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Clamped

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  • It was two simple errors – a slip of the tongue and hand.

    Master firmly believed in the punishment fitting the mistake. Being a very fair-minded Man, Master had made sure that slave-89 had been properly trained before he had been allowed to service an Alpha of Master’s standing.

    Perhaps the punishment wouldn’t have been so harsh if 89 had slipped in private. But, when he fucked up during a long-weekend gathering of the local BDSM club, Master felt obligated to punish him. Really, if Master had not, He would have lost standing as an Alpha Male.

    At first, 89 didn’t know how the punishment session would progress. Was Master’s plan to leave 89 in the stress position with his dangling bits and tongue clamped long enough to reinforce discipline for the ill-behaved sub or was that hot coal fire pit a sign that something designed to be far more physical was coming?

    When Master entered the room, 89’s whole body broke out in a cold sweat. he’d already been in the stress position for several hours. 89 desperately wanted to beg for forgiveness but his clamped tongue made that impossible.

    It most likely was only for less than 20 minutes that Master stood behind 89 and watched. Knowing he shouldn’t have tried to look back, nevertheless, 89 strained his eyes to the left to see Master. Was he holding anything to further punish or was Master there to let 89 out of his bondage? Either way, 89 was ready to endure anything to get some relief from his aching muscles.

    “I’ve spoken with the Grand Master of the club and He agrees that you are an embarrassment.”

    89 felt his stomach flip over. Oddly, his dick started to stiffen at the same time. 89 was a born submissive and masochist and just the sound of Master’s voice were enough to excite him. He wondered what further administrations Master had in mind.

    “I hope you’ve enjoyed having your tongue clamped. Depending on My mood over the next few hours, it might be the last time you feel anything from your tongue.”

    89’s head swooned. he knew that a sub without a tongue wouldn’t be allowed to continue in Master’s harem. Life with Master’s other slaves as a sex servant was far preferable to life in the mines as a drone.

    “Of course as a well-trained sexual slave, you know where your hands belong while giving a Real Man a blowjob. Losing your balls would be a good way to remind you of that.”

    Master didn’t believe in chastity cages. Besides not liking the way they look on a slave, Master wanted a slave’s training to keep them from ever wanking their useless dick.

    “My experience and My conversation with the Grand Master have convinced Me to not punish you while I’m angry. I’m still both furious and embarrassed by what you did. So, I’m going to leave you until I’ve calmed down. Then I’ll decide how to make sure you never repeat what you did.”

    The door to the room closed and once again 89 was left alone to ponder what he’d done. he started dripping precum as his stiffy deflated. In the position Master had put him in, 89 could think of nothing other than the last orgy of the gathering.

    89 was very well trained and is an attractive sub, several of Master’s friends had asked Master if they could use 89. Master was very obliging to his Alpha buddies. Master would take one of their subs for the night and lend out 89. Everything went perfectly. 89 had a massive gag reflex which every Alpha that used him loved. 89’s hole was an adorable smooth pucker that every Top lusted after.

    On the last night of the gathering, 89 was tired. his two holes had been plugged by almost every Master there, and he knew he’d met expectations.

    Then it happened, while getting his pie hole filled with USDA Grade A foreskinless meat, 89 reached up and grabbed the Top’s Cock and said, “fuck, I need to breathe you know.” Instantly, 89 knew he’d embarrassed his Master. But, the Top getting his nuts drained just shrugged and said, “Air if for Alphas.” The rule in the club is that a slave’s Master is the only one to administer discipline. So, the Top just finished an otherwise excellent blowjob and walked off. Master quickly snatched up 89 and removed him from the orgy. When they got home, 89 was put onto the spanking bench and clamped.

    89 had seen other slaves punished. Some just spent time in the stress position and clamped. Others had their asses branded. The worst punishment for a slave was to be castrated and to have their tongue removed. 89 had seen slaves nutted and their tongues left in place but he’d never seen a slave have his tongue removed without being nutted.

    So, 89 knew that if Master started by cutting off his tongue and cauterizing it, his nuts would be skillfully removed and his scrotum cut off and sewn shut. A slave without balls might be allowed to continue in service to Master but a slave without a tongue was always sent to the mines.

    The misery 89 was feeling overwhelmed him. he was past the point of wondering why he’d made such an unforgivable mistake. Now, he was concentrating on his possible punishments.

    After what seemed like days, the door opened. Master wasn’t alone which sent shivers up 89’s spine. Had Master brought an expert castrator? Was the Man with Master going to pull 89’s tongue out with pliers and slice it off? Tears ran down 89’s cheeks as he braced himself for his well-deserved punishment.

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