Leather Skin Biker

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MASTER DAVID's cum in my moustache and beard.

I had the distinct privilege of serving MASTER DAVID recently. The session was amazingly intense–the connection was deep and strong. MASTER DAVID was smokin’ hot–on fire, actually. He loved me, kept me safe and protected, and he hurt me. He is good that way–knowing exactly what I need and how much I can take. MASTER DAVID offers a rare combination of love and darkness.

HE had text-messaged me at about 5:15 to tell me that he would be over at 7p. He wanted me buzzed, herbed if I wanted. I had worked a long week, and was tired. I just needed a few minutes of sleep, so I would be ready in time for his arrival at 7p, so I took a short nap. When the iPhone alarm went off at 6:15, I wasn’t sure what day it was–that’s how deep my sleep had been in spite of the short nap time. Ironically, I felt lazy and unmotivated to move. I held the phone in my hand and hit the snooze bar a couple times before moving all 260 pounds of me to my feet.

Once I was up, I had to focus and get ready. MASTER DAVID told me he wanted me leathered, looking like a dom/top. He enjoys the contrast between the way I look and the sub I am. I get off on that too. There are plenty of contradictions in O/our relationship, with that being just one. So I poured myself some Glenfiddich to sip while I got ready. I took a couple tokes of weed. I felt good. I was starting to feel the anticipation of seeing MASTER DAVID, and serving him. W/we have been discussing my receiving more nip training and doing more boot work. So I knew those might be on the agenda for the night. And I knew that he would hurt me. And I looked forward to giving him what he enjoys, pleasing him. That’s what it is all about when I serve MASTER DAVID. All about him.

At 7p I received an SMS from MASTER DAVID. He was letting me know that he was close by, finding parking. That meant it would be just a matter of minutes. I was full of excitement and anticipation for his arrival. I had dressed in my leather jeans, leather arm band on the left, leather wrist wallet on the left, my leather shirt, and my Wesco engineers, which reach up to my knees. I was dressed, herbed, slightly buzzed, feeling great. My tiredness seemed a distant memory by that time. I was ready. Pumped. Horned. Leathered. All systems go.

I buzzed MASTER DAVID into the building, and within a few moments he was at my door. I invited him in, or more accurately, he walked into my house and made the place his, just as I am. I teased him about being late. He asked me if I wanted to pursue that further, and he encouraged me to do so and see how it goes. I love his sense of humor. So one thing led to another and before I knew it, MASTER DAVID was deep kissing me. He is a great kisser, with a very talented tongue. And I was happy to have his tongue in my mouth, to feel his heat, and anticipate what was coming later. MASTER DAVID always smells really good. Not in a cologned way, but a soapy fresh, squeaky clean sexy manly way, with his own scent strong enough that it sends arousal signals to my brain. I breathed in his scent and ran my fingers through his thick black hair. I was feeling very happy, lucky, safe, and turned on.

I felt MASTER DAVID’s cock through his pants, and it was rock hard. He told me that was for me, and it was because of me. Yeah, I turn him on, and he turns me on. There’s no equivocation about that. I squeezed that big cock of his through his pants, held onto it  and him. I am gratified when I make MASTER DAVID happy, in any and every way he likes. Eventually, W/we landed on the bed, and I laid on top of him, trying as hard as I could to get closer. If I could climb inside MASTER DAVID, I surely would. I soaked up all that heat, all that power, all the darkness, and the love. I felt good, safe, protected, loved in that moment with him. It was exactly what I needed.

MASTER DAVID is tender and loving, as well as dark and sadistic. That these different facets exist in this one incredible MAN is something that pleases and arouses me. I need that kind of connection, that kind of complexity, and darkness. I feel that. It resonates with me on a deep level. There was more kissing and he held me close for several minutes. I had onto his thick hard cock through his pants. He had not given me permission to undo his pants or unzip his zipper or anything like that, so I just enjoyed his cock through the fabric.

