orgasm, and yet instead he was trapped swallowing this huge inert shape while his own length throbbed and strained in strict and unforgiving chastity, denied the freedom it demanded... His throat bobbed, mute, beneath her hand, and she made a soft pleased noise. "Provided I do not simply decide a pet such as you is best seen and not heard, of course... You're always such a good pet with your hood on. Goodnight," she said, and then the steps of her and her attendants faded, exiting his cell, with the heavy thud and rattling latch to signal the door sealing shut, locking him in alone.

Shackled, mittened, and leashed to the wall by a heavy--barely intact--chain, trapped in a cell that only the Lady herself could unlock from outside.

He clenched his throat against the gag, longing to push it out of the way, to somehow dislodge the hood so he could see his cell. The bonds, the leash, the locked door... the aching need in chastity... those were all expected; but once he broke the leash, he'd be able to hobble over to the door and operate a small emergency handle that kept someone from being trapped in the cell with him... or at least, that was the plan when it had been assumed he'd be able to see what he was doing!

He lifted a forepaw, tilted his head so he could reach despite the short chain linking his cuffs, and rubbed the sturdy padded leather over where the hood covered his eyes, the two smooth materials gliding easily across each other, his claws useless within unable to grasp or cut anything. In two hours the castle would be asleep, and there would be rebels outside his door waiting for him to open it so they could free him to take part in their assault. Though he'd never touched the handle, before he'd been confident he could operate it... but now he was blind, unable to see his objective, and mute, unable to warn anyone of the complication in the plan, with events surely in motion soon and little time to figure out how he was going to get out of his cell to fulfill them! Without him, a dozen discontented humans would be hardly an annoyance--but with a free and frustrated dragon to lead the way?

The plan is done for, the defeated helpless submissive part of him whispered. They would fail without him, would be captured, would die, and then who knew how long he might have to wait for another chance to be free! He'd stay a prisoner, stay pent up in that maddening achingly tight chastity belt... He had to do something about the hood, he had to do [i]something,[/i] or everything would be for naught--but what was he supposed to do! His breath quickened through the narrow breathing tubes, his heart hammered as the thought of never knowing freedom stirred such anxious dreadful feelings deep in his chest, and he rubbed his mitten firmly against the hood, along his cheek, he would be doomed if he couldn't get it off! His claws curled and clenched and yet only pressed against the padding of their mitts, the smooth blunt exterior providing no grip and no cutting power as it slipped over the latex; he tried to moan in dismay, but his throat only pressed against the intrusion stuffed down it and no sound came out! His breaths came still faster as he arched his neck, tried to pinch his head between his two cuffed paws--he could barely get them around his snout!--and squeeze, and pull, somehow move the gag, but they slipped off his nose just as quickly without making his hood budge at all. He rubbed his mitts together directly and yanked against his shackles, [i]those[/i] obstacles equally secured, and even a howl of frustration was muted to a noiseless gust of air, the feeling of the gag down his throat only deepening his panic when his gullet flexed around it and his desire to reject it made him feel like he was about to choke despite his steady supply of air. His neck arched and he scrabbled at his nose, his cheeks, even trying to rub against his throat with his mitts, trying to swallow or clench and trying to push on the huge dragoncock with his tongue, and nothing was working, he was trapped and choking and achingly horny and nothing he did could save him!

His heart hammered against his ribs in panic, urged him to try with still greater urgency, but panic alone wouldn't break open his hood, or free his claws from their mitts, or remove the blockage from his throat... all it [i]did[/i] do was make him dizzy and lightheaded and make his cock strain even harder against his chastity when all his desperate efforts to slice open or unbuckle or peel off the hood did nothing! His paw slid uselessly over the tight buckle, his tongue was pinned by the sheer girth of his gag, there was nowhere for his throat to push with the hood so tight, and his senses swam, the floor tilting beneath him as he gasped and struggled on in the impulsive, impossible instinct to free himself. He had to get free had to get free had to get [i]hard[/i] he had to but he couldn't and he just had to keep trying! His throat clamped and squeezed with muted attempts to yowl, his tail curled between his legs to grind against the belt almost of its own accord while he fought his hood and mitts, the desperation and the lust and the disorientation addling him. Everything he wanted to do was stymied, he couldn't [i]cum[/i] he couldn't get hard or see or speak or free himself in any way no matter how he tried! He thrashed and flailed and twisted against all his chains, the mute dragon's bound tantrum contained by his bondage until at last he flopped onto his side with his chest heaving, defeated, exhausted... left only with the urge to hopelessly stroke over the chastity belt where his slit was concealed, thrusting and rubbing and feeling nothing except the furious ache of his dragonhood straining to get anywhere near as big as his gag.

