By ty dehner
Deep in my heart I knew it could happen, but when it did I lost my breath for a moment. Across the room he entered, in his skin kit. He always took pride in his camo pants, Fred Perry shirt with braces and his 20-hole boots. I remember the day I gave him those boots and how much he was surprised. I remember the look in his eyes and the smile on his face as he put it on. Everything had to fit just right and it did on him. It was a year ago that I presented him with those boots, and now he was wearing them without me around.
Part of me expected him to be with his new boy, but he was alone. Heads turned as he wandered the aisles of the leather gathering. I don’t know if he saw me or not. If he didn’t, I’m sure he and everyone else heard my heart beating. My buddy asked me a question and I was snapped back to the reality around me. He was purchasing a leather jacket and wanted to know how it looked on him. I smiled, letting him know that it fit very well and that it was a good price. He modeled in the mirror a bit more and I put the boots and the Man in them out of my mind.
At dinner that night, I told my bud that I had seen the Man that had me collared last year at the event. He was a good friend asking me if I was alright and how I was feeling. He knew the hurt I felt when I found out the lies and cheating. For so many months we both talked of trust and dedication, but it was a one-way street. Two days after finding out, while talking with my bud on the phone I broke down in a crying and emotional release, the likes I had never experienced. That is when you feel so alone, when your friend is on the other end of a telephone, no one to hold you any longer, only a voice saying that things will be ok.
After dinner, we headed to the main bar for the night. It was packed to the rafters with men in leather, uniforms and boots. A boy’s dream to say the least. While I was never a bar hound, I had been visiting them on occasion and found them more successful than in the past. This night was no different. A very handsome and well-built Man came up to me to let me know his boots were scuffed and dusty. I didn’t need anymore invitation. Through the leather-clad legs, I made my way down and started licking his boots. He puffed on his cigar as he lifted his boot up to make sure that my mouth and tongue were filled with his leather Wesco Engineers. Once or twice my ass was swatted by someone walking by. But this Boot Master let me know that I was doing a good job and to continue. My tongue worked the leather like it was an ice cream cone, swirling the leather, my saliva deep into the hide, down along the crevasse of the sole to the leather, then up the tall shafts that his leather pants were tucked into. On occasion, he would reach down and pat my shaved head with his Damascus gloved hand, with a “Good boy.” for reassurance.
As I completed the second boot, he reached down and quickly snapped a pair of handcuffs on my wrists behind my back. He raised me to my feet and planted a deep long kiss. His cigar filled my taste buds as his tongue ravished my mouth. His leather gloved hand pulled me away as I started to move my tongue towards his lips. He turned me around and started marching me towards the exit. In the cab, he continued to rape my mouth with his tongue, the sound of our leather intermixing with each other and against the vinyl seat. Through the drive to the hotel not a word was spoken for our lips never parted.
As I laid in bed, the pink of the sunrise was filling the curtains. I looked over at the naked Man that I was next too, his legs over mine. He would have made others jealous in his build. A sharp cut of hair on his head that was crisp and short. He had a distinctive ink on his back. He looked as if he worked out on a regular basis. I could hear my bud telling me the next time I saw him that I went home with the prize of the night. It was something my ego needed these days.
I don’t remember what happened after returning to his room, but I know we both experienced some mind-numbing play. He was totally in control the entire time. His bondage was flawless, though I didn’t see much of it. He worked his way into my head verbally, bringing me to climax once, or maybe it was twice. I know I felt his warm man juice over my chest and back a few times.
After he woke, we spent several hours just lying naked, next to each other. We talked about where we’ve been, where we’d like to go. But I knew inside that he was not going to be my life Master. We had fun last night, plain and simple. That is what happens at these events most of the time, a weekend of sex and fun, then back to the depressing world of trying to find the guy that will be a lifetime. We kissed and I returned to my room for a shower and another nap before heading out for some food.
I was just about finished with putting on my motorcycle leathers and MX boots, when there was a knock on the door. I snapped down the final latch on my boots and got up to answer it. When I opened, it was him. He was in his bleachers, boots, leather cop gloves and black bomber jacket. He pushed me into my room with a force that I didn’t expect and shut the door behind him. I stumbled towards the bed.
