For this session, I had him blindfolded.  He was collared, arms tied behind his back, legs bound together.  Ropes bound him at various points to a ring in the wall.  It was well done; he was entirely immobilized.  He was also in a chastity device.  I held the keys.  He had not cum in 20 days.

I had left him there for a half-hour or so.  I knew that, to him, it was an interminable duration.  I could have been gone for minutes or days for all he could tell.

He was trembling with anticipation and droplets of sweat stood out on his fat arms and back, running between the silver corkscrews of his body hair.  He was disgusting.  This was exactly what he deserved.

I gently ran my fingers down his pudgy neck, into his chest hair, and his quivering grew more intense at the sudden, directionless sensation.  My fingers found his nipple, and I pinched down.  He moaned.  I imagined his little dick throbbing inside its plastic cage and did my best not to laugh at this panting, desperate pig in front of me.

"Can I be released, sir?"

"Not yet," I replied, crushing his nipple a bit harder between my fingertips.

"But you said -"

"I said maybe.  You are an execrable toad.  I am a god.  I make these decisions."

"Yes, sir."

I released his nipple.  I stood back and surveyed him, then sighed.  "You've been through a lot today," I said.  "Maybe it is your lucky day, worm."  I withdrew the keys from my pocket, letting them clink together so he could hear.

He was sniffling gratitude as I removed his blindfold.  "Kiss my ring," I said.  He pressed his lips against the onyx.  I caressed his fat face with my hand, jingling the keys with the other.  This sound provoked a Pavlovian response.  His thighs were clenching rhythmically in anticipation of his climax.  "Since you've been so good - " I paused for dramatic effect - "I will allow you to watch me masturbate."

His face hardly fell.  He was such a pathetic slave that his own desire was almost completely subsumed by mine.  It was such a reward to see my cock that he could forget, for another day, his own pressing need to cum.

His head was turned, cheek to the floor, his back curved, ass offered up to me.  The sight filled me with disgust.  I had already had him strip himself bare and pissed on him.  The liquid was cooling now and he shivered in a puddle of it.  "Lap it up," I said.

He hesitated, so I put the heel of my Doc Martin boot on his temple.  I knew that with a simple shift of my weight, I could splinter his cheekbone.  We both knew.  He whimpered involuntarily.  I leaned just enough to torsion his neck uncomfortably before releasing him.  Immediately, he turned his head and licked my pooled piss off the floor.