Barry's eyes opened. He found himself already cowered down into the kennel. A grogginess rang through his skull and eyes, and the mittens wouldn't rub the sleep out.

His thigh was cold and sticky to the air, and then the smell hit him. The newspaper below him wss faded out and soggy with urine, as well as droplets of blood from his butt. He gagged at the strong ammonia circulating around his cage and nibbling at his sensitive skin. The heat from the blanket made it worse.

He peered out the kennel. Harley was in the opposite corner, bent over a contraption of a sort. It was hard to see from a distance with her in the way. There was a board on the ground, similar to a bench press. Poles in each corner with leather straps for wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles. Vinyl strapping for the torso and thighs, as well as a gag strap and what appeared to be nipple chains. She was working on something in the crotch area and it was yet to be seen.

Her head turned back towards him. "Oh, hi!"

He completely forgot about the piss puddle. He backed up even further into the kennel, squishing up the newspaper. The way his piss made his ass burn made him even more terrified of what was surely coming next.

The more he backed up, the closer she came to the kennel. She cooed, "C'mere, baby! Mommy's got something for her puddin'."

His butt pushed against the back bars. Barry shrunk to a frog position, crouched as far back as possible. The top crushed his pet ears down onto his face.

She tried turning her amused laughter into pity and compassion. She reached into the side of the cage to try tickling him with her finger. "C'mon, puddin'cake."

He could almost feel her cold finger scratching him. It made him tremble. He was scared to make any noise or give her any satisfaction. Even fighting her at this point would give satisfaction. How afraid he was right now was so gratifying, but what else was he supposed to do.

His shaking eyes followed her hand to the padlock. Out of her cleavage came the key. She wouldn't even tease or torment him, she'd simply do what she needed to. She cooed to him, "Mommy's gonna show sub his new toy."

He watched her open the door, shaking. She didn't just wanna; she was gonna.

"C'mere..." She reached in and was able to grab his armpits. On her knees but still standing strong, she guided him out of his urine pile.

Barry was too weak and groggy to resist, let alone terrified into submission. For everything she's dared to do within only a few hours, there was no telling how far she'd go if he were to fight her. Was there actually even anything to do, besides for intertwine his fingers in the bars and let his body weight sink in protest?

"Stinky boy!" Harley said, ever so demeaningly. "Woo-whee, you so stinky." She look a long whiff of his urine and sweat and horniness, with a sigh. It made her fuzzy from her neck to her pussy

His eyes grew wide as he felt himself come forward onto his knees. God was Harley strong. Her arms wrapped around his back from under his arms, to rip his fingers from the bars. His sticky balls smacked and dragged on the warm padding. When she heaved him out, his dry sticky cock was grinded against the pad, leaving a stinging friction burn on the corona of his glans.

She grabbed his collar immediately when he was out. Holding both his collar and leash, she got back to her feet. "Good boy!"

He was trembling out of both submission and the air temperature. Nipples stiff as seeds and cock hitting the cold floor with each pulse. His cock wanted to shrink up and hide from Harley as well as the cold, but the ring kept the warm horny blood in.

"Look, pet!" She pointed with an exaggerated excitement.. "A new toy!"

Keeping his head at knee level, he avoided acknowledging the contraption. Her toy, his torture. With her knuckles poking his neck as she gripped his collar, he knew there was no choice whether or not he wanted to acknowledge it.

She started walking to it, demanding Barry go get it. Either he would crawl to it, or she'd drag him there. His reluctant paws and knees synchronized with her feet.

"Good boy! Walking right next to Mommy... like a good boy."

Barry's asshole tightened around his butt plug. The sight of the contraption was even worse the closer they got. Seeing it up close should have killed curiosity, but it only made him even more curious and actually a little eager to knoe.

The hand that was holding his collar disappeared. It was now brushing her little whip toy along the goosebumps of his back. "Hmm... You wanna try it out?"