He was pissed as he moved towards me and started yelling. I figured this might happen if he had a chance to get me alone. He didn’t like the way that I went after him after he had cheated me out of some promises he made. He was young and thought he could get away with it. I was older and knew better. It certainly wasn’t the way I wanted the relationship to end, of course, I didn’t want him to be living with someone else and lying about it either. But that is the way things go sometimes. Sure, I was his boy, but when he admitted his dishonesty that collar came off and I became a man again. And I wasn’t going to be taken by some young punk like him.
He made a move to try to strike me, and I ducked. I had weight on my side, and I shoved him to the bed. We wrestled on the bed, his face turning red as a hanky in the back pocket of a fister. He wouldn’t shut up and he went on and on about how he was going to show me! As we wrestled I finally got him on his back, his legs were trying to kick me in my back, but he couldn’t bend them far enough. I grabbed the handcuffs that were lying on the table by the bed and after a long struggle got them on him. He was really pissed now, but I remembered something about the times we had that he seemed to forget. While holding his legs, I dug through my bag and found a roll of duct tape that I hoped someone would use on me during the weekend. Tightly I wrapped it around his ankles and over the boots and denim. Then I did the same around his knees.
He was raving about how I was going to get my ass fucked big time for doing this to him. I chuckled, him saying that to me, as he was now squirming on my bed, helpless and in bondage. I was getting tired of the random threats so I grabbed a sock that I had worn yesterday and shoved it in his mouth. I wrapped the tape around his face and neck so tight; I thought I was going to pop his head off.
I tossed the tape to the floor, turned him on his back and straddled him. I looked into those eyes of his that I had fallen in love with, “Seem to me we’ve been here before.” He was quiet now, realizing that he didn’t have much choice and that yes, he had been tied up by me before. There was one thing that no one knew about the year that I was his boy and he was my Master; that the only bondage in the relationship was when I tied him up and played with him. This Master that turned everyone’s head, that made everyone so hot and bothered was only a Master because I let everyone believe he was. I stared right at him and reminded him of how I was in control of so many of the events. And how he was such a chicken shit in the end that he couldn’t even end the relationship, he had to lie about it. He had to enter a relationship with a boy that would go beyond the trust and respect of a Master/slave relationship that was very public and help the Master hide it. A Master that let me dress him the way I felt he should be dressed, not as he saw himself. But mostly because he did know who he was. He was trying to be something he was not. I was a boy that believed more in the Master than the Master believed in himself.
Calmly I brought back many events to this helpless Master. Oh sure, I realized that I was to blame for things progressing as I did, the promises and talk week after week and the events that never did happen. How many other boys did he play with that I didn’t know about? While the entire time, I devoted myself to him for the entire year. No play with anyone that entire time. For no one could do me the way he did. The few times we had sex, I had to instigate it. And how foolish I was to not see how he took pains to keep the relationship hidden, for he was always hoping for something better to come along. And along it came in a boy that wouldn’t respect the relationship. Of course, I will never know what part this Master had in this, or what lies he was telling that boy. And in the end this Master couldn’t keep his promises of completing his commitments.
I couldn’t believe myself when I spit in his face. Through the entire time since the trust was broken, I had taken the high road. Only my close friends knew the real reason why things had ended. And when others spoke poorly of him I stopped them. After all, I did love the Man and there were wonderful, though short, times. This Master was the one that had turned ugly and didn’t respect me in the end. The one that showed him the most respect he may have ever had was the one he shits on the most.
I looked at him and told him that he really is a boy inside; he could never be a Master, for he didn’t know what it meant. I had tried to show him and build that in him, with him. But in the end, he couldn’t realize it. I slapped his face. Damn, it felt good. I slapped it again, harder. He yelled in the gag. He tried to buck me off, but I hit him again. Something was coming up inside me, something that I had never felt. I ripped off his gag and rolled him to the floor. I stuck my boot in his face and yelled at him to start licking. He refused. I kicked him with the other boot and you know slowly, he started to put his tongue out and licked it. I took my other boot and dug it into his crotch.
“You are licking your boy’s boots, Sir.” I said snidely.
I expected a ‘fuck you’ out of him, I didn’t get it. He was licking the boot well. I reached down to his crotch with my gloved hand and I closed my eyes when I felt his hard dick. This Master was enjoying his position. In reality, he wasn’t a Master.
