Page 78 of Body and Soul

“Oh fuck,” I gasped, gripping the sink as the vibrations sent shockwaves of pleasure through my core. It was unlike anything I'd ever felt—so direct and relentless against that sensitive bundle of nerves. My cock jerked and drooled a thick strand of pre-cum onto the floor as I clenched helplessly around the toy, trying to adjust to the intense new sensations.

I threw a wild-eyed glance over my shoulder to see Shepherd leaning against the kitchen doorway, a small remote in his hand and a wickedly amused glint in his dark eyes. He'd been watching me this whole time, I realized with a shiver.

“Something wrong, Eli?” he asked, toying with the remote. The vibrations intensified, and I bit back a whimper, my knees buckling as pleasure sparked white-hot through me. Shepherd's lips quirked into a small, satisfied smile as he watched me squirm and gasp. “Better get back to your chores then.”

With that, he turned and strode out of the kitchen, leaving me trembling and aching, the plug still buzzing away mercilessly inside me. I gritted my teeth and tried to finish the dishes, but it was nearly impossible to focus on anything but the relentless vibrations against my prostate and the throb of my neglected cock.

The buzzing didn’t let up until I was almost done with the dishes, and by then I was a panting, shaky mess. My cock was painfully hard and leaking a steady stream of pre-cum. I fought the urge to stroke myself to completion, recalling Shepherd's command. I wouldn't come without his permission.

I moved on to vacuuming next, figuring the noise would help drown out my desperate little whimpers. But as I bent over to plug in the machine, the plug buzzed back to life.

“Ah! Oh fuck, oh fuck,” I gasped, white-knuckling the vacuum handle as my vision nearly whited out from the intense pleasure. I gritted my teeth again and powered through, forcing myself to focus on the vacuum's monotonous back and forth. But it was a losing battle. The searing pleasure radiating from that secret spot inside me was inescapable, all-consuming. It built and built with every movement, every clench of my muscles around the thick silicone splitting me open.

Sweat dripped down my temples as I fought the urge to surrender to the ecstasy sparking through my nerves. My cock felt painfully hard, impossibly swollen and heavy as it bounced against my stomach with each step, smearing pre-cum in sticky threads across my tattooed skin.

Just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, teetering on the edge of orgasm, the vibrations suddenly cut off. I nearly crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath. My hole clenched desperately around the now still plug, trying instinctively to reignite that maddening pleasure.

A low chuckle from behind me made me whirl around, still panting. Shepherd leaned against the doorframe, remote in hand, a sadistic glint in his dark eyes as he took in the wrecked picture I made—naked, flushed, and aching for release.

“You're doing so well, Eli,” he praised. “Keep up the good work and maybe you’ll earn yourself a reward.”

I swallowed hard, Shepherd's praise and dark promise sending a shiver down my spine. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” I managed, my voice coming out hoarse and shaky.

Shepherd gave me one last heated look, eyes dragging over my trembling, sweat-slicked body, before turning to leave. He paused in the doorway. “Remember, Eli—your safe word isIcarus. Use it if you need to stop or take a break at any point,” he reminded me, his deep voice serious.

I nodded jerkily. “I will, Sir. But I don't think I'll need it,” I added, injecting a note of stubbornness into my breathless voice. I was determined to prove I could take whatever he dished out. To be good for him.

Shepherd's lips quirked, something like pride gleaming in his eyes. “Carry on.” And with that, he was gone, leaving me to compose myself and refocus on my tasks.

I took a few deep, steadying breaths, trying to will my raging hard-on to die down a bit. But it was useless. The plug's presence was inescapable, a maddening fullness and pressure that kept me aching and on edge.

I gritted my teeth and forced myself to keep cleaning, trying to ignore the insistent throb of my cock and the maddening pressure of the plug stretching me open. The hardwood floors proved to be a special kind of torture - every time I bent over to scrub a stubborn spot, the plug would shift and press mercilessly against my prostate, making stars burst behind my eyelids.

By the time I finished mopping, my thighs were trembling and slick with sweat, my breath coming in harsh pants. I had never been so hard for so long in my life. My cock felt impossibly heavy, jutting out flushed and angry from my body, the piercing through the head glinting in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Every step, every movement sent a fresh jolt of painful pleasure zipping up my spine as the plug jostled inside me.

I moved on to dusting next, figuring I should tackle the mindless task while I could still see straight. The feather duster tickled my oversensitive skin as I flitted around the house, leaving goosebumps in its wake. I shivered, hyper aware of every silken brush against my feverish flesh.

As I was reaching up to dust the top of a bookshelf, the plug roared back to life, vibrations slamming into my prostate witha vengeance. A choked cry slipped past my gritted teeth as my knees nearly gave out from the sudden onslaught.

I clung to the bookshelf, white-knuckling the dark wood as the vibrations sent shockwaves of ecstasy ricocheting through my core. “Oh fuck, oh God,” I whimpered, my hips rocking back instinctively, grinding the buzzing toy deeper into my spasming hole. Tears of frustration and overwhelming pleasure pricked at the corners of my eyes as I fought against the urge to reach back and thrust the plug even harder against that magic spot inside me.

But I resisted, somehow finding the willpower to straighten up on trembling legs and keep dusting, even as the vibrations rattled me to my bones. Every movement was agony, the relentless stimulation making my vision blur and my breath come in ragged gasps. Dusty knickknacks slipped from my clumsy fingers as I stumbled through the living room, my coordination shot to hell.

Time lost all meaning, narrowing down to the maddening pressure of the plug stretching me wide and the searing pleasure sparking through my nerve endings with every subtle shift. Sweat dripped into my eyes and plastered my hair to my forehead as I fought to stay upright, to complete my tasks like a good boy. Like Shepherd's good boy.

The thought of my Dom, of earning his praise and approval, was the only thing that kept me going, even as my cock throbbed out a steady pulse of pre-cum and my balls drew up achingly tight.

But somehow, I managed. By lunchtime, I had my entire list of daily chores completed. When Shepherd came out of his office to make lunch, I threw myself at his feet, head bowed, body sweaty and trembling.

“Please, Sir,” I begged, my voice a hoarse rasp. “I did everything you asked. The house is clean, even though it wastorture with this plug buzzing away in my ass the whole time.” I gazed up at him from beneath my lashes, eyes glassy with desperation. “I've been so good for you. Please, can we take the plug out now?”

Shepherd regarded me with a heated look, taking in my wrecked state with obvious satisfaction. “You have been very good, Eli,” he acknowledged, reaching down to card his fingers through my damp hair. I leaned into his touch with a shaky sigh, craving any scrap of contact. “I'm impressed by your obedience and self-control.”

Hope flared in my chest. Did that mean...?

But Shepherd's next words dashed my fragile optimism. “However, it's only lunchtime. I don't recall saying your plug torment would be done by now, do you?”

I bit back a whimper of dismay. He was right, damn him. “No, Sir,” I admitted miserably.

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