By Bikermike
‘As your punishment for not being able to make me come boy, you will try to excite me by my watching you on the exercise bike that I’ve modified!’ Master said with a chuckle.
I had been kneeling, naked before Master with my wrists cuffed behind my back for twenty minutes working my tongue and lips round his cockhead without success. This was despite him working the back of my head with his hands up and down, sometimes gently, others aggressively. Throughout this ordeal, my own cock remained rock hard.
Master’s body was what every slave would wish to serve: he was mid- forties, gym-muscular but stocky, wearing only a leather body harness and sporting a massive ten-inch erection.
He pulled me up by my ear and dragged me over to the exercise bike. ‘Here boy; see how I have modified the seat,’ he explained, ‘that spike will fit up your arse. It shouldn’t hurt as you sit on it as it’s no wider than a pencil. Your wrists will be fixed to the handlebars as you can see, with these solid manacles, which I’ve welded to the bars. You won’t be able to get off the seat because…’ he pointed to a heavy-looking metal bar hinged to one side of the seat ‘this bar will fit round your waist and will be locked in place.’ He released my wrists from the handcuffs. ‘Now get on it!’