"Since ya gave Mommy something," Harley moaned, "I guess baby can get something..."
His eyes widened as her hand slowly drifted to his groin. Barry decided he needed to show his appreciation. Through the gag, he sincerely pressed on with "thank you"s and "yes, Mommy, yes please"s.
Her fingers trailed through his pubic hair. They gently wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing a huge moan from his throat.
Suddenly, an alarm began beeping from the corner of the room. And Harley gasped comically. "Oh my, I guess it's time for your evening walk."
He groaned in disbelief when her hand moved away. He was actually pretty upset, mildly betrayed, that she'd do this to him. It was almost as if she did it on purpose and was a master at time management. His eyes followed as she worked his tingly feet free from the leather. Not being able to feel his sleeping feet was making the throbbing of his cock even more apparent. It raged at full mast, begging silently yet persistently.
He moaned.
Harley started undoing his gag. Cooing mockingly in a baby voice. "Mommy's got something even better than that silly gag."
Now that his mouth was free, he had a dying urge to beg her to grab his cock again. He'd force himself to resist, because no amount of begging would change anything, and it'd only give her the satisfaction of knowing how weak he was.
Barry's gut went weak when something hard pressed his jaw. His chin was forced up, his teeth ground shut as tight they'd go. Instantly the bottom of his face started to sweat and the skin of his cheeks and jaw was pulled tight. A wire strap coated in leather was braced around his neck, and another snapped above his ears. Below one ear, metal pressed against his bone until a huge lock clicked shut.
The fear and curiosity were too strong for him to realize how suffocated he was. His mouth and entire jaw were locked in, caged, restrained, sealed. There was only enough space for his lips to slightly protrude from his face, but not completely. The odor of rubber and leather was now hiair supply - and, really, there wasn't enough room to fully inhale it. If he breathed in fear, it'd come out as panting or huffing.
There was a camera in her hands. The flash shot out, right before a Polaroid did. There his nude, cold, whore body was. Shaking in disgust. His breathless, unsettled face hidden behind a huge muzzle. The muzzle had old cum oozing out of it, easily precum collected from him, yet also easily someone else's.
"Baby's first muzz!" She hugged the Polaroid with a sigh. "And he's such an adorable puddin'cake in it."
A tear dribbled from him. It was salty on his skin, slowly seeping into his muzzle.
Harley cheered, "C'mere, puddin'!" Her arms scooped him and pulled him.
His face met the floor. His sore shoulder and face stayed down in defeat, while he questioned whether or not to get onto his hands and knees. He found her choosing for him, and she tugged him up by his leash.
It was obvious that she was going to lead. The leash was wrapped around her hand, drawn tightly enough that he couldn't even move his head without breaking the two-foot limit.
Barry gulped. The room was big, though not big enough to drag a man around like a puppy or horse. He was surprised that his initial thought hadn't been about where this "walk" would take place. Now he needed to know.
First destination would be towards the middle of the room. She led him over to the whip, so her empty hand could pick it up.
His eyes widened. She wasn't afraid to use it, and she actually enjoyed it. The only thing he could do was keep her from needing to crack him with it. Without a thought, his hands and knees hurried towards the door, beyond obedience.
She tightened her grip on the leash, slowly gagging him and pulling him. His knees gave out, his hands skidding on the floor until he found himself back at her side. Her finger scolded him sharply. He fell back into a frog position with fearful obedience. His head bowed, tired from the collar and overwhelmed with the intensity of her finger.
"Now what do ya think you're doing?" She gave him a tighter tug. "You're spose to stay next to Mommy!"
He flinched. A groan trailed from him, and sounded like a whine as it resonated in the muzzle.
Harley's scolding finger jabbed his head. "No, don't give Mommy none of that whining shit."
His sigh resembled another whine, which warranted a smack. His back arched, making his collar and leash buckle jingle.
"Hey, I said no whinin'!"
As a silent apology, he got up onto his hands again. Head still pouting in fear, but back and butt properly elevated. He stood quietly right next to her feet in compliance. Waiting.
The whip was brushed along his ears when her hand scruffed his hair. She patted aggressively, pushing his head down even further to remind him how small he was. "Good boy!"