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Sushant is taken to the cuckold party and misses no fun.
Sometimes Michaels would slam the bristles down with all her might, relishing the spasms of pain that shook through the boy up into her own body. Sometimes she would pat him light and fast, increasing speed and force before digging the brush into his flesh, swirling it in slow circles as she nearly came from the kid's screams.
The boy managed to control himself admirably, despite his shouts and the occasional tear. His knees gave out several times, only to scurry back up into position as quick as could be. He only raised his hands once to try to defend himself, lightly pawing Michaels' arm after she had spread him open with one hand and stung his vulnerable asshole hard with the brush. Michaels had smacked away his hands, slapped his wet, whimpering face, and attacked his asshole three more times in retaliation, leaving the boy biting the couch's upholstery through a long shriek.
As fun as this game was, Dr. Michaels grew bored before long. She capped it off by reaching down between her pet's legs and giving his balls an extra hard double slap of the brush before digging the bristles hard against his anus and scraping from his prostate to the tip of his ravenous erection.
Dr. Michaels slipped off the boy's head, tossing the brush at corner of his bed. He fell onto his side, gasping and sweating from both agony and, doubtless the related sensation of very nearly having come. But Michaels gave her pet no chance to rest. She slapped his face several times while pulling him to his feet and shoved him hard atop his own neatly made futon bed.
"Spread it!" she ordered while digging in her bag once more for a large spool of thick, scratchy twine. Jason obeyed, and within a few minutes Dr. Michaels had the boy tied spread eagle atop the bed, wrists and angles fixed tightly to all four metal bedposts.
Michaels took a moment to admire the boy. Bound and helpless on his own bed in his own home, frightened yet horny, his eyes and cock equally desperate for the next vicious gift that she might inflict upon him. He was such a gorgeous little thing, young cute, and lean. Everything about his body was just right-he had the right about muscle on his chest and stomach, and the right amount of fat on his cheeks. The right amount of hair spreading down his abdomen. The right kind of young, pink lips. The right adoring eyes.
But no. No the boy was a pet and could be nothing more, and she didn't appreciate a pet locking eyes with her.
Michaels dug around in her bag and soon found the silken sash of her robe and used it to blindfold Jason. A strong whiff of Lemon Rose perfume penetrated through the growing miasma of "fresh linen" fumes as Michaels secured the soft material in a knot over the boy's eyes. She fetched the trusty belt as well and cinched it in between the boy's teeth as a gag. Yes. That was more like it. The kid couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't speak. A lump of hard young flesh that existed only for her pleasure. Yes. This was how it should always be. This was right.
"You've been a bad boy," Michaels said, scratching a nail down from Jason's helpless throat to his naval. "Very bad! You've thought you could become more than a pet to me. You've been sneaky and manipulative. You thought that so long as you played housemaid and batted your eyes that maybe, just maybe, you could get a leash around me." Michaels slapped her pet hard across the face, relishing his moaning and his teeth clamping against the belt. "Too bad for you I'm a grown woman who's beyond playing little games."
Michaels thought she saw the boy smiling for a moment through the belt at this last remark, and gave him several more enraged slaps.
The evening's next torment didn't lie in the bag.