By Matt Nemo

Aight, picture this: I’m Matt, your everyday NYC grindin’ sub dude, 28, built like a wiry punk with tats snakin’ up my arms and a collar kink that hits harder than a subway rush. Workin’ some dead-end gig in the Village, but nights? That’s when the real party’s poppin’. One Friday, I’m scrollin’ Grindr, horny as hell, when this daddy-type—call him Jax—DMs me: “You look like you need a real man to own that ass. My place. Now. Wear nothin’ but your jock.”

Heart racin’, cock twitchin’, I bolt over to his loft in Chelsea. Door swings open, and bam—Jax is this 6’4″ leather god, beard like a fuckin’ forest, harness huggin’ his ripped chest, eyes drillin’ into me like lasers. “On your knees, boy,” he growls, voice low and gravelly, makin’ my hole clench just hearin’ it. I drop, pavement burnin’ my skin from the walk, but who cares? This is sub heaven.

Continue reading Matt’s Midnight Submission Slam: The Boss’s Leather Grip →