The Debt – Part 1

By Pup Shaggy

He didn’t know what the hell he was doing here. Seriously. The night had originally been a meet up at a pub. Simple, enjoyable; and it didn’t involve stupidly loud music and obnoxious flashing lights at whatever club happened to be on their minds. A pub was something he could enjoy. But of course, plans changed and out of the blue, instead it was going to be a night at a club. Not just any club either. For some reason, they were heading to a gay club even though none of his friends were gay, just hum. It made no sense. But then from the sounds of it, they were all already drunk when he turned up.

He had a feeling his mates were hinting at something as well, but honestly he felt more like a third wheel than anything. He had been looking forward to this night back when the plan was a few drinks and chatting at a pub; A chance to chill. But now? He wasn’t sure if he was anymore. He wasn’t the club sort of guy. He didn’t dance, not because he couldn’t: anyone can dance when they’ve had enough alcohol. He just didn’t particularly find it fun. Anytime he had danced in the past it was to keep everyone else happy; friends who were throwing him annoyed looks because he wasn’t partaking in the strange ritual others called dancing… because he didn’t want to in the first place.

Everyone else seemed to be enjoying it though, and every time they came over to ask him if he was alright: sure. He lied through his teeth and said yes. But mostly he just wanted to get the hell home.

This was not his idea of a fun night. And so he sat there on his own, sipping his third or fourth cider. He’d lost count, but his head was only mildly dizzy, so not nearly enough. He had been looking forward to some drama: it was inevitably going to happen with this many people. But that had happened within the first hour, Leaving him with nothing else to look forward to… besides his next drink.

But he was still here. Trying to convince his friends – and also partly himself – that he was having a good time. He had a lot on his mind. Drinking usually helped. He enjoyed looking around the club though; looking at the other people who were there. It all seemed pretty sane. For a gay club, there didn’t seem to be much…. Well, gay stuff happening. Although saying that there was a couple outside the bathrooms sucking each other’s faces off and had been since he’d – Spencer – arrived.

Perhaps this was normal for a club though, they weren’t exactly his area of expertise. He shrugged it off. The others had repeatedly told him he might get laid, they hadn’t stopped telling him, almost like he’d forget. He entertained the thought a couple of times and was peering around the dance floor for anyone that made him twitch. And there’d been a few sure. But then it was getting up and speaking to them and quite frankly, he was having more fun imagining then experiencing rejection.

Something sure as hell caught his eye though, more rather someone. A tall, heavily built male was over by the bar, a grin on his face and stubble covering the entire bottom-half of his face. Spencer stared like a predator, and wasn’t the only one either. Only in this context, he was the prey, staring at his soon to be chaser. It was his outfit that was attracting everyone’s eyes, not just Spencer, and for good reason too. His bottom half was covered in a pair of tight black leather chaps that majestically reflected and shimmered in the discos’ lights. A small triangle of blue on his crotch where the denim jeans lay beneath.

A grey tank top that showed off his thick arms, a Purple bandana around his neck and a pair of gauntlets around each wrist. His hair was golden brown, although in this lighting it looked darker. Sure this wasn’t that odd really, but then dangling from a belt – almost tauntingly – were several leather cuffs; a set of four accompanied by a collar equally dangling there at his side. The rest of his waist was decorated by various pouches on his utility belt. Even from across the club, Spencer could see all these, dangling off a single clip on his thigh. On his other side, there looked to be the handle of a crop. The whole ensemble was…. He didn’t have the time to react to it.

His attention snapped back to a young oily and sweaty guy laughing in his ear. He looked up at him, trying not to wince at his high-pitched laugh and his drunken slur.

“I asked if you were alright!?” he said again. Spencer had to lip read because of the music. Quickly switching between the two was weird. The youth was normal in comparison compared to the beefy Leatherman at the bar. Lean, curls of dyed hair on top of his head, torn dirty jeans; it was a wonder he’d been let in. Worst of all was his stupid smile that said ‘I’m fucking full of it’. Spencer smiled back politely, trying to reject the drunk and get back to ogling the dominator.

But he wasn’t obvious enough apparently; the guy leaned over him, his grin growing bigger. “Good. Then how bout we visit the bathroom and you can worship my big tasty cock?” The sly smile on the prick’s face said it all. His breath was arid with alcohol and cigarette smoke. He should of been wearing a ‘douchebag’ t-shirt. But Spencer wasn’t particularly interested at the moment, so smiled awkwardly and tried to push him away with excuses. “Sorry man but my, err….” His mind went blank.