But even that got him nowhere, even if his heavy thrusts felt teasingly [i]almost[/i] satisfying; but with his thoughts so scattered, he couldn't even think to stop himself, so he continued to grind, to rub, to hump against mittens and tail as his cock throbbed where it was trapped and contained on the other side of that steel plate. His throat clenched and bobbed around his gag with every stifled attempt to moan, his breaths whooshed in and out, as gradually the terror receded and he tried to collect himself.

Gods, he was [i]so[/i] horny...

He tried to moan again, his gullet flexing around the girth of his gag as his own length pulsed in envy. It was all right, he told himself. Tried to tell himself. He had worn this hood before; he wasn't going to choke. He was bound, senseless, really really needed to cum, but he was all right... For now. He didn't know how long he had struggled--not that he could he easily track the time while blinded in his cell even when he wasn't panicking--but he needed to be ready to open the door, and since he couldn't get his hood off, he'd just have to figure out how to do that without his sight. Once the other rebels were here, they'd be able to take it off with the rest of his restraints.

First, he needed to stop pawing at his belt, and though his arousal continued to rage beneath it he managed to pull his forepaws away from his belly--eventually. He shuddered in denial, but that was the first step. Then, slowly, he gathered all four shackled paws beneath him and stood, his head swinging back and forth to feel for the leash on his collar... and yet he felt nothing. He sat on his haunches and lifted his paws to feel for it, only to find no leash--just a short dangling length of broken chain. He must have snapped the file-weakened link while he'd struggled! That was his first stroke of good luck this evening and hopefully not his last... except that without the leash to anchor him, he realized didn't know where in his cell he [i]was.[/i] He certainly had no idea how much he might have twisted and turned in his thrashing, and for all he knew he might be facing the back wall. It might be barely a paw's width in front of his snout!

His wings didn't even stir to try to feel the space around him, he was so accustomed to the binders pinning them to his back; instead he tentatively reached forward with his mittens, further, further, waving them out ahead of him, and though he faintly heard the chain clinking he didn't feel anything there. Next he tried his tail, and though a cuff at its midpoint chained to his ankle cuffs kept him from extending it very far, he lifted it as far as he could and waved it gently from side to side... but he didn't find anything with that limb either! Though he knew his cell wasn't [i]that[/i] large, the lack of landmarks made it feel for a moment like a black void stretching endlessly around him where he could wander, lost, for as long as he was confined to that hood... He gulped around the gag and shuddered, tossing his head gently, his dragonhood still pressing against his belt. He knew he was in his cell. He just had to feel his way to a wall and go from there, bumping into a wall wouldn't be [i]that[/i] bad, and it'd tell him where he was!

It was easy to think that--impossible to say that--yet harder to [i]do.[/i] Walking backward without getting tangled in the ankle-and-tail chains was nearly impossible, and with the cuffs so short, walking sideways was so very slow--well, walking in [i]any[/i] direction was so slow! In the end he resigned himself to cautiously inching his way forward, with his tail waving to one side, then the other as he went, in attempt to feel a wall coming up beside to tell him if he was heading into a corner. Every step was hesitant, trying to keep his head back and his paws forward so he could feel what was coming with his mitts before his nose, and the further he went the more certain he was that the next step would bring a bump, the more useless he felt without his sight, the more he felt his need instead. And that tension only increased with the next step, the next, and the next...

[i]Hlk![/i] his throat bobbed when he swallowed, startled by the bump to his paw. There! It felt like it took forever--he almost missed when he'd been hooded more frequently and been better accustomed to blindness, just to make him less frightened of hitting anything!--but finally he'd felt his way to one of the walls, turning to lean his shoulder against it, rubbing it gently with his neck to try to determine which it was. Three out of four would be stone, the last would have his heavy wood-and-iron door... This one felt like stone against his scales, though he shuffled to lean his whole side against it, just in case the door was behind him, and again felt just the cool stone blocks. Which meant he needed to stumble blindly forward along it, again, to locate the next in his search for that door... He tried to steel himself, and shuffled forward once again, rubbing along the wall as he went so he didn't lose the one he'd found, trying to pick up the pace a little and gaining a bit of confidence as that helped to ground him.

