On the screen, a man materialized in a scene plucked, he sat blindfolded, the black silk strip tied tightly across his eyes, concealing his identity but not his vulnerability. His wrists were bound to the arms of a sturdy wooden chair with thick, black leather straps that dug into his pale flesh, leaving faint red indentations like brands of submission, his body tense and quivering under a thin sheen of anticipatory sweat that glistened like dew on his skin.
Clad only in plain white boxers that clung damply to his thighs, the fabric did little to conceal his growing arousal, the outline of his hardening cock tenting the material in a humiliating display, pulsing faintly with each shallow, ragged breath that betrayed his excitement.
