Masonic Men - Disciplinary Activity - Apprentice Shepard
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I’ve always attempted so stiff to behave myself. My mother always said I was a people-pleaser, and I guess she’s not wrong. I try to view smart. I try to be helpful. I try to listen and to learn. The distress is I just can’t seem to get things right. periodically I perceive that the firmer I try, the more likely I am to end up in trouble. To make matters worse, most of the time I just don’t know what I’ve done wrong, and it’s unlikely to learn from your mistakes if you don’t know what those mistakes are. I was informed yesterday evening that disciplinary action was required as a result of my latest behavior. No more information was given. I was simply told to report to sir Stone at 9pm. Of course, I spent the entire night and all of the day today worrying about what I’d done, trying to replay every darned dialogue I’d ever had with sir Stone in an try to body out why I’d been summoned. By the time I reached the chamber, I was a mess. sir Stone, unsurprisingly, said nothing. He just sat on a crimson stool in the darkened apartment and gesticulated me over to him, deep disappointment etched all over his fantastic face. He instantaneously told me to liquidate my trousers and I did so, obediently, trying to manage my nerves because my hands just wouldn’t stop shaking. I stood for a moment or two, rigid with fear, as the sir looked up at me, assessing my punishment. Then he told me to lie via his lap. For a split 2nd I couldn’t make myself move. I instantly realized that he was going to spank me—just like they did in the olden days. The devised his giant hands pelting down on my body was terrifying beyond words. I took a deep breath and tentatively moved in the direction of his lap, somewhat clumsily lounging face down on top of it. I was instantly devoured by wafts of a beautiful smell which was coming from underneath his clothes. I was so profoundly sorry that it was sir Stone whom I’d let down. I have so much respect for him. It sounds nasty because the stud was about to discipline me, but there was something comforting about the prospect. He’s so tall and significant and I felt so smallish and insignificant, I just wished to hold him. He ran his big mitt over my bootie cheeks. It felt as tho' he were sizing me up, trying to work out where to land his blows. My body began to stressful up as I began to imagine just how agonizing it was going to be. He was dressed in large rings on his fingers. Would they cut into me? Make me ? I felt his weenie stiffening in his trousers and beginning to shove into my belly. It was clear that he was revved on by the devised penalizing me and I was hesitant about how to process that information. He then spent what seemed like an age running his mitt over my butt and down onto my thighs. His movements felt inquisitive, like he was somehow fascinated by the form of my body. Terrified as I was, I can’t refuse that the practice was also a lil arousing, and that pleasure brought with it a deep sense of shame. I heard myself letting out a series of groans, wishing all of this could be happening in different circumstances; but, at the same time aware that it was the nature of this particular circumstance which was oddly fuelling my sexual excitement. I’ve seldom felt so conflicted. Every time I attempted to view up, he shoveled me back down. I longed to unbuckle my tie. I felt like I was about to pass out. There was a pause. And then, thwack, his mitt made contact with my ass. It wasn’t against nude flesh. Thank God I was still in my garments. But it sent a shockwave through my body. I don’t think it hurt. To be honest, too much adrenaline was surging through me to be able to tell. It definitely tingled afterwards. I tensed up waiting for another hit, but instead, he shoveled his mitt underneath my outfits and soothingly ran it over my naked bootie cheeks. The pleasure was wonderful. It instantly made me perceive safe, despite what had just happened. I rigidly confined onto sir Stone’s leg, realizing that I could neither predict what was going to happen next, nor anticipate how I would respond to it. He shoveled a finger stiff into my hole. It made me yelp; more, I suspect, out of shock, than because it hurt. At the same time, I felt his weenie convulsing against my belly again. It was large—very large—and I all of a sudden found myself obsessing over the devised it coming in me. If he wished me, he could have me. I would go after a giant of a stud like sir Stone to the end of the world if he asked me to. He spanked me again. Then again, firmer this time. My body began to whirr with anticipation. He taught me to stand and to liquidate my t-shirt and tie. I leaped to my feet, instantly complying his orders, aware, for the first-ever time, that I was rock stiff and tenting like nasty in my semi-see-through garments. I instantly became devoured with disgrace again. Surely I wasn’t meant to be masturbation on this punishment? He would be terrified to think that it had that effect on me, right? I stood in my garmets as he glanced down at my dick. I was about to apologize, when he reached out and prodded it with his finger, stating what seemed so crappily obvious, that I was getting aroused. I told him that I was sorry. He nodded, too deep in thought to reply. Then he taught me to get back down over his lap and I did as asked. I felt him picking something up from the floor. I didn’t dare to view around to see what it was, but it felt cold as he ran it over my butt. Then he amazed me with it. It must have been made from wood. It was