Perhaps too confident--he let his neck relax, and his nose got out in front of his paws so that he bumped his gag-stuffed snout into the looming stone wall first instead! The impact pressed his gag still deeper for a moment and he strove to swallow another rush of panic--not the gag, not swallowing the gag, even though his throat was so strained from wrapping around it and he longed so badly for it to be gone! His breath caught briefly and he shuddered and he humped the air, trying to clench his claws in frustration so his gullet wouldn't clench up around the huge cock instead, gasping, shivering... He was all right. Someone would get this awful, teasing, strict thing out of his throat soon...

Or they'd [i]better,[/i] when the Lady was threatening to keep him hooded who knew how long--and that was when she didn't even yet know of their plot to overthrow her and escape!

He tried to ignore how the thought only seemed to make him feel his arousal still more strongly. He needed to get out of that chastity belt just as desperately! Which meant getting the door open so someone could take off all his restraints, which meant finding the door handle. And the door itself. He gulped over the gag, and flinched and squirmed from the difficulty, then navigated the corner to feel for, he hoped, the warmer, gentler surface of wood planks that must have come from truly massive trees to be thick as they were. But he rubbed his way along the wall and instead found the dangling chain of his leash, and he nearly tripped over the discarded end on the floor. This was the opposite of where he wanted to be!

His tailtip lashed and cock twitched in impatience. He didn't know how much time he had, but he could imagine the rebels standing outside his cell, waiting, needing urgently for him to open the door but afraid to knock loudly for fear of making too much noise, being trapped there while he was so, so helpless on the other side... He shuddered, his hips rocked in need, and he abandoned the wall, striking out--he guessed--straight across the room to find the door. He stumbled more confidently for a few hobbled steps while his tail could still touch the wall he'd left and he thought he knew where he was, and then a few more while he was confident he wouldn't collide with his destination so soon... and then he was in that empty void again, only certain of the floor beneath his paws and guessing through the latex over his eyes at how far away the walls might be. Anxious tension made his throat tighten on his gag, his wings flexing in their binders and breaths coming in little gasps as even though he kept his head pulled back his strongest memory at the moment was how he'd banged his snout into a wall and jarred the gag the last time he'd tried to orient himself! He couldn't whine... just keep shuffling with more and more tentative caution, until he was barely even crawling as he approached the door. Or so he thought, and thought, reflexive urge to avoid another thump to his snout slowing him until he barely dared move, extending his front paws as far as he could, scooting forward, and feeling more and more helpless and worked up until...

There! A hard surface. Relief rushed through him, he straightened and he shook himself snout to tail as he leaned his shoulder up against what felt like a part of the door. He was here, at least he thought! But now he needed to find the handle--a small object meant to be grasped by human hands, close to the ground, that he might have trouble even feeling through his mitts... He'd need to use the tip of his tail, he'd known that even when planning, but first he needed to figure out where it even was!

He rubbed the side of his head against the door, throat squeezing the gag when he tried to growl. If he could just [i]see![/i]

Hopefully he'd get the hood off soon. He heaved a breath, humped the air a few times, then began to search the door by feel, slowly rubbing his mitts back and forth across the surface at what he thought was the correct height. Almost immediately he felt a large, circular object, and leaned his foreleg against it to identify it without the mitten's padding in the way--no, that was a bolt in the iron banding that held the planks together, he needed to be lower than that. He tried again, lower down, shaft still aching impatiently as his bondage forced him to make such slow, guesswork efforts to find what he was looking for, where was it, that was just a ridge in the wood, or was he too low now? He gulped softly and shuddered, tension building again until he finally felt something that seemed like it was actually in the right spot!

Now to get his tail onto it. Holding his mitt over it--he thought--he pivoted his hindquarters so he could curl his tail past and now perform a similar search with its tip, feeling across the wood for his mitten, then the little metal knob... There.

The dragon sagged in place, relieved. Even without his sight, even after how panicked he'd been, he'd found the handle. He curled the tip of his tail around it as tightly as he could, trying not to quiver at how slippery it felt. He hadn't had the freedom to test, he'd only hoped he could actually turn it; but surely if he squeezed tightly enough he'd be able to make it work! He tried to shimmy his tail just a little, and thought he might have felt it turn a little, but it was difficult to tell. Either way, he was in position; now he just needed to wait for his collaborators to arrive to free him and [i]at last[/i] set the dragon loose against the Lady and anyone else who got between him and her.

