Merry Christmas, boy

By ty dehner

Night has come, but the living room in this Palm Springs home is filled with glowing multicolored lights from the ten-foot Spruce tree that stands in the corner next to the Roman brick fireplace with a few glowing embers behind the glass. There is a typical desert chill outside as the temperature is plummeting to the low forties for the early morning.

The living room in this mid-century modern home is manly in its decor, with a contemporary leather sectional, a set of leather chairs with chrome and glass tables with wrought iron lamps on them, currently turned off. The room seems empty with nary a sound.  But if one paused for a moment there would be the sound of faint breathing that is clearly coming from near the fireplace and lighted tree. As a few of the tree lights start a pattern of turning off and on, the breathing increases in pace as the lights dance to a faster sequence.

In front of the few festively wrapped packages, at the base of the fresh tree is a larger human-sized gift in black. Secured in a heavy leather sleep sack is me, alone, able to see the dancing lights as their colors shine around the room. My breathing increases because as the lights dance more and more, the electro on my cock and balls increases in power. As I am trapped in the heavy leather, I can only accept the torture, grunting at times into the gag. As I struggle I take in as much air through the mask as I can through the gas mask that covers my leather hooded head. The steel plug that is deeply seated in my well-lubed ass causes me to push my crotch upwards as I feel the rising power level.

As it has done several times on this Christmas Eve, the power drops, and soon I can slow my breathing while allowing my muscles to relax. Well, as much as they can within the heavy, tight leather that I have been strapped into with metal locks on each of the buckles that make a noise when I do happen to move, reminding me of my helplessness.

I have lost track of how long I’ve been down on the floor under the Christmas tree. I know I was dragged out here from the playroom just an hour before Master started welcoming guests to his holiday party. At that point, I wasn’t in the gas mask, but the fully solitary padded isolation leather hood that only had a single grommet hole that allowed me to breathe through my nose for a plug gag had been inserted into my lips before the hood was slid on and locked.

After his guests left at the end of the party, Master removed the isolation hood and replaced it with a thick, soft leather hood with holes for my sight, breathing, and a place where the gag was reinserted. After tightening the leather that wraps around my head, he pulled down a leather layer that was secured with a lock then he followed with a gas mask hood that is also zipped closed, with a rubber collar locked around my neck that tucks nicely into the top of the sleep sack. Once Master was happy with how I was secured, he turned off the living room lights, leaving me alone on Christmas Eve. Only the multicolored holiday lights on the tree remained on to keep my company.

Now that I can see through the lenses of the gas mask, I can take in the festive décor of my Master’s home. While it was the middle of the night, he left the lights on for me to enjoy. It didn’t take me long to realize that the lights were connected to the electricity that fries my manhood and ass in a random pattern. My only warning that the process is starting again is the lights all go out for a moment, then start their dance again. Thus, I end up dancing in this leather cocoon that I sweat and struggle within.

I think about how I am spending this Christmas; it is exactly where I had often dreamed of over the years. I’m in the service of a great man who cares for me more than anyone I have ever met.  And the more we learn about each other, the stronger our commitment grows.

As I look up at the trees’ lights, through the plastic lenses covering my eyes from the gas mask, I appreciate the kinky decorations that Master has collected. There are some Tom of Finland glass ornaments, the tinsel of black and red, bows made of hanky material and a leather Muir cap on the top of the tree.

The only sound I hear is my breathing from inside the hood and gas mask. I’m certain that Master went to bed after his guests left. He entertained them with party drinks with a holiday vibe as a couple of booted mates used me as their footrest. I never saw who was here, as the isolation hood kept me in darkness. It was only after the night came and Master changed the headgear that I could enjoy a taste of the holidays as Master made sure I was hydrated with some of his alcohol-infused piss.

I truly enjoyed seeing how he was dressed for his party, wearing his Langlitz leathers, the finely quilted competition breeches he had custom made with a blue stripe as he wanted to have a subtle salute to law enforcement. He has several real uniforms from departments that he likes the look of. Master was in a leather shirt, tie, his jacket with Sam Browne that went to his duty belt, and his breeches tucked into a pair of Wesco Boss boots with thick lug soles on them that he enjoyed stomping me at times during his party.

Master added one more piece of torture before he went to bed by adding a vibrator that he taped over where my cock and balls were placed under the leather of the sleep sack. It would come on at times, adding to the sensation of sexual pleasure. There was another layer of gear on me under the leather; Master had me get into a well-lubed rubber suit covering my entire body. This encasement in black rubber made me sweat even more when the fire was roaring in the fireplace. But Master has allowed the fire to burn itself out, but he did turn up the heat in the living room to keep me toasty warm like chestnuts.

