At Bound Gods, Cassius learns how to truly serve his Master, taking CBT, wax, brutal floggings and crucifixion. This shoot features Cass Bolton and Trenton Ducati. Check them out:
Cassius was late. The Dominus hates late slaves. Fearing the worst, Cassius scurries into the hall with his Dominus’ grapes. Where Cassius expected rage, he instead finds a sly, penetrating gaze on his Master’s face. The Dominus receives the grapes and dismisses the slave. Just as Cassius believes he dodged “attention” from his master, the Dominus reverses course, ordering the subligaria removed from Cassius’ loins. He commands Cassius to get an erection and kicks Cassius to the cold ground for not doing it fast enough. The Dominus cruelly stomps Cassius’ balls, finally bringing his slave to full attention. He coats Cassius’ lean body in hot wax, making his slave squirm in agony as the wax drips on his balls and tongue. Feeling generous, the Dominus offers grapes to Cassius — straight into Cassius’ hungry asshole. After Cassius tastes the grapes from his ass, the Dominus penetrates him with a gigantic cock.
Cassius next finds his arms suspended above his head, bound in a harness over a plank of wood splitting his ass open while enduring an excruciating beating with the 30-lb flogger. Cassius next is crucified with clothespins all over his body; the Dominus helpfully removes them with a cat o’ nine tails until he takes the slave back to the throne. One more vigorous fuck brings the Dominus to the point of ecstasy before glazing his slave’s face in hot cum
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I entered the playroom wearing nothing but a tight skimpy Speedo – and an old sweatshirt. The sweatshirt was small and hung above my waist, so the bulge in the front of my speedo was plainly visible below it. I did this because – in my mind – feeling covered above concentrates the sense of vulnerability I feel onto my Speedo below, and on my bare legs…. it makes me feel naked vulnerable and HORNY. I felt the sensation of near nakedness below my covered torso, and this sense of vulnerability was intense because I knew what was in store for me, especially after seeing a spreader bar with clips on either end, hanging from a chain from the ceiling in the center of the darkish room. I had entered the lair of a leather uniform wearing man I know to be a sadist, to whom I had freely admitted I wanted to experience the sense of complete and utter helplessness with, while indulging in my fetish of wearing a skimpy Speedo. I was walking into a trap of my own making.