stiff and it hurt, but in a good way. Then he shoveled my outfits down and my blood began to run cold. The devised whatever he was holding striking naked skin was one I wasn’t at all sure about. I felt his weenie tenting against my belly and then the weight of the object ramming against my butt cheek. It stung. It dazed me. But as shortly as the initial surprise had dissipated, I was well-prepped for it to happen again. I did not have to wait long. He hammer me firmer this time, and as he amazed me for a 3rd time, I realized my weenie had began to sploog pre-ejaculate onto his suit pants. He ordered me to stand once again and to liquidate all of my clothes, before commanding me to lie back down on his lap. He confined my neck with one of his hands and used the other to grasp me by my balls. He squashed and tugged me until I was gasping uncontrollably, my entire body writhing in heavy grimaces of both anguish and ecstasy, my weenie still convulsing jets of pre-ejaculate into his thigh. He continued to spank me with increasing intensity, but then switched his tactic and began to caress me with oil. It felt soothing as he ran it into the areas which were somewhat sore from the smacking, but then he began to shove his fingers into my crevice again. sir Stone then told me to sit on his lap facing him, my naked gams wrapped around his body. Then he tilted me backwards, so my head was on the floor. He cautiously liquidated his ring before covering his mitt in oil which he dribbled all over my rock stiff penis, absentmindedly playing with it before prodding his fat finger deep into my hole. Then he highly cautiously liquidated a clear toy from a dark-hued velvet bag. I instantly knew he was going to shove it into me and he did so casually and sans warning. It was thrilling. Intense. Beautiful. I submitted, fully to him. He could do whatever he wished to me. He masturbated me off with one mitt as he continued to thrust the object in and out of my convulsing crevice with increasing speed. I looked up at him, wise as a button in his suit and tie, barely cracking into a sweat as I writhed and snaked about underneath him. He told me that he wished me to jizz for him. I gripped my oil-covered weenie and began to tug at it, desperate to extend the feelings of deep gratification for as lengthy as I could before reaching orgasm. Then, just like that, I exploded. I felt a rush of absolute blessing surging through my body as the nut-juice shot out of me, all over my chest, my gams quaking uncontrollably. I lay on the floor, trying to comprehend what had just happened, trying to understand if I’d been penalized or rewarded, trying to fathom why I was now experiencing so strongly united to sir Stone and so, so desperate to be with him again.
I’ve always attempted so stiff to behave myself. My mother always said I was a people-pleaser, and I guess she’s not wrong. I try to view smart. I try to be helpful. I try to listen and to learn. The distress is I just can’t seem to get things right. periodically I perceive that the firmer I try, the more likely I am to end up in trouble. To make matters worse, most of the time I just don’t know what I’ve done wrong, and it’s unlikely to learn from your mistakes if you don’t know what those mistakes are. I was informed yesterday evening that disciplinary action was required as a result of my latest behavior. No more information was given. I was simply told to report to sir Stone at 9pm. Of course, I spent the entire night and all of the day today worrying about what I’d done, trying to replay every darned dialogue I’d ever had with sir Stone in an try to body out why I’d been summoned. By the time I reached the chamber, I was a mess. sir Stone, unsurprisingly, said nothing. He just sat on a crimson stool in the darkened apartment and gesticulated me over to him, deep disappointment etched all over his fantastic face. He instantaneously told me to liquidate my trousers and I did so, obediently, trying to manage my nerves because my hands just wouldn’t stop shaking. I stood for a moment or two, rigid with fear, as the sir looked up at me, assessing my punishment. Then he told me to lie via his lap. For a split 2nd I couldn’t make myself move. I instantly realized that he was going to spank me—just like they did in the olden days. The devised his giant hands pelting down on my body was terrifying beyond words. I took a deep breath and tentatively moved in the direction of his lap, somewhat clumsily lounging face down on top of it. I was instantly devoured by wafts of a beautiful smell which was coming from underneath his clothes. I was so profoundly sorry that it was sir Stone whom I’d let down. I have so much respect for him. It sounds nasty because the stud was about to discipline me, but there was something comforting about the prospect. He’s so tall and significant and I felt so smallish and insignificant, I just wished to hold him. He ran his big mitt over my bootie cheeks. It felt as tho' he were sizing me up, trying to work out where to land his blows. My body began to stressful up as I began to imagine just how agonizing it was going to be. He was dressed in large rings on his fingers. Would they cut into me? Make me ? I felt his weenie stiffening in his trousers and beginning to shove into my belly. It was clear that he was revved on by the devised penalizing me and I was hesitant about how to process that information. He then spent what seemed like an age running his mitt over my butt and down onto my thighs. His movements felt inquisitive, like he was somehow fascinated by the form of my body. Terrified as I was, I can’t refuse that the