Leather Skin Biker

It didn’t take me long to get to Master David’s place. He only lives about two miles from my loft. I found a parking space on the street in the mostly Mexican neighborhood. I arrived at the iron gate leading to the entrance to his home. He had instructed me how to get through the gate, but it wasn’t working for some reason. I called him on his wireless to let him know I was outside and having trouble gaining access. Master David came to the door to let me in. He had on a leather shirt, jeans, and his Wesco boots. His Wescos are tall and broken in, but well kept by his slave. His black hair shone in the mid-spring evening light. He invited me in and told me to head to the room in back. His slave was busy cleaning as we trotted through the livingroom, completely naked except for a head harness.

I felt glad to be getting this opportunity to share time and space with Master David, and especially liked the fact that his slave was about the house, completely aware of what was going on. In contrast to the reaction one might expect in such a situation, his slave is happy when Master David has a boy over for play. Master David had taught his slave that whatever makes Master David happy makes his slave happy. That is exactly as it should be. A true slave will always find pleasure in what gives his master pleasure.

Once in Master David’s playroom, he offered me a drink. I accepted his offer. As it happened, Master David had one of my favorite vodkas on hand—Grey Goose. I said I would like “goose rocks.” He made me a large drink. I saw anticipation in his penetrating brown eyes. This was the first time that Master David had actively sought to get me buzzed. It was no secret to me that he likes me buzzed, less inhibited, very comfortable. Master David and I talked for a bit, and then he kissed me. Hard. Tongue. That got me rock hard virtually instantly. He had poppers on the table, and he fed those to me. First he took a hit, and then gave me some. He watched my reaction, studying me, clearly pleased that I was getting high on them. I was not fully prepared for what would come next. After a couple more hits of poppers for him and for me, Master David went to his gear locker and pulled out a collar. I took another sip of my drink, then put it down and stepped forward. Effortlessly, he put the collar on me and buckled it.

I wrote about hierarchy back in the first month of my blog. As I stood there wearing Master David’s collar, I was acutely aware of how hierarchical the BDSM world is. There is a hierarchy that prevails among gay men in this sub-subculture. It is persistent, inescapable, and reassuring. There is a natural order to things in this world. Here stood I, a master, a slaveowner, wearing another master’s collar, if only for a couple hours. To put it coarsely, that is some heavy shit. My cock stood up, and Master David led me to a mirror. He told me to look at myself, which I did. His collar looked damn hot on me. But more importantly, it felt hot. There had been so much that led up to that evening, over the course of several months, that I will have to write more about it. In future posts I will discuss how things moved along from drinks at the jazz club in October to me wearing that collar in April.

There I was, in Master David’s house, wearing a collar he put on me, feeling this intense connection to him, buzzed on alcohol and poppers. He led me back to the playroom and I knew he was ready to get down to business. I’ve made mention of that fact that Master David is dark and sadistic. The first targets were my nipples. He tortured them, worked them very hard. The way he worked my nipples hinted at his sadisitic nature. Of course, I didn’t pull back, I didn’t try to stop him. I have administered my share of nipple torture to sub bitch boys and slaves over the years, and fully intended to take whatever Master David had in store for me. I winced, and grimaced a little, but I’m a big, strong man and proud of my tolerance for pain. I’m not a pussy. I can take it. And take it I did, as long as he wanted to give it. My nipples are not hotwired to my dick, like some guys, but it definitely got my attention and turned me on. At that point I was barechested and collared, but still in my pants and boots. Master David was still fully dressed. He smelled like leather and man when he pulled me close to him and kissed me again.

I ran my fingers through his curly black hair, felt his wiry stubble on my face, breathed in his scent, felt the hair on his chest and the heat of his body. He put me back on the futon and told me to unbuckle my belt and unzip my jeans. Of course, I was going commando that night, so no underwear to get in the way—just denim on bare skin. Master David grabbed my balls and squeezed them hard. I definitely made an audible sound, but did not move or pull away. I looked right into his eyes as he squeezed my balls, and I felt that connection. Intense, erotic connection is what I’m all about—it’s what makes me tick. It takes many different forms, and it can be accomplished in a variety of ways, but ultimately, it comes down to this. Two men sharing something that resonates with both of them very deeply, exploring that connection, and seeing where it takes them. And when inequality is added to the dynamic, that ratchets things up several notches.

Master David next squeezed my dick hard, not so much to pleasure me in any way, but instead for his own amusement. Master David is very much used to defining his slave’s pleasure as an extention his own. That is how he is hardwired, and after all the communication I had with him over those months since the jazz club and his ass on my bed, I knew that about him very well. I could see that he was enjoying hurting my dick, and so I got off on it too. Beyond, or perhaps within, the pain, there is connection, intensity, impact. Since I am a man who likes to know that I have an impact, of course, I understand all too well why another man would want that same gratification.

With my nipples already sore, my balls aching, my cock likely to be bruised, Master David’s saliva covering my chin, I laid there on the futon, while he more or less straddled me on his knees. The next thing I knew, he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock and balls. I had never seen Master David’s cock before, and it had a powerful impact on me. Suffice to say that it is a big Jew dick with a good set of balls attached. Then it was time for another hit of poppers for him and for me. Master David was stroking his cock, looking down at me, and says “Look at yourself, Master Ken.” There was a hint of arrogance in his voice, and what I perceived as some intention to demean me, but at the same time, he was very caring. He continued, “You’re under me, wearing my collar, under my control. How does that make you feel?” The truth was that it felt amazing.

It was then that Master David decided he would fuck my throat with that big Jew dick. He had me get on my knees and suck his cock. He thrust it into my throat, occasionally causing me to gag on it. But I wanted to please him, and I worked hard to do that. I could already taste traces of his precum in my mouth. He’d been leaking for well over an hour by that time. His precum tasted great, and admittedly, I wondered how his hot load would taste. The way that Master David was pushing my head down on his cock with both hands suggested to me that he was getting close. I could feel the head of his cock in the back of my throat, and could feel his balls tighten. All of a sudden he had his hands on my shoulders, pushing me hard against his legs, which began to bend at the knees just a bit as he released his huge load into my mouth and throat. I nearly choked on his semen, his hot sweet cum, and tried very hard not to lose one drop. I swallowed his seed down until most of it was on its way to my belly. What remained was the salty sweet remnants in my mouth, on my chin, and as I’d soon discover, on my chest and stomach.

After that he was so spent, and I wondered what time it was. I had completely lost track of time, and had put my phone in silent mode. It turned out that I was running slightly late for dinner. Master David removed the collar, and I cleaned up before leaving. He asked me whether I was fine to drive, and I said yes. When I arrived home my slave and boy j were ready to serve up dinner. I was hungry, and happy to come home to a hot meal prepared by the boys.

Within 24 hours my nipples turned crusty and hypersensitive, and I did develop a small bruise on my penis. My nipples would remain sore for several days. That was a take home gift to me from Master David.

This entry was posted on Thursday, June 19th, 2008 at 11:44 am and is filed under Bondage, Bruising, CBT, Cum, Dominance, Leather, Pain, Psychological Control, Sir/boy, Submission, Swallowing, TT.