The whip felt even bigger than before,. She was rubbing the entire thing up his spine and down his legs. It must have been a small cat o' nine tails. Leather strips tied sharply were being rubbed on his thigh, and over the scabs of last punishment. At full scale over a larger area, one crack would be unfathomable. This was extortion, but a very good method of it.

After a pause, she tapped her foot. "So what do ya say?"

Scrunching his eyes shut, as if it was going to help, he nodded.

She didn't respond.

Barry leaned back into a frog position, sitting to show submission. Nearly crushing his ball sack without realizing. "Yes. Yes, Mommy."

Her cooing was almost as soft as a whisper. Harley's inner psychiatrist had an instinct to praise and encourage, while her true person had a need to be satisfied no matter what the cost.

He heard the cat o' nine tails drop to the floor. Her cold arms were wrapping around him to flip him over. She'd hoist him against the contraption and lay his back onto the cold leather cot. He glanced at the gun sticking from her clothes and the skin-splitting whip on the ground; he made it a point to not resist, or show any behavior that could be confused for resistance.

Harley's pussy was pounding with hot blood. She couldn't help but squeeze her tingly thighs together to crush her wet vulva. Barry was so amusing and entertaining, and at this point she learned that there was a difference between the two. He gave her smile a dead stare as she hovered over, buckling his rapidly breathing torso down. She bent his arms up to strap his forearms in. The poor boy pretended to not be gratified when her tits hit his face, and he didn't want to admit to her or himself that he needed this, though his angry cock made it way too obvious. She gave his tense belly and cock a few slaps for good measure.

"Let's get ya strapped in all comfy."

He gulped, curling his toes as his only release.

She bent his legs straight down the posts so she could buckle them in. His feet turned, trying to wrap themselves around the poles or ground somewhere. His hands had small bars to grasp. Unbeknownst to him, Harley would use his grasp strength to gauge his pleasure. Along with the leather strap gag he'd bite down on.

His bare skin pressing to the leather made him get just how sticky it was. The sweat and urine bit at his pores and hairs as it clung him to the cot. Straps so tight that they felt glued to his body and bulged the skin a little. The smell of leather and metal and rubber aroused him, as well as the anti-comfort of confinement. Barry didn't have the words to ask what was going on, while his eyes did.

Harls just barely caressed her fingertip along his hard nipple. "I wanna see what my boy's capable of. Test your temperament, tolerance, capacity, sensitivity - all the things a mommy needs to know."

It put a twinkle in his eye. Showing a combination of fear and curiosity was literally all he could do. His immobile body was laying here, simply breathing and flustering, nude and exposed to a manic woman. Maybe she'd see the twinkle as a plea for her to be gentle with whatever she was going to do.

Her hand trailed down his breastbone. Fingers stroked between his pecs, forcing a groan from him. She warmed up his chest and abs, feeling his heart slam around in agony and desperation.

She was extraordinarily gentle and slow. Her fingertips and the heels of her palms caressed the very surface of his nipples. He could just barely feel it, but that's what gave him such strong jolts down his back and cock. Maybe the tease of it was so exciting and edgy - or possibly, it was the fact that it left so much room for imagination. His nipples cramped up from the cold room and the rush of horny blood was orgasmic.

He gasped when his nipple was squeezed. She chuckled, kneading it in her finger and thumb. It was soft, almost velvety, and perky. A burnt pink like his bitten lips and circumcised cock head. She lightly pulled it, watching it stretch a centimeter out. Breaths wisped from his lips, his eyes going blank in masochistic pleasure.

She let out a moan. It was obnoxious, but very real. "Mmm... I know you love it."

He knew he did too. He simply wasn't going to accept it or admit it.

As her fingers clenched that nipple, her finger started dragging over the other one. It pressed like a button, tapping out moans from him. She very lightly ran her nail over it, before teasing with light circles and brushes.