When the magic wand comes on, it pleasures my cock sweetly, as the slick rubber allows my free cock to grow. But Master has the vibrator set just so that it only gets me so far, never allowing me to reach orgasm and fill the rubber with my seed.

I want to shoot my load from my dick so much. This proves that the man that is my Master owns me, as he controls even the rare pleasure of my sexual release. It is controlled by this gloved hand while I have been secured, and he administers painful treatment to me, his boy.

Once again, the room goes dark, notifying me that the electro sequence is about to start up. The festive, colorful lights come back on, and the patterns start slowly as they have through the night. But this time, things are different in that the vibrator always shut down when the electro started. This time it continues to arouse my hard cock as the shocks increase in their intensity. This causes me to moan into the gag that fills my mouth, struggling in the rubber and leather encasing me.

Something new is added to my torment as my ears fill with loud heavy metal music that downs out my breathing. The lights dance even faster, as the earphones that must be part of the hood that is locked on my head, my mind races as the music is speed metal. I can’t control anything that is being done to my body, pain in my cock, balls and asshole, sweating in the rubber, trapped under the leather, I can’t even scream as I am gagged. I can only imagine what this leather worm looks like under the festive colored lights that dance in the living room as my Master sleeps warmly in his king bed.

This torment doesn’t end. It continues, for minutes, then what seems like hours…I have never been this close to the edge before.  It is frustrating, painful, and wonderful all at the same time.

I am truly a boy to my Master; he controls every part of me. Tonight he is receiving the best gift I can provide him, my complete submission to his will and power. No doubt as he sleeps, he doesn’t have visions of sugarplums in his dreams; he enjoys the knowledge that I am encased in leather and rubber, sweating, struggling in the complete bondage that he has secured tightly with locks as my sexual desires are tormented with the same electricity that brings the festive colors that light the living room that my Master’s boy appreciates the attention it has been given.

Time passes, but I know not how long as there is no sun movement on the wall at night. The torture of my helpless self; ebbs and flows through the early morning. Sweat is pooling under my back as the room is very warm, and I’m locked in the rubber. Once again, the lights went out, another cadence would be starting. But this time, the lights stayed off longer than they had. The few moments turned into minutes as my body was able to rest, my breathing more relaxed as I stretched the best that I could in my confinement.

Eventually, I fall asleep, mostly because I am exhausted from all I have endured. A noise wakes me slightly, and I remember that I am locked in the sleep sack in my grogginess. Trying to keep my eyes open, I feel liquid filling the drinking tube that is part of the gas mask locked on me. I keep up with the golden nectar as the flow is quick. As I take in the last drops, I open my eyes, and in the monochrome darkness, I see a shadow of a bearded man leaning over me. It is not my Master, as this man has a white fur collar around his neck and a fur cap on his head.  He smiles at me through my grogginess as the stranger gently uses his hands to rub my cock to bring me to heightened awareness. As I lift my body to increase the friction, this stranger has a deep, hearty laugh. Then he stops, and all of it is silent. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to return to my sleep.  I think I fall quickly, then am awaken with what I swear are jingle bells and the crap of a whip. In the silence with only my breathing to keep my company, I wonder whose piss I might have taken. My mind wanders to the slight belief that it could have been Santa. I quickly dismiss the thought as I stop my breathing to listen carefully. I never heard a door open or footsteps, the quiet increased the weight on my eyes trapped behind the lenses of the gas mask. I continue to listen for the longest time and never hear a thing.  Eventually, I fell asleep.


When I wake again, the room is filled with bright light. The ornaments on the tree sparkle as the sun’s rays reflect upon them. I smile slightly, realizing that it is Christmas morning. My first thought is of my Master, and I hope he is joyful when he comes to the living room to find his boy still in the leather encasement that the Master has locked me in.

Leaning over me, I am comforted by the smile of my Master, as he is wearing his leather shirt with a red leather tie. His gloved hand comes up and light strokes the side of the gas mask as Master exclaims, “Merry Christmas, boy.”

I respond to my Master with my own holiday greeting, but the gag in my mouth makes for a mumbled response. “It’s ok boy, I know you are gagged. That thought made me sleep well last night. And finding you here this Christmas morning, there could be no other greater present for me.”

Those words just make me want to reach up and hug my Master, but that will have to wait as the leather keeps me securely trapped. Master lifts his gloved hand to show me his key chain with a smile. “So, you ready to start your Christmas morning?”