Time crawled by, or so it seemed to him. His vision remained utterly dark beneath latex, not that there was anything in his cell he hadn't spent untold hours staring at to begin with; but the hood left him with still fewer distractions from the ache between his legs and the ache in his throat, both straining, both trapped in place. With his tail clinging to the handle, he couldn't put it back between his hinds to grind against--and as much as it wasn't the time, all the whirling tension and helplessness and struggles of the day and all the many days before since he'd been locked away had him feeling so horribly pent up! He huffed instead of moaning, his throat bobbed, and he squirmed as he imagined it wrapped around his own shaft--finally free, finally hard, finally getting proper pleasure!--instead of just the gag, how amazing it would feel, the relief and the bliss and the [i]climax![/i] His claws curled, he thrust a little more firmly on nothing, his tongue pressed up into the shaft pinning it and his throat clenched and flexed as he couldn't help but fantasize swallowing himself, enjoying such a release as he hadn't known in so long... He panted, he shuddered, and for a little while lost himself fellating his gag, while his need welled up more and more strongly behind the belt, encouraged by his thoughts and by his increasingly rapid impotent humping of the air, until his cock throbbed near-painfully from how hard it was trying to get out and he would have been moaning [i]loudly[/i] in desire if his gullet hadn't been so stuffed! Instead his throat could only work the massive cockgag like he wished he could work himself, and only the fact that he was squeezing the tip of his tail around the knob just to help with the tension kept him from forgetting to hold onto it while his lust so occupied him. Once he was finally free...

He couldn't even guess how long he waited there, stoking his lust higher and higher while he should have been thinking through plans and preparing the fury he'd need to show once the restraints were off, but finally it came: soft taps, then firmer knocks against his door, and he flinched, huffed soundlessly when he tried to muffle a response, and twisted his tail against the handle. His scales only slipped--he shuddered--and he tried the other direction, relieved to feel, he thought at least a little rotation. But hardly any! He stopped, his tail aching from how long he'd had it wrapped there to make sure he didn't lose the handle's location, and then squeezed down harder and tried again. Come on-- come on! The knob would twist a little and then snap back, some internal spring resisting the friction he could manage with his clenched tail, and his jaws worked beneath the hood in frustration, air huffing out silently in place of his growls. The knocking resumed, a little more urgently--were they afraid of being found? He couldn't hear anyone speaking, and he certainly couldn't try to ask or let them know the difficulty he was having! He just had to keep trying. He had to do this. He had to let them in so he could be set free, so he could [i]be[/i] free, so he could cum!

He tried, he paused, he thrust in aching pent up frustration, he tried some more. There had to be a way--some way to brace himself, to squeeze tighter, to wrap his tail more so it wouldn't keep [i]slipping--[/i] He felt a little more rotation that time and he tried again. Again. Huff, hfff, hllmk, huff...!

[i]There![/i]

The knob twisted further and the small inset door swung open at last. The rebels could come in, they could set him free, he'd finally be out of this degrading, frustrating, arousing captivity! He slumped in relief, keeping his head near the floor so they'd be able to reach the buckle and take off that damned hood first. He could hear two or three steps of footsteps, one of which approached his snout from the side, and when their hand pressed to his cheek he leaned against it, quivering in tension. Get that thing off... get the gag out of his throat, now, please!

"Are you ready to get us out of here?" they whispered.

Of course he was! This was no time to reaffirm their commitment, that would have been days ago--just let him out! He nodded urgently.

"Ready to attack the Lady?"

He nodded again, his tail twitching and paws shuffling in impatience.

There was a short pause, then they said, "you really can't make a sound in that, can you?"

His tongue pressed against the gag, his throat bobbed, neither of which could budge the shaft's girth, and his horny, frustrated groan came out only as a low huff. Who cared? Let him out already!

He felt a touch below his throat, where the hood was buckled, and he turned his head a little so they could reach more easily. Come on come on-- There was a little rattle, a metallic clicking, and then, "good." [i]What!?[/i] "It is no more than you deserve, pet, so get used to it."

That was no rebel--it was the Lady herself! He had never recognized her whispers, but when she spoke at normal volume her voice was unmistakable! He recoiled, hind paws and tail tangling on their chain as his forepaws flew to his throat. No no no no no--this hood was supposed to come [i]off![/i] Where were his conspirators! He tripped and fell heavily onto his side, still scrabbling his mittens against the hood's buckle and now feeling a small, hard shape there through the padding. She'd-- she'd added a padlock!