practice was also a lil arousing, and that pleasure brought with it a deep sense of shame. I heard myself letting out a series of groans, wishing all of this could be happening in different circumstances; but, at the same time aware that it was the nature of this particular circumstance which was oddly fuelling my sexual excitement. I’ve seldom felt so conflicted. Every time I attempted to view up, he shoveled me back down. I longed to unbuckle my tie. I felt like I was about to pass out. There was a pause. And then, thwack, his mitt made contact with my ass. It wasn’t against nude flesh. Thank God I was still in my garments. But it sent a shockwave through my body. I don’t think it hurt. To be honest, too much adrenaline was surging through me to be able to tell. It definitely tingled afterwards. I tensed up waiting for another hit, but instead, he shoveled his mitt underneath my outfits and soothingly ran it over my naked bootie cheeks. The pleasure was wonderful. It instantly made me perceive safe, despite what had just happened. I rigidly confined onto sir Stone’s leg, realizing that I could neither predict what was going to happen next, nor anticipate how I would respond to it. He shoveled a finger stiff into my hole. It made me yelp; more, I suspect, out of shock, than because it hurt. At the same time, I felt his weenie convulsing against my belly again. It was large—very large—and I all of a sudden found myself obsessing over the devised it coming in me. If he wished me, he could have me. I would go after a giant of a stud like sir Stone to the end of the world if he asked me to. He spanked me again. Then again, firmer this time. My body began to whirr with anticipation. He taught me to stand and to liquidate my t-shirt and tie. I leaped to my feet, instantly complying his orders, aware, for the first-ever time, that I was rock stiff and tenting like nasty in my semi-see-through garments. I instantly became devoured with disgrace again. Surely I wasn’t meant to be masturbation on this punishment? He would be terrified to think that it had that effect on me, right? I stood in my garmets as he glanced down at my dick. I was about to apologize, when he reached out and prodded it with his finger, stating what seemed so crappily obvious, that I was getting aroused. I told him that I was sorry. He nodded, too deep in thought to reply. Then he taught me to get back down over his lap and I did as asked. I felt him picking something up from the floor. I didn’t dare to view around to see what it was, but it felt cold as he ran it over my butt. Then he amazed me with it. It must have been made from wood. It was stiff and it hurt, but in a good way. Then he shoveled my outfits down and my blood began to run cold. The devised whatever he was holding striking naked skin was one I wasn’t at all sure about. I felt his weenie tenting against my belly and then the weight of the object ramming against my butt cheek. It stung. It dazed me. But as shortly as the initial surprise had dissipated, I was well-prepped for it to happen again. I did not have to wait long. He hammer me firmer this time, and as he amazed me for a 3rd time, I realized my weenie had began to sploog pre-ejaculate onto his suit pants. He ordered me to stand once again and to liquidate all of my clothes, before commanding me to lie back down on his lap. He confined my neck with one of his hands and used the other to grasp me by my balls. He squashed and tugged me until I was gasping uncontrollably, my entire body writhing in heavy grimaces of both anguish and ecstasy, my weenie still convulsing jets of pre-ejaculate into his thigh. He continued to spank me with increasing intensity, but then switched his tactic and began to caress me with oil. It felt soothing as he ran it into the areas which were somewhat sore from the smacking, but then he began to shove his fingers into my crevice again. sir Stone then told me to sit on his lap facing him, my naked gams wrapped around his body. Then he tilted me backwards, so my head was on the floor. He cautiously liquidated his ring before covering his mitt in oil which he dribbled all over my rock stiff penis, absentmindedly playing with it before prodding his fat finger deep into my hole. Then he highly cautiously liquidated a clear toy from a dark-hued velvet bag. I instantly knew he was going to shove it into me and he did so casually and sans warning. It was thrilling. Intense. Beautiful. I submitted, fully to him. He could do whatever he wished to me. He masturbated me off with one mitt as he continued to thrust the object in and out of my convulsing crevice with increasing speed. I looked up at him, wise as a button in his suit and tie, barely cracking into a sweat as I writhed and snaked about underneath him. He told me that he wished me to jizz for him. I gripped my oil-covered weenie and began to tug at it, desperate to extend the feelings of deep gratification for as lengthy as I could before reaching orgasm. Then, just like that, I exploded. I felt a rush of absolute blessing surging through my body as the nut-juice shot out of me, all over my chest, my gams quaking uncontrollably. I lay on the floor, trying to comprehend what had just happened, trying to understand if I’d been penalized or rewarded, trying to fathom why I was now experiencing so strongly united to sir Stone and so, so desperate to be with him again.
Added: 2026-01-08 • Views: 4 • Duration: 28:26
Categories: Bareback, BDSM, Black, Cumshot, Daddies, Fat, Hardcore, Masturbation, Old Man, Rough, Safe Sex, Small Cocks, Solo, Toys • Studio: Masonic Boys • Models: Serg Shepard, Dillon Stone