MASTER DAVID had brought a bag full of gear. One of the first things he wanted to do was to put a collar on me for the evening. He had brought two. One was a thick black leather collar, and the other a heavy steel chain/padlock collar. First went on the leather collar. He told me to go look in the mirror. I did so. I loved how it looked. And how it felt. It made me feel safe and loved. With collar on, locked, W/we returned to the bed and he had me lay under him. He gave me some poppers and then started punching my chest, hard. Both sides. He increased the speed of the punches, until it felt like a deep vibration pulsing through my whole body. My head was spinning a bit. He fed me more poppers, then told me to sit up, and he slapped my face twice rapidly, on the left side. All the while his cock remained rock hard for me, and because of what he was doing to me. That made me very happy.

MASTER DAVID told me to go take a drink of whatever I liked. I was still sipping the scotch, and alternating that with sips of ginger ale. I was dry, so the soda was quite welcome. And the scotch tasted that much better for coming amidst the endorphins pulsing through my system.

Next MASTER DAVID put the nipple clamps on me, to a tightness I could tolerate easily. Not too tight, not too loose. He worked my nipples hard that night. The clamps reminded me that I am his and that he is in control. With the nip clamps on, MASTER DAVID next dug his fingernails into the areas he had just pummeled with his fists on my chest. They were still tender from the punching, and the sharpness of his nails on those tender areas was intense for me. Then more kissing. Hard kissing, mixed with some biting of my tongue, lip, and taking me down. MASTER DAVID held me, never letting me fall–a metaphor for how he cares for me day to day, never letting me fall.

As I mentioned, MASTER DAVID told me some weeks ago that he wanted to put me on his boots more, give me more boot training, and I had told him I looked forward to receiving more boot training. I haven’t had nearly enough experience servicing boots, but I am good at it. So next came the boot service. I changed the music for the boot service. I put on Rammstein, which seemed appropriate. Scene set. Rammstein. Jewish MASTER. Aryan skin servicing the Jewish MASTER’s boots. How’s that for paradoxical? How’s that for a mindfuck? The skin licking, sucking, making love to the Jew’s boots, while listening to Rammstein. Sieg Heil!

I serviced MASTER DAVID’s boots for quite some time. He was rock hard, and would keep the boot not being serviced on my back, between my shoulder blades, adding pressure. Not too much pressure, just enough. W/we talked about how my skin mates should see me now, licking Jew boots. Yeah. 8814.

After thoroughly licking, sucking, worshipping MASTER DAVID’s boots, I paused to offer a suggestion. I asked MASTER DAVID if, perhaps, he thought I needed more punching. He said yes, and asked me where I needed it. I told him I needed more punches to my chest. This was a first–me asking for more punching. I think I caught MASTER DAVID off guard. I don’t think he saw this coming, but there it was. And it seemed to please him mightily, as did my getting another opportunity to make him happy. So this time, MASTER DAVID told me to stand up for the punches, instead of being under him like first time earlier in the evening. My head was already spinning from worshipping his boots, and then I felt his fists on me again. I felt that deep connection again. I thanked him for each blow to my chest with “I love YOU too, MASTER.”

What came next was something I did not ask for–paddling. MASTER DAVID has paddled me before, and I typically carry the bruises and welts for days. I took some poppers before the paddling began. I wanted to find a ball gag, because I knew I’d be yelping and screaming before the padding was over. But the ball gag was not close at hand. MASTER DAVID gave me a dirty sock from the laundry to stick in my pig mouth. That would do. I just needed something to bite down on to get through the paddling–I knew it.

