By lthr_jock
Davis submissively allowed himself to be led across the club, the thick leather of the collar around his neck somehow as reassuring as it was arousing. As they moved through the crowd, he felt hands running over his leathers, caressing his muscles through it, and with a groan he pressed against them. He felt a hand fumble at the buckle of his Sam Brown and looked down to see who it was. As he did so, Fletcher stopped walking and jerked on his leash.
“Eyes FRONT, Sergeant.”
Davis obeyed and fixed his eyes on Fletcher’s face. Fletcher dropped the leash and stood where he could get a good view. Davis felt the Sam Brown being undone and the leather strap fed out from under his right epaulette. He could feel the straps dangling down against his leathered legs as the unseen hands unbuckled his jacket and unzipped it. Without moving his eyes, he could see glimpses and reflections in the mirrored shades Fletcher was wearing. Several men were clustered around Davis – all of them wearing some form of leather or rubber, though some were virtually naked.
As the jacket was pulled off him, he heard a murmur of appreciation as his muscled torso was revealed, sculpted in black leather by the tailored shirt. Bodies pressed up against him and he could feel that some were extremely aroused. Fletcher watched on, licking his lips. He could feel his thick tool swelling in his leathers – he had been waiting to take Davis for a very long time.
The hands undid the red leather tie and removed it, then undid the press studs down the front of Davis’ shirt, letting it fall open to reveal his six-pack and hairy torso. Hands reached underneath to rub over his stomach and to tweak at his nipples. He heard voices dimly against the backdrop of music. “Shame about the hair.” “He’d look good in rubber.” “He’ll be shaved soon.” “Rubber comes later.” He could not identify the speakers, but they sounded close to him. His shirt was pulled off, leaving his torso naked except for his gloves. A leather bulldog harness was dropped over his shoulders and secured under his arms. From somewhere to his left was the flash of a camera.
Fletcher grinned and took a long draw on his cigar. “Lift each leg as you’re told to do so.”
Soon Davis was told to lift his left leg. He did so and someone removed his boot and the sock underneath. He then did the same for the right leg. At the same time, his gloves were removed and thick leather bands were strapped and padlocked around each wrist. The hands then undid his belt and pulled his trousers down. When instructed to do so, he stepped out of them, leaving his crotch covered only by a leather jockstrap. His current state of arousal was clear, and several people ran their hands over his furred arse.
A thick leather belt was placed around Davis’ waist and cinched tightly. He grunted as it drew his narrow waist even tighter and he heard the snap of a heavy padlock as it was locked in place. His hands were pulled into his waist and then padlocked to the side of the belt. With a flourish, his jockstrap was pulled down, letting his meaty cock spring into view. Fully aroused and leaking, it stood out in front of him, clear evidence as to his arousal. The hands placed and locked leather bands around each ankle and then locked an 18-inch spreader bar between them. Davis could now not run and when he walked, had to walk with an awkward gait.
The amount of photographs being taken had increased and several people were filming the whole thing on their phones. Fletcher stepped forward and leaned into Davis, kissing him deeply, pushing his tongue into his mouth and aggressively snogging him.
“Enjoying yourself, Sarge?”
“Yes.”
“Yes…what?”
“Yes, Sir”
Fletcher smiled and stepped back. “Hmm, still not quite right.” He looked at the sunglasses and uniform cap. “Of course.” He removed them both and handed them to one of the onlookers.
“Much better … though one minor change to make.”
He stepped in close to Davis again. He reached up, and ran his gloved hands through Davis’ high and tight haircut. Then he pulled a thick leather hood down over Davis’ head. The thick leather blocked out Davis’ vision and muffled the sounds from the club. It felt tight – then tightened even more as Davis laced it tightly into place.
“Follow me, slave”
Fletcher yanked on the chain leash, and Davis blindly staggered after him. The club patrons loved it – a hairy muscled stud, restrained, hooded and helpless to resist. Davis soon found hands all over him, tweaking his nipples, fondling his muscles, even sliding fingers inside his arse. Through all of it, his cock remained rockhard and soon a trail of precum hung suspended from the end.
After what seemed like an hour, Fletcher led Davis onto a small elevated area and pushed Davis to his knees. He then yanked on the leash so that Davis fell forward onto his front, his arse up in the air. He landed with his head between Fletcher’s boots.
“Clean my boots, slave.”
Blindly, and moving as well as he could, the hooded Sergeant started to lick across Fletcher’s boots. The police officer laughed aloud as he looked at his Sergeant, humbled and restrained, licking his boots clean and by the state of his cock clearly enjoying himself. As his tongue ran across the leather of the boots, Davis could feel his own arousal and realised what was affecting him – the leather, the restraint, the humiliation – all these things were combining to make him hornier than he had ever felt before. He licked and slurped over the boots, wondering what on earth was happening to him.
Fletcher stepped back and ordered Davis to remain where he was. He unzipped his trousers, letting his long thin cock out and moved behind Davis. The crowd cheered as he took lube and poured it over his cock and Davis’ arse. Davis felt the cold liquid slather across his arse and then something fleshy as Fletcher poised himself at the entrance to Davis’ arse, ready to fuck him. Fletcher stopped – Davis did not know why, but he could hear whispered voices. Fletcher stepped back from him and Davis heard someone else step closer. They moved closer and he heard the creak of leather and felt the heat of the man inside it. He heard the voice of the Captain.
“That’s enough for tonight, I think. Davis, you will remember nothing except a good night drinking beer and smoking cigars in good company. You will dress, go home and look after your uniform as I have instructed you. Tomorrow, you will go to this address…”
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Metal would like to thank the author, lthr_jock, for allowing this story to be posted here. If you enjoyed it be sure to leave a comment in the comments section!
Copyright © 2015 and 2017 by lthrjock.
All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.