I put my other boot in his face and he worked on that. I decided to let him realize his situation on his own in silence. I sort of wished I had some other gear with me, I would’ve been a better top. But I wasn’t a top; I never had it in me. And frankly, I was not hard in the least in doing this. But my mind was getting into this. For once again, I was showing this man who he is. I had tried to show him what a Master would be like. He obviously couldn’t handle it, because he failed at the basics.
I pulled him off the floor and put his stomach on the bed. I was not myself in these moments. I went in the bathroom, closed the door and pissed on the sock that had been in his mouth. I returned and shoved it in without compassion. This was about brutality now, something I had only dreamed of happening to me. I taped the sock back in. Then I rolled him on his back and undid his belt, pulled down the zipper. He was struggling a little bit, but not as much as a Master would when he was about to be fucked by his ex-boy.
I pulled down his pants and leather jock as much as I could. I found something sharp and cut the tape on his knees and ankles. The little bit of rope I did have went around each ankle and I was able to spread them wide and rope them over his head to the headboard. I wanted this, inside it was telling me this. But I wasn’t hard enough. I dug through my bag of goodies and found my leather hood. He knew about this hood, for together we had it custom designed for me. Months later during a trouble spot I sent it to him showing my commitment and he responded on how much he knew the hood had meant to me and that he almost cried. Yet, he had no qualms of putting the hood on the boy he was lying to me about. That special hood that was designed for me was on the cheater boy.
I laced it up and I got harder, for I could smell the leather in my nose. I stroked my dick with my leather-gloved hand, and it grew. I thought about the time that he fucked me for the first time, last year after we had shared some of the deepest moments of our lives. He had rolled me over, as I was naked and with lube inserted his dick deep into my ass. It was powerful, brutal and I was yelling into the bed. He called me every name a boy should be called as the Man I loved, as my Master fucked me and until he shot his load in me. It was a moment I had never felt and one that I have never experienced since.
In my hand, my dick had grown to full size and a sliver of liquid was now dripping from it. I knew that the cuffs must be digging into his wrists by now, but I didn’t fucking care. I wasn’t myself, as I looked in his eyes. He was fearful in some sense, angry in another.
“Your boy is going to fuck his Master.”
Through his gag came a loud yell, which I am sure was “fuck you.” But it was half hearted for inside he knew he wanted this. It was who he really was. Something took hold of me, something I never felt. I entered his ass with force; I threw my head back and took in the smell of leather around my head. I had never fucked anyone in my life and now I was fucking the Man that I had loved more than anyone else in my life. It was slow to start; I didn’t know what I was doing. But my body knew exactly what to do. My hips started thrusting and he was moaning and yelling in is pissed soaked gag. I lowered my head to look in his eyes again. His anger was turning to submission. He was learning that he was conquered. And I knew that he was only because he let himself.
As I fucked him I remembered the times lying next to him, massaging his back, the kisses that would melt my heart and the surprise of him holding my hand in the park. Where did that come from and where did it go.
I was reaching a point of climax and emotions started to take over. I could feel things moving in me that I seldom felt. My dick exploded in this man’s ass and I collapsed on his chest crying with so much anger and relief. All I could get out of my mouth was a weak, “I loved you.”
And the emotions continued. I pulled out and slowly looked up at him. That is when I saw it, a tear streaming from his eye.
Maybe, just maybe, he still had something left inside for me. Perhaps I was wrong to do what I did. I cleaned myself up as I left him lying there. I stopped myself and told me that I was not to blame what had happen here. I was used more than I could have known. I refused to not trust others because of him.
I pulled my leathers up and took off the hood. I tossed it in the bag and cleaned up a bit.
I looked at him, “You know, I think I’ve always known you better than you thought.”
He started crying into the gag, I had hit the nail on the head. I went to him and held his head to me. I kissed him on his gag and looked in his eyes. Yup it was still there, we both cared about each other. But today was not the start of things over again. No, I’m not sure if it would ever happen, but I know inside that there is that small part that would listen to him if he called and wanted to discuss it.
I kissed him again and stood. I went to the room door and opened it. I found a pen and wrote a little sign and laid it below his asshole. I went to the door and looked back at him.
“boy, this boy is going to find you some real Masters,” I said. And with that I headed down the hall.
Metal would like to thank the author, ty dehner, for this story!