MASTER DAVID started slowly and gently, and gradually ratcheted up the intensity of the paddling, so that it became very painful. I definitely used the sock. I was biting down hard, and I moaned and yelped through the sock biting. MASTER DAVID offered me more poppers as the intensity increased. He said I was doing good, and he was pleased. MASTER DAVID spoke to me while he paddled me. There had been a fuck up on my part in recent months, and MASTER DAVID took the opportunity to confirm with me that I would not defy him again, as I had a few months ago, during the paddling. Through the sock I indicated that I would not defy him or disobey him again. He made me promise, and swear to obey him and not defiantly act against his wishes again. He doesn’t ask that much of me, so the least I could do is obey the short list of commands he gives me. “Yes, yes, yes,” I said, through the sock, indicating I would obey completely. I was on the verge of tears with the intensity reaching its peak. The paddling hurt like a motherfucker and I just wanted it to stop. I reached for a pillow to hold onto. I pounded my fist into the mattress. I tried to crawl away from the paddling, reflexively, not willfully. Please make it stop, I thought to myself. I wanted to please MASTER DAVID, but it hurt so much. And as if that weren’t enough, when I grappled onto MASTER DAVID’s shoulder and arm to steady myself, he took his other hand and squeezed my prince albert piercing hard. Fuck! Ouch! Simultaneously paddling my ass hard and squeezing the head of my cock and the stainless steel jewelry together was just pushing me over the edge. I was almost crying. Then there was a pause. A moment of relief. MASTER DAVID said that my ass was going to be blistered. That didn’t surprise me in the least. It felt as though it already was blistered and hot. Next MASTER DAVID said, “Just two more–one for you, and one for ME.” The one for me was not too hard. The one for HIM was mighty hard and hurt like a sonofabitch. And then, blessed relief. Over. Done. I did good. I made it through. Fuck. So this is one way that the Jewish MASTER treats the big, tall, pierced, inked badass skinhead, eh? Precisely.

By that point, my head was really spinning, and my body reeling from the pain. MASTER DAVID encouraged me to have something to drink. I needed it. I was dry mouthed and sweating like the pig I am. Jezus fuckin christ. I was pleased to have done well, in spite of almost crawling away from MASTER DAVID during the paddling. He was happy, and hard, and I was happy too.

Since MASTER DAVID had to be up early the next day, I knew that things were going to be coming to a close eventually, perhaps earlier than they would if he did not have to be up early next day. But things were not quite over yet. MASTER DAVID wanted to switch collars. So he took off the leather one and put on the heavy steel chain collar and padlock one. I have to say, that collar really suits me. It is the one featured in the pic accompanying this post. The steel chain complemented my other hardware nicely. Flesh tunnels, septum piercing, earring, and heavy chain collar juxtaposed nicely with them. Heavy padlock, heavy chain links. Symbolic. Real. Cold. Hard. Steel. A perfect fit.

MASTER DAVID asked me if I wanted to jack. I told him that it didn’t matter if I shot my load. I told him that to my way of thinking, a boy/slave’s ejaculation doesn’t matter. What matters is MASTER’s ejaculation. So my cock was not important in this scenario. MASTER DAVID said that he was going to have me stroke him off, and to get some lube. I was embarrassed to have to say I wasn’t sure I had any in the house, or more accurately, much in the house. I was nearly out, and had only a small packet of ID. I searched some more, in the bedroom, in the bathroom vanity, and was lucky to find a small bottle of ID Millennium in the bathroom vanity. Whew! I told MASTER DAVID that next time I would have plenty of lube on hand for him.

So the moment I had waited for so patiently all evening had finally arrived. MASTER DAVID unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, and pulled out his big MASTER cock. The object that wields so much power over me, the cock I crave and long for, was in the open air, and my hand was on it. I was in my happy place. I put some lube on my hand and stroked MASTER DAVID’s big cut cock. It felt great in my hand. With the other hand I kneeded his balls a bit, and kept stroking. W/we talked a bit during this, and he asked me to stop stroking him because he was getting close, and was not ready to shoot yet. So I took my hand off his cock. Then without giving it much though, or permission, I started playing with my own cock. It felt good, and MASTER DAVID encouraged me to continue. W/we talked about things that turn me on, that turn him on, and I was nice and hard. We talked about a scenario in which I might get something I want, a pig buddy of mine might get something he wants, and MASTER DAVID would get something he wants out of the deal too. I won’t go into the specifics, but suffice to say, the idea aroused me greatly. All the while, MASTER DAVID’s big cock remained rock hard. I think he also liked the idea we had been discussing. I continued to stroke, and reflect back verbally on the idea W/we had agreed on. If me and my pig bud get what we want, MASTER DAVID gets what he wants. Done. Deal struck.

