By Greg Alexander
Unsurprisingly, I didn’t sleep well that night.
For one thing, since I had now been tied in a spread eagle position, my hands bound behind my back and my torso pressed down onto the coffee table because the dog collar around my neck was connected by a tight leash to my balls underneath the table, it’s small wonder that I wasn’t very comfortable. Just try leaning all the way forward, with your ass sticking out in the air and your legs tied apart in a spread eagle position. It hurts like hell — all your calf muscles are burning with pain and your lower back kills. Then imagine the pain of having a taut rope looped securely around your balls, which is pulled on whenever you try to raise your head. Then imagine sleeping that way.
What was worse, my ass was still on fire from the 64 plus fierce, all out spankings Trevor had sadistically delivered to me with his paddle before climbing into bed.
But most urgently, I desperately needed to cum, and my inability to do so — to even so much as stroke my cock — was preventing me from sleeping a wink.
Trevor, on the other hand, slept like a log, as was evident from the sound of his heavy breathing throughout the night. Of course, all I could really see throughout the entire night were the massive soles of Trevor’s feet, which dominated my field of vision — they still had a strong manly smell, which in any event I couldn’t get away from, as my face was completely immobilized. The smell of his feet only served to make me hornier than ever.