I nod enthusiastically as my Master watches my hooded head bob up and down. Master starts to unlock the many locks that keep the straps and various bondage points secured. Soon, the leather sack is unzipped, and I can feel the air from the room float in, cooling me down.

As Master takes me out of the leather sack, it is like escaping from a cocoon, as I feel the sweat swirl about under me as I remove my arms from the internal sleeves on the sleep sack. As the leather drops away, Master helps me sit up, and I take a moment for my muscles to get back into their normal condition while making sure my head doesn’t have the blood rush out too quickly. As I settle, Master smiles at me as he tenderly runs his gloved hands over my rubbered body. It is a touch that makes me feel so close to my Master as I enjoy the tenderness he can show me after intense moments. These times make me try even harder when he puts me in storage or challenges me to be better for him.

Master’s hands come up to hold my face in his grip as he looks directly into my eyes through the lenses, “I’m going to be removing the mask and gag. There is some juice and water on the table.” Master nods his head in the direction of the glass and chrome coffee table in front of the leather sectional. I turn, seeing the cold glass of water and the freshly squeezed orange juice from the tree in Master’s back yard. “After you take in your beverages, we will start our Christmas before we have a delicious breakfast.”

I nod to show that I understand Master’s instructions. Reaching to the back of my head, Master unlocks the collar, then opens the back of the gas mask and lifts it from my face. For the first time in hours, I can take in the pine-scented air that fills the living room. Then, Master removes the gag, reliving the stretching of my lips.

After removing the mask, Master leans in and kisses me deeply. I finally can return the kiss and affection as I reach up and pull his leathered body closer to me. We both melt into the tenderness of our lips kissing. But Master decides not to let it go on too long, as he looks me directly into my eyes, then stands, making his way to the leather section. As he sits, the leather upon leather creates a wonderful sound. I take this time to crawl to the table as I sit and enjoy the sweet juice. I can’t take my eyes off my Master as I drink slowly, then take in the water.

When I have finished both drinks, I crawl to Master and lower my face to his leathered crotch. Master doesn’t stop me right away, enjoying the pressure my face creates on the dick that is hard under his leathers. After a short while, Master pushes my head to the side, “Oh boy, you’ll have lots of time, later on, to thank me for how you spent your Christmas Eve.”

While I know I am bad, I persist in pleasuring my Master. Taking my teeth, I bit and chewed the leather wanting access to my Master’s tool, wanting to worship him right now. Master’s head drops back as pleasure grows in him, and he is becoming too weak to resist. At that point, I felt his gloved hands tightly grip the back of my hooded head, and he shoved my face into his crotch. “Fuck it! Boy, you better get my tool out and down your throat right now!”

Master releases my head slightly as I reach up with my hand and work the zipper down on his leathers. Trying hard not to pinch Master’s dick, I can get it from behind the leather, the scent of his manhood and leather mixing to create a scent that challenges the pine smell of the tree!

Without any hesitation, Master grips my head again and quickly guides it to his dick as it slides deep down my throat. I hear him groan a bit as he enjoys the warmth of my lips on his tool. Taking control, Master lifts and lowers my head as he slowly pistons his cock in and out of my skull. Master takes his time as he works his dick deeper and deeper into my throat as he has been training me to take him all the way as he enjoys the tightness of my throat on his cock. Master leaks a good amount of pre-cum, so he is always well lubed, naturally, when he uses his boy for his pleasure.

As we reach my deepest point yet, Master releases my head as this is a signal for me to slow down and just take my time in keeping him aroused as Master just enjoys the warmth and deepness of his boy’s skull. I feel the rubber that encases my body, the leather hood that makes me more of an object for Master as he sexually uses me for his enjoyment. As I taste my Master, I realize that my hands are touching Master’s legs, so I move my hand behind my back. This is noticed by Master as he reaches up, rubs the top of my hooded head, “Nice, boy.”

While I focus mainly on my Master’s, I briefly think about how he and I are spending our Christmas as this is truly intimate. A gift that I know I have only dreamed of, and now I am worshipping this Master that has shown me so much attention, challenging me to be the very best in his service.

My thoughts return to Master, as I once again smell his leather mixing with the tree and can tell Master’s breathing increases. As I heard the increase, I pushed my head deeper on his stone-hard cock, with Master moaning. At that point, he reaches up and holds my skull in his gloved hands, using his power to push deeply, not allowing me to move. A moment later, at his deepest point, Master pauses as he growls with his seed shooting into my throat and Master shuttering with the great arousal that he deserves. Keeping my head on his tool as it spasms a few more drops of man cream, this is the best Christmas treat a boy can have. I hesitate to release my hands from behind my back, reaching around Master to hold him tight. As I hold this man in leather, his cock sliding from my lips and nearly want to cry as this is just as perfect as it can get for me. And I hope for Master as he slides his hands from my head to my cheek as I can look up at him and see his brown eyes as he smiles with pleasure.