I thought about getting that thing I want, and MASTER DAVID benefitting from it as well. I love that. What we planned objectifies me, and benefits MASTER DAVID. It may or may not be in my best interest, but nothing horrible. Just something I fantasize about and crave. So the stage was set. I am allowed to get what I want if MASTER DAVID gets his. Fine. Good. I focused on this thing I want and it pushed me over the edge. My cum kind of gurgled out of my cock, onto my stomach. I hadn’t been jacking that long, but it felt great. MASTER DAVID brought me a towel, and I dried my hand. Then I went and washed my hands before stroking MASTER DAVID. I asked him if he would prefer that, and he said yes, so why not, I thought.

So without further delay, MASTER DAVID straddled me, and I stroked his throbbing hardon. It’s a big Jew dick, and I love the feel of it in my hand. I love to stroke it, and I especially love when it shoots and what it’s attached to. W/we continued to talk about things that arouse HIM and those things arouse me as well. MASTER DAVID made me take a short break, because he was close again. So MASTER DAVID liked having me edge him. And so did I. And I was craving, hungry, starving for his hot load. MASTER DAVID usually shoots big loads, and I love them in me, on me, wearing them (in fact, I’m still wearing some of it as I write this two days later). While I stroked MASTER DAVID’s cock, he worked my nipples hard. I ate up the nipple torture. And I felt MASTER DAVID’s big thick cock get even stiffer. I felt the head get harder, and I knew it would not be long until B/both of U/us would be very happy. MASTER DAVID said, “Open your fuckin mouth when I tell you to …” He intended to shoot into my mouth or as close as he could get his load to my mouth while he was writhing during his ejaculation. And then the words I waited so anxiously for hit my ears, “Open your mouth,” said MASTER DAVID. I opened wide, and suddenly gobs and gobs of his hot cum hit my face, above my left eye, into my mouth, onto my beard, onto my nose. I was covered. MASTER DAVID kept cumming and cumming and he sounded great as he shot spurt after spurt of hot jizz on his property. I was in fuckin’ heaven with that. MASTER DAVID said that my face was soaked, and thick gobs of his semen were in my beard and moustache. It was also all over my chest and stomach.

MASTER DAVID told me to go take a look in the mirror. I took one look, and immediately went for my iPhone to get some quick pics while all that cum was still on me, dripping into and off of my beard, moustache. I took a few pics, and then used my fingers to get more cum out of my beard and into my mouth. It tasted a little bitter, but delicious and I had been so hungry for so long for MASTER DAVID’s load, that I was just beside myself with pleasure and very happy. I told MASTER DAVID that I would wear his cum for as long as I could, probably two or three days. That idea pleased him very much. And so I have. I am still wearing what is left of HIS dry cum in my beard/moustache, and on my stomach and chest.

Soon after that, MASTER DAVID removed the heavy chain collar and padlock from around my neck, got his things together, and was on his way. Thank YOU, MASTER DAVID. Love, boy/slave ken.

I realized that I neglected to mention a pig who I’ve had my eye on for some time now. This pig used to live in another state, but has relocated to Chicago, quite independent of my interest in it (him). I’ve spent a lot of time getting inside his head, and I think that I have made significant progress in that respect. I’m poised to take things to the next level with this pig, and actually meet him.

I know who and what he is, and where he belongs. he needs to be kept down low, and treated for just what he is: a dirty kike pig. This pig needs lots of Aryan domination and abuse, and I’m just the sort of leather biker skin Daddy who can provide that.

I am already able to access this faggot 24/7 virtually. I need only add the physical component in order to really have him right where I want him: at MY boots, under MY rimseat, doing MY bidding. It will happen.

I have been mindful lately that I really need to get back to more regular posting to this blog. It has been too long, and I still have more to say. I enjoy messages from readers who like my blog and want me to continue it. It seems as though I often throw this excuse out, but I have been busy with a number of things that have distracted me from my writing.

Chief among the distractions have been work and consulting. If only I could paid for writing blog posts, then I might find myself wrting more and doing other things less.But so far I’m keeping my day job, and then some.

