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.