Turning my head and laying it upon his stomach, both of us just take in each other, the warmth of Master’s home, the softness of his leathers and his boy holding him tightly.

After a while of tenderness and true love between us, Master speaks softly, “Boy, you give the greatest gift a Master can receive.” Lifting my head, Master brings his lips to mine and we kiss deeply. As we part, we look into each other’s eyes.

“Sir, this is my best Christmas.”

Master rubs my back. “I’m glad, boy. You have worked hard and deserve these moments.”

We kiss again. As I return my head to his chest, Master speaks, “You have done so much for me for this holiday, would you like your present, boy?”

Lifting my head with an element of surprise, “Sir? You got me a present?”

“I’m allowed, boy,” notes Master.

I am humbled. “Oh of course, Sir! Sorry.” I lower my head slightly as Master smiles then lifts my face to his. He leans his head towards the tree, wanting me to get his gift to me.

While I don’t want to release my leathered Master, I do so slowly, crawling to the base of the tree. There I find several boxes with tags with “boy” on them. As I saw the word I made note that I am truly property of my Master, as I have never seen my position in writing.

While maintaining my position on all fours, I move each box, placing it next to where Master has moved to his leather chair. It is almost like his throne, as it is total black leather and he disappears into it when he wears his black leathers as he does this Christmas morning. I return to my place between Master’s booted feet, taking in the scent of his tall Wescos that I polished the day before so he would look his best for his guests last night.

As I placed my back against the chair, I rubbed the quilted leather of Master’s breeches in my hands, while Master gently stroked my hooded head. “Boy, open that large one that is wrapped in the silver foil.”

All the packages have been wrapped in black, grays and silver and the one Master points out to me is the largest. I reach over, lifting it, but it is heavier than I expect so I have to lean into it, using both my hands to bring it in front of me. I look down at the tag written in Master’s handwriting with the simple ‘boy.’ I turn my head to look into Master’s eyes and he smiles, acknowledging that I am indeed a boy. Master nods his head towards the gift, encouraging me to open it. And I do, I grab hold of the foil wrap and start tearing it apart. I figure Master would enjoy a more aggressive boy opening his gifts than one cautiously opening the wrap so as not to tear it. I heard a laugh from Master behind me as I tore the wrapping off.

As the wrap falls away, my heart stops for a moment as the outside of the box has the distinctive Dainese logo. Dainese is world-class motorcycle leather that every boy dreams of having the honor to wear for their Master. The box is heavy and I start breathing again as I dare to open it. The lid moves upwards and my nose is assaulted with the intoxicating scent of pure heavy motorcycle leather. With the lid dropping to the floor, I turn to look at Master, amazed that he would be giving me such a gift. Master just nods, confident that he is providing direction to his boy, giving him a special set of leathers.

Turning back, I lift the leathers out of the box, they are all black with some red accents. There is full body armor.

“Boy, put it on!” Master instructs me gently. “Over the rubber.”

I turn to Master, “Yes, Sir.”

Standing, Master points to the sectional to sit and pull my legs into the leather. Once my legs are deep in the leather, I stand and pull the suit up my torso and over my shoulders. It is a loose fit, but true riding leathers should have space in them as when one is on the bike they fit the body’s contours when in a riding position. I zip up the chest, wrists, and ankles. Standing I feel the full weight of the leather, the armor that is in the suit. As I adjust myself in the suit, I feel my hard cock in the rubber under the leather but I don’t dare move towards my manhood as I need to gear up for my Master.

Sitting forward in his chair, Master kicks another box towards me. Bending down I lift it, still weighted, but not as dense as the leathers. This box is in the glossy black paper that I quickly remove to find a box with the Alpinestars logo. I can’t believe that I am being blessed with such amazing gear. Opening the box I find a pair of all-black motocross style boots. Master nods that yes, I should put them on and do so quickly. Feeling the boots tighten as I buckle the latches on the sides of the boots, pressing the leather of the suit’s legs tighter upon the rubber that covers my body.

Proceeding with the next gift, also in the black wrap, I open it to find a full-face Ruroc Atlas Smokescreen helmet. The pattern on the helmet is camouflage in grays. A reflective silver shield is on the face of the helmet. Without hesitation, I slide the helmet over my hooded head and it fits perfectly.