His eyes darting around the club to look for his friends: someone to rescue him but he couldn’t find anyone he knew. Un-thinking, he looked back to the bar; call it wishful-thinking. Whatever the reason, he looked over… And the big male was staring right at him. Actually at him. And not just a glance either. He was leaning back on the bar, his arms behind him, his chest out and a smile on his face that almost made Spencer cough. His eyes, like a glare piercing through the haze of the club, right at him. He froze staring back, blinking a few times as if it was a mirage.

He wasn’t hallucinating, as far as he knew. He had a blip where his mind froze out and repeated ‘this is a dream’. This guy was openly staring at him and…. Not just staring. He nudged his head beside him to an empty bar stool, Spencer getting it as a ‘come here’. If only he was alone…

“…My boyfriend’s here.” He quickly finished, turning back hoping he hadn’t noticed how nervous Spencer was suddenly, nor his long drawn out stare.

“Pffft, that pussy doesn’t have to know, come on. Do me a solid. Bitches like you love sucking me off.” Spencer didn’t react, although a loud ‘arsehole’ was certainly close to being said.

“I’m a pussy huh?” a low voice said, coming from behind the youth. “That’s mighty big talk coming from a pussy.” A large hand came to his shoulder, almost pulling him away from Spencer whose eyes darted up, unaware that his distant admirer had just come a lot closer…. To his rescue. “Gonna need to wash that mouth out with soap.” said the interloper. He looked like he was about to wet himself; Spencer could see him shake, or maybe that was just the pressure at which the much larger guy held him. Spencer was having a hard time not to start shaking himself. His saviour was easily another few feet up on him; a face that just screamed predator, complete with two honey yellow eyes that were like headlights in the dimly lit atmosphere, his longish crew cut hair well-kept and smart.

How the hell had this guy been allowed in let alone walk about town wearing that? He couldn’t help but gape at this figure, quickly moving his hand to obscure the increasingly bigger bulge between his legs and gulp down the rock in his throat. The smaller of the two men – whom Spencer referred to as a coyote because of his laugh – could only whimper as he stared up at this titan. The hand didn’t leave his shoulder; in fact it seemed to clench harder, almost painfully so. The coyote quickly tried to pry the hand off, but his grip was like a vice.

“Maybe I should make sure you do it right, girls like you need a firm hand.” His smile became almost threatening. “Maybe I should let my pet show you how it’s done. Let him seed that cunt between your legs.”

The coyote was off before he’d even finished his sentence, leaving him laughing at the sight of him shoot across the dance floor, his speckled tail between his legs. No-one else had taken much notice of the whole interaction, besides Spencer who had heard every single word. This guy was no Coyote… this guy was a Lion… A hungry, powerful, lion. His grin was still threatening, especially paired with his eyes; all together it was hypnotic and entrancing, while being equally terrifying.

“That scared look of yours was cute, figured you needed a hero to shove the scavenger off.” He said. His voice was clearly audible through the blaring music. Spencer just nodded, smiling.

“Yeah… thanks….” He added.

“You’re welcome,” he said, throwing himself down on the sofa right next to him. He was sitting on the edge of the chair, but rather than push Spencer away so he could sit on it fully, he seemed to pull Spencer in. His arm leaned across the back of the chair behind him…. And around Spencer which made something deep in him quiver.

“But… err, well now you owe me kid.” He whispered into Spencer’s ear who couldn’t help but shiver as his warm breath tickled his face.

“L… Like a drink?”

“Nagh, it’s got to be a little more, special…” and he smirked. Spencer stared back blankly.

“Like, a kiss.” And he held out his hand for Spencer. He looked at it, like he was being offered sweets. Needless to say, his face blushed red, he took the hand without much thought into it. What was the crime in kissing someone? His older pulled him up to his feet, swooped a heavy arm over his shoulders and directed him towards the bathrooms. Well, more ‘pushed’ than ‘directed’ really; that arm guiding him forward. The contact was weird to say the least, but…. oddly comforting and warm. He didn’t object.

It wasn’t a long journey to the bathrooms; a small hallway off from the dance floor that connected it with two discrete bathrooms hidden out to the back of the building. Spencer glancing at other people as they passed, who were staring at the two of them back.

This Lion just smiled the entire time; not even discreetly licking his lips and checking Spencer out, whose’ mind was blank and whose heart was racing in his ears. They never entered the bathroom though, stopping just next to the fire exit.

“So, puppy…” he called Spencer. “… Looks like he’s having tonnes of fun.” Spencer staring at the chin of stubble once more, now stuck between it and the wall.

“Yeah…. not really a clubber.” He said, trying every so hard not to look him in the eye.

“Then why come?”

“Friends dragged me.”

“Ahh.” He took a quick look over his shoulder back towards the club to see if they’d been followed.

