“How long has he been in there?” Gordon looked down at the leather clad figure suspended in the air in front of him. He resisted the temptation to stroke Mike’s leathered form and instead turned to the smaller man beside him and reached out with his gloved hand to cup Tom’s chin.
“Two and a half hours. He’s cum three times so far.” Tom looked up at Gordon, his chin held softly but firmly by the taller man. He sniffed deeply, enjoying the smell of the leather. “Are you really not going to fuck him? I mean, he’s gorgeous.”
Gordon smiled and released Tom’s chin. He walked around Mike before replying. “No. This isn’t about that. If I was to do that, the whole thing would fall apart. No. This is about control.” He paused and returned to Tom’s side. “And power. You understand power, don’t you Tom?”
Tom nodded and looked down at himself. His short, muscular frame was naked and locked in a set of heavy slave chains. His ankles were shackled with 6 inches of chain between them. His throat was circled by a thick band of steel, and his wrists were secured tightly in front of him. He was wearing his own shackles, the shackles he usually locked on other men and at the moment he understood the concept of control perfectly.