Master looks at me and mentions that I look more like an object to him, something that he likes the idea of and we will have to explore more of. Bending down Master hands me one smaller gift wrapped in matte gray paper. Quickly tearing the paper away, I find a pair of armored riding gloves in black with accents of red. Sliding them on, there are straps around the wrist, but I notice they have small posts. Holding my hands up, I look in Master’s direction. He stands, reaches into his pocket and in a moment he has placed two black Masterlock into the posts, keeping me in the gloves and the leathers, as the gauntlets of the glove are on top of the sleeves of the Dainese suit.

Fuck, I can’t believe who I am at this moment, totally submissive as I am in the most awesome set of motorcycle gear, but still owned and controlled by my Master. Through the shield I see him look at me, his brown eyes reflect his confidence in his ownership of me. Lifting his hands he rubs my arms then pulls me closer, hugging me firmly. I wrap my arms around Master and tell him my thanks for providing me with all this.

Speaking loud enough for me to hear him from under the helmet, Master states, “There is one more piece for your gift, boy.”

Moving behind me, Master places his gloved hands on my shoulders and guides me out of the living room, into the kitchen and then through the garage door. I see Master’s red Dodge Ram and his Harley as we enter the garage. He moves are on the other side of the truck as I see a Suzuki GSX-R1000 in Metallic Matte Black.

Master leads me to the bike and motions for me to mount it. I find myself shaking a bit as I achieve something I have dreamed of my entire life. Lifting my leg, I move it over the seat and lower myself onto the bike that I know is mighty powerful. Master knows that I have never ridden but he has often spoken of how he would like to see me on my own bike and not always on the back of his Harley.

As I feel the leather on my body, the grip of the handlebars, my foot on the peg in the thick boots and watch through the helmet as Master moves to stand before me.

“Start it, boy.”

Lowering my view to the machine’s console, I spot the key in the ignition. Raising a gloved hand, I am shaking slightly as I turn the key, putting the bike into neutral with my boot and before I know it, the engine is rumbling between my leathered-covered legs. I look up at Master as I feel a pleasure growing my hard dick, trapped in the rubber and leather.

“Boy, today I give you a gift that you’ve always wanted. But it is also something I have been dreaming of for a while, as I want more control of your life. I want you as my biker boy, so you are going to stop driving a vehicle and only ever ride on a motorcycle.”

I’m not sure if Master hears me exclaim from under the helmet “Shit.”

Feeling the rumble between my legs it is becoming clear that I will soon shoot my load without any help from my gloved hands.

“I’m having you do this, because a car is too good for a boy.  It is comfortable.  On a motorcycle, you will always feel the power of your Master between your legs.  Since you will start wearing chastity more and more, and with your ass often filled, you will feel my ownership of you.  Plus you will always be in leather, and I guarantee you will have rubber on under your leathers.  As you do now.  But when we both go riding, you will always ride behind me, because that is where a boy belongs.”

Master steps to the side of the garage where there is a smaller street motorcycle that Master places his hand upon the gas tank. “This is your training bike, as that machine you sit upon now is too much for a rookie like you. I have decided that you will have your license in two months and then you’ll be on your Suzuki.”

Stepping back to me on the crotch rocket, Master instructs me to climb off as the bike continues to idle. He guides me to bend over the bike, my stomach on the seat as I feel the vibration of the engine. Master takes two sets of handcuffs placing them on my wrist and locking them to places on the bike keeping me bent over. I know where this is headed, and my pre-cum is leaking like an open tap. The vibration allows my cock to slide in the rubber-coated with the sweat from all the time I’ve been locked in it.

Rubbing my back with his gloved hands, I hear my breathing increasing in the helmet, a bit of sweat dripping from the eye holes in the hood. I feel Master gripping something at my ass, as I discover he had a special zipper installed on the suit. I feel the cool air on my rubber ass, as he unzips the suit. Slowly he works the plug out of my ass. I then feel his position behind me. I can’t hold back no longer with anticipation as the sensation of the idling motor, my being in all this heavy gear and about to take my Master’s cum. With a loud grunt I shoot my load into the rubber suit, my body quivering as Master sees his boy having the most extreme orgasm he’s ever had.

There is a chuckle from Master as he knows what has happened. “Oh boy, you are so fucked!”

As the last of my cum drips out of my dick, Master slams his hard tool deep into this boy’s ass, with a moan of pain and pleasure coming from inside the helmet.

© Copyright 2021 ty dehner All rights reserved.

Bound God gay bondage

2 thoughts on “Merry Christmas, boy”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.