Just to catch you up, here are some highlights:

• My partner is doing okay. One of our goals is to take another trip before summer is over. This blog is not the place to air dirty laundry where that relationship is concerned.
• My out-of-state “son” is doing well. I need to continue his backstory. I’m three years behind in telling his story, with one anniversary having just passed last month, and another anniversary coming up this month with him.
• My dark, sadistic MASTER is a front and center presence in my life. HE is doing well.
• My out-of-state slave is somewhat errant. I don’t know what is going on with him. Not sure he is really a slave in spite of his desire to be one, and the years he’s known me.
• I’ve met an interesting local FF buddy, and have played with him twice. I hope to get my whole fist inside him soon. Every time I try, I get a bit deeper inside him. I’m enjoying that a lot.
• I have a new slave candidate in the LA area who has proven to be quite interesting and consistent. He would be another out-of-state distance slave. I’m getting to know him, and get inside his head. He has sort of an approach-avoidance relationship with poppers. He’s turned on by the idea of being addicted to them, but knows they could spell his destruction. And he’s willing to put the decision in my hands. I find that very hot. Bottom line is that this slave desires to be abused. Abuse turns him on. Talk about an offer I can’t refuse. BTW, he found me through my blog. Go figure. <G>
• There is an even newer slave candidate in Portland, Oregon, who I’m just beginning to know. He’s young and quite experienced for his age. The good news there is that he loves pain. He’s speaking my language.
• BTW, the cash fag paid me last week. Technically, it’s called cashrape. But that doesn’t quite do justice to the complexities involved. His little cock gets hard the harder I push him, the more unrelenting I am, the more force I use. And I get off on the power trip when he pays. He actually sent the Portland pain pig my way, but it turns out that the Portland pain pig is not into cash slavery, and even if he were, that doesn’t mean I will forget about the German cash slave. So that’s where that stands.
• And last but not least, the cigar slave of whom I’ve written here a few times. I haven’t used him this year. I’m not sure where all of that is going. I have this feeling in my gut that I may not be playing with him again. It seems as though that part of our relationship is in the past. The sad thing is that I don’t know where things stand now, and I’m not sure what the future holds for me and him. I’ll keep you posted.

I hope that given this short recap, you will see that I my plate is full. Sometimes I feel as though I don’t have time to write about it all because I’m too busy living it. But I won’t use that as an excuse.

After an absence of almost six months, my cashfag is back. He enjoys the game. It gets him off. I know it makes his little cock hard when I cashrape him. That’s just how he’s wired. This is his reality.

Do you know this cash fag? If you do, please let me know. Perhaps we could tag team him.

Visit inked-up

I’ve written only Parts 1 and 2 thus far. I need to keep going. There’s more to tell. It’s been a very busy winter–more than you’d think for the months of January and February.

So given O/our common interests, things just evolved. his need for approval played right into my hands. his darkness dovetailed nicely with my darkness. To use a term from1980s business think, there was synergy there. he was looking for no one, but he found Me. and as for Me, I didn’t seek him out. But there he was. Day in, day out, in regular, almost constant communication. It’s important to note that as things evolved between U/us, one could look at what happened in very different ways. I know both his version, and I have My own version. I have discussed it with him ad infinitum.

So in his version of things, I manipulated him—methodically, deliberately, and willfully—to suit my purpose. As he sees it, there was something I needed, and he happened to be the one who appeared at the right place at the right time. In the way that he paints the picture, I had been ramping up to this, and was waiting for someone like him. he will tell you that I was just waiting patiently for a boy who had a high need for acceptance and approval, with a submissive nature, who would be willing to do almost anything for a superior MAN. he’d have you believe that I took advantage of him. he might even go so far as to say that I tricked him into asking me to do what I did to him. he would say that I’m dark enough and smart enough to do all this to a man who is just as dark, if not darker, than Myself. FJB is no dullard. he is smart, successful, insightful, and nobody’s fool. he knows what he is, and what he is built for: service. Always the 15 year old boy serving superior men. Some things never change.

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Those of you who have been reading my blog for a while know of the boy I refer to as “faggotjewboy.” his story has not been told yet. I’ve related part of his story, but there’s so much more I can say about this manboy who is bound to me for life. There’s all the backstory—now over three years of it—a rich, and complex backstory that needs to be told.

Consistent themes in my blog, and in my life, are these concepts of hierarchy, inequality, and power imbalance. How many different forms can that take? How many ways can one man submit to another? What are the limits? How many variations can there be? What could represent the ultimate form of submission? And what would compel a man to submit so permanently and completely? These are all good questions to ponder.

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