She didn't even have to raise her voice when he started trying to howl whatever protests or excuses might have possibly come to mind, throat clamped and working against his gag uselessly. "It was clearly a mistake to give you any privileges at all, pet, if this is how you used them! [i]Plotting[/i] against me! Thinking of rebellion instead of obedience! Well you can [i]keep[/i] that hood, if this is what you think of your Lady."

He felt like he was choking again. He needed his throat clear--he needed to hear, he needed to speak, he needed a way to defend himself against her, to blame others, to beg for mercy or forgiveness!--but his mittens only slipped over the smooth surface of his hood, his throat bobbed and his jaws flexed beneath the taut material with no way to dislodge the huge humiliating shape. "Hhlgk-- Hhhff-- Hhhhm--" The sounds that made it through were hardly audible even to him, they were nothing even close to speech, his heart racing and chest heaving and chaste cock throbbing as he twisted and struggled against hood and mitts and cuffs to find a way out. Please-- He needed it off!

"That is a [i]special[/i] lock, pet," she said, standing beyond the range of his desperate, futile attempts against his restraints. "It has no keyhole. No [i]key.[/i] And if ever I miss the adorable pleading look in your eyes, if ever I think you deserve any mercy or relief, I will see that lock and remember you cannot be trusted with anything but the most [i]strict[/i] control."

[i]No![/i] No no no she couldn't-- His neck flexed in rejection but no bellows or howls or whines made it through, a hollow pit of dread seeming to swallow his belly as his mittens skidded uselessly across the hood, his tongue pinned to the floor of his maw, his dragonhood pulsing with such horribly powerful lust beneath the chastity belt--and surely [i]that[/i] was now just as unlikely to come off as his hood! He writhed and he kicked and he humped his tail, huffing and gasping, desperate--powerless-- There was nothing he could do!

"And I see we'll need to get you a new leash, as well. Still," she mused, "if there's one comfort I can take from this evening, it's that you used the last words I ever let you speak to ask how you could serve me better. I think this answers nicely."

His snout swung towards the sound of her voice, shook back and forth in despair. Please--she couldn't leave him like this, there had to be [i]something[/i] he could do for a reprieve! He needed his voice, his eyes, his shaft... She had to let him out of this...

But her voice was stern. "It is far too late to swallow your pride now, pet... It seems you'd rather choke on it anyway." His throat bobbed almost of its own accord, feeling the shape of the gag stuffed down it while his shaft strained so fervently for freedom. "Be good, or I will need to find a way to be still more firm with you."

Then she and whoever who had come with her left, and that little door he'd struggled so hard to open slammed shut again. There were no rebels coming--maybe they had been discovered, maybe they had never existed, only indulging him as a test set by the Lady or immediately snitching to her before being told to see how far he would be willing to go. He didn't know, he couldn't ask, he couldn't take it-- He was [i]doomed.[/i] How would he get free now?

There was no answer, there was only that yawning pit under his ribs that told him there was no escape, no rescue coming. His breath hitched and the manic desperation hit him again--there had to [i]had to[/i] be a way! Somehow! He rubbed his hood, pressed snout against mitts and tried to feel for the gag, throat working and tongue struggling to push against it but with the hood on so tight there was nowhere for it to go, and with no claws--with the hood now locked in place for good-- He shuddered, his hips bouncing and his breath coming in rapid gusts through the airways. He couldn't take it--he'd do anything to get out, get hard, get his voice and his senses back but he [i]couldn't![/i] He huffed and clenched and wheezed, he rubbed smooth leather mitts over his hood and his bulging throat and his shackles and the curve of metal that trapped his slit throbbing, aching, indescribably aroused behind his chastity belt, scrabbling there and grinding just as desperately, uselessly, only labored huffs escaping him as he writhed and arched and fought, thrust, swallowed...

But he'd failed. No way out. [i]No way out.[/i] Why did that thought make him even hornier! His mitts rubbed harder, his hips rocked faster, but the belt ensured he got nowhere no matter how his cock throbbed and ached. It was too much to process, the utter powerlessness, the arousal, the hopelessness of wanting back his senses or his voice... He gasped, he huffed, he could not even [i]moan![/i]

He might never again. And it turned him on so much, the denial so humiliating, that some part of him was so [i]excited[/i] by it, and now that piece had gotten its wish...