Barry's ass and hips bucked around in the leather, to resist the immense pleasure. He was writhing on the inside, his cock twitching and trying to hold a massive sneeze. Chomping down and grinding his molars into the reinforced gag.

Her finger flicked back and forth on his nipple, beating the stiff bud around. Her other hand pinched his opposite nipple tighter, now with her middle finger and thumb, so she could tickle and beat the nub with her index finger.

His jaw dropped open. He couldn't believe this. Pre-orgasm tingling shot through his nipples, fluttered in his abdomen, made his hips buck uncontrollably like a puppet. Underneath fluttering eyelids, his eyes rolled upwards and lost their color. His palms were drained of color as they clenched the bars.

"Mmhmmm..." she breathed. She let go of his nipples. Her mouth puckered above one of them and let a glob of spit gradually trail down, until it plopped into his nipple. She watched it sit on his nipple, engrossing it in a wave of pleasure. His breath quickened in desperation, and it drove him completely insane being able to do absolutely nothing about it.

"You poor thing, you..." Harley's hand delicately stroked through his groin hair. She laughed as he bucked his hips, attempting to feel her hand on his cock. The heat from her skin radiated to his shaft and any tiny, miniscule touch to his cock would take the edge off. Harley would hush him, making him moan more, and pet lighter the more he moaned.

She truly did feel bad, aside from her sadism. She'd give him something more. Her hand caressed around his groin, before gripping his balls. Fingernails tussling through the wiry hair, fingers twiddling along the folds of the thin skin. She'd massage and stop if he started to moan. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't catching on to the pattern and he was only depriving himself.

The ring and his scarred shaft skin were growing so splittingly tight. He was throbbing so hard that it'd twitch, and just barely reach her hand. His deep pink head boiled over in tingles and precum. The pale pink skin skin on his shaft was drawn tighter than a drum, and the only reason it existed right now was to be beat. It's definitely the most stiff he's ever been; his cock swelling almost an inch longer and a centimeter wider than what he thought was full potential, even larger and angrier than when he got his first blowjob or motorboat. As much as he disliked Harley and hated being here, he actually couldn't recall the last time he's felt this orgasmic, or this horny. Especially as much as he disliked Harley, he really fucking needed to feel her. Anything, anything at all that'd let him finally come.

"Hmm..." Harley noticed his nipple was almost dry. "Look what we have here." She gave it a flick. "Gee, I bet you wish this was your cock.."

His eyes crossed. Hearing that made him want to thrash around in angst, though all he could do was squeeze the bars until his knuckles cracked.

She bobbed her head side to side. "Do doodoo doo do..." It made him grimace to see her treat this like a game, as if the term 'unethical' didn't exist. Barry to not be too angry though, because it'd only make him more horny.

Another drop of spit, on his other nipple. Her tongue began flicking the hard bud. Sloshing the spit around, slobbering all over it. Alternating between light brushes, to hard prodding, to swirling her wet tongue all over. Delicately pressing her teeth into the tip, around the sides. Locking her lips over his whole areola and slowly sucking - a few times holding onto the suck and letting him squirm around as the blood swarmed in his nipple.

Barry couldn't believe at all. "Mmm...nnn..." He couldn't believe he was muttering through the gag for her. But it had to happen. He had to beg her.

Her mouth let go of his nipple. "Hmm?"

"Mmmy... pease..."

Harley could understand him. However, she wouldn't let him have it this easy. With a hand to her ear, she asked, "Did you say something?"

"Mmmyy..."

She shrugged comically. "Eh, guess I'm hearing things." Turning to his belly, she trailed a long line of spit down towards his pubic hair. Slobber hit down his belly and v-line, accumulating in his mound of hair, mere centimeters from his shaft.

"MMMM," he cursed through the leather.

"Oh... Puddin', d'ya say something?!

The gag seemed to pull tighter and tighter. "MmmMMMYYY!"

"Sorry, what was that?"

His eyes closed. He sunk into the leather, trying to not completely lose his shit.