A short break

"Stop!" the man orders. Tracey and I come to a halt. I slump over, using the bar to support me, my bedraggled hair drooping around my face. Every muscle in my arms, back, calves, and thighs screams at me in protest.

With my head lowered, I'm completely taken by surprise when the freezing water hits me. The man has picked up a hose connected to a spigot in the wall, and he's hosing both of us down, removing the sweat from our bodies. I open my mouth to drink as much as I can. After the initial shock, the coolness of the water is utterly refreshing against my overheated body.

The man approaches me. "Lift your leg," he says. I do so, and he directs the spray against my underside, driblets of water shooting up my rectum and pussy. Once he's satisfied with my cleanliness, he moves on to do the same to Tracey, then takes the hose back to its corner.

When he returns, the loincloth has vanished. His cock points out directly from his crotch, fully extended, dark and angry. He slaps it on top of the bar between my two shackled hands. "Suck."

I can only reach him with my mouth by kneeling, so I do so, soiling my knees and calves again. "No teeth," he warns me as I tentatively lick the tip of his glans. "And you better swallow everything." I nod and engulf him between my lips.

He tastes...not great. He really could have used the hose himself. His cock has been trapped within the loincloth for minutes--maybe even hours--all that time marinating in his ball sweat. This--in concert with the precum leaking from his urethra--adds up to quite the pungent flavor. Nevertheless, I persist--licking and sucking and swallowing--and eventually the salty, meaty taste dissipates.

He doesn't try to face fuck me. His hands rest lightly on my shoulders, allowing me to suck him at my own pace. If I had use of my own hands, I could jerk him along his shaft, but alas I am limited to what I can accomplish with my mouth. My tongue strokes back and forth, up and down, as my lips form a tight seal. I press myself against him, feeling his weighty glans impinge upon the entrance to my throat. I'm reluctant to take him all the way, not unless he forces the issue, so I push no further.

Several minutes pass, the only sounds in the room coming from my slurping. Then the cock throbs a final time, and cum begins painting the roof of my mouth and the front of my throat. It's a substantial load, but not an insurmountable one. I swallow as much as I can, and--once he pulls his expended cock from my mouth--I keep swallowing until no trace remains. I open my mouth to him to demonstrate my compliance, and he pats me affectionately on the head.

"Good girl," he coos. "Good slave. Now back to it." Rising to my feet, I resume my circuit around the pole.

I can see Tracey's face out of the corner of my eye. She's looking at me resentfully. Does she really wish she'd been forced to blow the man instead? "Bitch, I would've been more than happy to trade places with you," ...is what I'd say if I was an idiot in search of another whack to my ass from the leather strap. I'm not an idiot, so I say nothing.