Bound to His bench, squirming with zero chance of escape, you mewl and drool, mouth encompassed and stretched by His spherical gag, while baby oil is smeared all over your body, making you resemble a shiney, glistening new toy.
Meanwhile another new toy hums it's tormenting hymn inside your helpless pussy, setting off bomblets in your twat, shooting sharp shards of pleasure shrapnel atraight up into your brain.
His bench is at an angle, the incline lowering your head and raising your peachy buttocks upwards, but your posture is not to Master's liking. He wants you to be more attentive and more aesthetically pleasing.
He knows how to achieve that.
Gripping your hair he ties it to rope, then to the other end of the rope he ties a metal hook, it's metallic sheen glistening in the dim light.
Master takes his time, donning wine red latex gloves, then prying opening your rear end and slowly applying lube to your bumhole, as you squirm and whimper pathetically.
You know what's coming, yet you still grunt loudly into the gag and writhe in your bonds, as Master inserts the hook into your tightest little slot, making the stuffing feel slowly innevitable, yet far from easy.
The hook once stuffed inside, is wedged in deeper by tightening the rope, forcing you to arch your back and present your ass and pussy lewdly. Absolutely delightful. Your posture is now attentive and expressive, head down, with arched back into upraised buttocks.
You whimper as you comply with the hook's simple demands.
Then you hear the door open behind you, and it left open, exposing a view of your submission to any who traverse the corridor of this hotel.
Master caresses your ass, as you feel a mixture of humiliation and excitement, as your depraved imaginings are made real.
The slap upon your ass doesn't wake you, nor does the draft from the open door upon your wet pussy. You are not in a dream anymore, this is your reality.
And you fucking love it.