Celadons Milking

"You look positively glowing this morning, Celadon," said Dr Gill with a smile. I trust you slept well?"

"Yes, Master," said Celadon, nestling his head into Dr Gill's lap. "And I had a nice bath."

"Wonderful," said Dr Gill. Lifting Celadon's chin with one hand, he bent down and enveloped his mouth in a deep kiss.

Celadon melted into the kiss. The scent of his master, the bristle of stubble against his face and push of his master's tongue sliding against his own never failed to send him into a blissful trance. The kiss was long and left him slightly breathless.

"Are you ready for your milking, my pet?" asked Dr Gill. Ever since Celadon had been placed in chastity, he had been kept on a strict schedule. His weekly milking was the only time he received sexual pleasure.

"Yes, master," said Celadon, trying not to appear overly eager.

"Marvellous," replied Dr Gill. "I've been quite looking forward to this myself." He stood. "But first, let me see your chest." He guided Celadon to his feet and began to slowly unbutton his shirt.

Midway through undoing the buttons, Dr Gill paused and clucked his tongue. "Hm. What's this?" He pulled Celadon's shirt open to reveal the delicate nipple clamps framing each tender nipple. "Was this Clover's doing?"

Celadon grinned. "Maybe."

"Maybe," chuckled Dr Gill. "Well, they look quite fetching on you." He opened one of his desk drawers and removed a small round tin.

"Arms up." Dr Gill grasped Celadon's slender wrists in one strong hand and raised them over his head. With his other hand he took the dainty gold chain connecting the nipple clamps and gave a sharp tug. Celadon yelped as the clamps flew off his nipples, but scrambled to maintain his composure in the face of the sudden searing pain.

"Good boy," said Dr Gill as he scooped a generous amount of unguent from the small tin. "These nipples are coming along beautifully."

With firm, practiced strokes, Dr Gill applied the thick, oily substance to Celadon's stiff pink nubs. Small whimpers escaped from Celadon's lips as he did his best not to squirm. Still aching from the sudden removal of the clamps, the doctor's handling of his nipples brought no small amount of pain in addition to maddening pleasure.

Dr Gill paid no mind to Celadon's whimpering as he methodically worked the substance into each nipple. Celadon did not know what was in it, but he suspected it was altering his body. He had certain preferences, the doctor had explained, and he was molding Celadon to fit. His nipples, previously small and flat, were growing into softer, puffier, and increasingly sensitive little mounds that hardened into stiff peaks when he was aroused. Lately, when his master flicked, pinched or tugged on them, it felt different. He couldn't articulate it, but the sensation was somehow fuller and richer, sending tingles through his body and filling him with desire.

Once Dr Gill was satisfied with his work, he released Celadon's wrists and began walking toward the padded spanking bench in the corner of his study. Celadon followed.

The bench consisted of a main rectangular surface with two lower surfaces on either side, allowing a person to be positioned comfortably on elbows and knees. Cuffs and belts hung from the wooden frame, and a vertical metal member at the head end allowed for a gag to be mounted. Without requiring instruction, Celadon climbed up onto the bench.

Dr Gill fastened the cuffs around Celadon's wrist and ankles. Walking to the head of the bench, he grasped Celadon's jaw with one hand and, with the other, inserted two fingers into his mouth.

Celadon obediently allowed Dr Gill to molest his mouth, opening wide to accommodate the strong fingers sliding roughly over his tongue, gagging slightly as they probed the back of his throat. It felt good to have his mouth used in this way. He looked into his master's face, eyes watering slightly, attentively awaiting his next instruction.

Next to the spanking bench was a tray resting on a small stand, which held a modest selection of instruments. From this tray Dr Gill removed a small rubber dildo and attached it to the metal mount at the head of the bench. Supporting Celadon's jaw with one hand and sliding the mount along its rail with the other, he guided the dildo into his mouth and tightened the bolts at the base of the mount, fixing it in place. He then fastened the leather strap attached to the mount around Celadon's head, securing it and preventing him from pulling back.

Next, Dr Gill began to unbutton Celadon's trousers. He slid them down over his hips and down to his knees, then unlocked his chastity belt, carefully placing it on the tray once it was removed.

Celadon knew what was coming next. Sure enough, two of Dr Gill's lubricated fingers entered his hole, stretching, thrusting, probing the walnut-sized gland hidden inside him that filled his groin with a warm spreading pleasure. Celadon sighed and sank blissfully into the padded surface of the bench. The dildo in his mouth pressed pleasantly against his tongue and throat. His master's massage of his prostate was steady and sure. He began to moan.

As the massage continued, the pleasure inside Celadon continued to grow, until he felt like he could burst. All the pent up desire of the past week welled up in him, and he began to buck and strain against his restraints.

"Steady now." Dr Gill's voice was gentle but stern, reminding Celadon of the conduct expected of him. His master was not one for excessive displays of emotion. Celadon was to maintain stoic composure wherever possible.

Celadon whined as he fought to regain control. Dr Gill began to massage his testicles, squeezing and stroking the delicate package with one hand while continuing his relentless milking with the other.

This new assault on his senses only increased Celadon's struggle to compose himself. Dr Gill's handling of his testicles felt absolutely heavenly, and he panted and moaned helplessly around his gag despite his best efforts, fully consumed by desperate desire. As the milking of his prostate continued, he felt a familiar weakness in his legs, and they began to buckle and shake uncontrollably.

Upon seeing this, Dr Gill began to gently spank Celadon's testicles, a steady tap, tap, tap that made his toes curl and his body stiffen as he let out a guttural groan. This was his weak spot. There was pain, yes, but a good pain that made him crave more, and a pleasure deep within him that grew with each strike. If this continued, it wouldn't be long now before he came. Ever since Dr Gill had discovered that Celadon could orgasm in this way, he had scarcely touched his penis, except to clean it. Celadon missed the pleasure of it, but he loved the submissive state the denial induced in him. Part of him hoped to never be touched there again, as much as the rest of him craved it.

Sure enough, Dr Gill's handling of Celadon's testicles and prostate rapidly overwhelmed him and he came with a strangled cry, hips spasming as he spurted onto the floor below. He continued to moan and twitch as Dr Gill withdrew his fingers.

"You may come in, girls," called Dr Gill, and Clover and Fern stepped into the room once more. He thanked Clover graciously as she handed him a small stack of hot damp terry washcloths on a silver tray, while Fern set to work mopping up Celadon's emissions spattered on the floor.

Dr Gill wiped his hands with a washcloth, then methodically set about the task of cleaning his boy. Celadon winced at the rough texture once again being worked over his sensitive post-orgasmic head and delicate pink hole. Once finished, he locked Celadon's belt back in place, pulled his trousers back up, and released him from his restraints.

Emerging from his post-orgasmic daze, Celadon flexed his jaw and body, slightly stiff from being restrained. Dr Gill pulled him into another kiss, softer this time. Tender. Celadon closed his eyes. He was in heaven. Gently, Dr Gill stroked his hair.

"Good boy."