“So you weren’t looking for an owner?” Spencer almost slipped onto the floor.

“The owner? Why would I?” but the guy laughed.

“Not the owner…” he leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “…an owner.”

“A… a what?” he said, but he’d heard him right the first time

The smile he got back was amorous and a little scary. Running out of things to look at, Spencer’s eyes drifted up to the amber globes beating down on him.

“You going to pretend you’re not into it pup?” he said again, leaning forward placing a hand on the wall over him, the space between them shrinking a great deal. Spencer couldn’t say anything.

“You’ve had a good long look at my collar down here,” patting it with a hand on his thigh. “You didn’t ask me what it is, so that tells me you know exactly what it is… and what it’s for… And what it means.” His grin growing wider as he spoke, showing off his sharp canine teeth. The silence on Spencer’s face being all the answer he needed.

So the stranger continued. “Doesn’t matter if you are into it, right? You still owe me a kiss anyway.” Spencer gulped. “Well?” he said, not moving any closer; waiting for Spencer to make a move.

It was easier said than done. Spencer slowly moved forward, trembling a little. He licked his lips, stretching up on tip-toes just to reach the guys face before quickly giving the male a quick kiss. Opening his eyes again to see the same ‘hot and he knew it’ smile.

“Come on pup.” And he moved closer down on him again. Spencer quickly backing up again only to hit his head against the solid wall.

“I want an actual kiss. Don’t forget what I did for you.” But he couldn’t move.

“I didn’t have to save you. Could have left you with that scrawny Pussy-boy. Cute thing like you underneath that…” he couldn’t find the word. “Don’t you think you owe me?”

“Y.. yeah.” Spencer whispered, trying to speak.

“You do want to thank me don’t you boy?”

“Yes.” He said again.

“Good, because I think you’d be lying if you said no. You haven’t stopped licking your lips, not to mention you’re little friend down here…” a hand reached down to the now hard spot of his jeans between Spencer’s legs and gripped it. His grin growing even wider and ever closer to Spencer’s mouth when he realised just how hard this kid was.

“…well he really wants to thank me, doesn’t he?” Spencer closed his eyes as the grip tightened, him groaning quietly. His entire cock and balls fit in his hand, almost perfectly.

“You wouldn’t lie to a guy like me would you pup? That wouldn’t be very good of you. Nor it wouldn’t be good for… your health,” his lips parted revealing rows of glinting teeth again. Their lips were inches apart from each other; breath colliding into each-other’s faces

“No…” Spencer whispered, now buried in the tightening hand over his balls.

“You’re missing a word their boy. I’m your superior, address me as such.” Spencer’s eyes opened one last time, swallowing down another rock.

“No……. Sir.”

“That’s better,” and with that settled; moving in full for a kiss. Spencer’s fingers tried to dig into the wall behind him as his mouth was suddenly full with someone else’s hot breath and warm tongue. His head was arched upwards, almost at 45 degrees just to meet his. He felt his legs give way beneath him, yet somehow he remained standing. Neither of the man’s hands didn’t move, Pulsing with his grip; slowly getting tighter and then releasing in a rhythm that followed the passion of their kiss. Then his other hand came around his neck just as tight, supporting the behemoth uptight while simultaneously trapping Spencer where he stood. It held his head upright, which he was almost thankful for because his muscles were going limp. His fingers arched around his throat, ready to strangle.

Both were caught up in the kiss, his mind a flutter. He forgot how good this felt; kissing. It had been ages. He wanted to caress his body; feel the muscle concealed by only a slither of fabric, he wanted to touch the leather of his chaps, but his fingers were stuck. The hand gripping his neck grew fiercer as the kiss went on – as did the hand on his crotch – eventually strangling him lightly. But he didn’t object, it only made him harder. The kiss was euphoric, the dominant biting his lip from time to time playfully. That glorious kiss seemed to last for ages until his mind snapped back to reality…. And he felt his hands were above his head. He pulled back from the kiss looking upwards; his saviour holding them there easily with the hand that had been grinding his cock while the other continued to press around his neck.

“Puppy nervous?” he whispered right into his ear, before he started licking his cheek and biting his neck gently.

“fff…fuck….” Spencer exclaimed, barely able to keep it together, inciting a laugh. The neck-hand released, coming up around his mouth clamping it shut, silencing his aroused groaning. He whimpered a little, as his grip grew harder and harder, his teeth beginning to grind into his gums. But he felt like he was flying. He couldn’t do anything but give in. finally though, having enough of his neck, he pulled away but both hands remaining where they were.

They must have looked like one hell of a sight: a tall largely built, rugged male pinning a younger, smaller guy to the wall with a single hand and silencing him with the other. The age difference between them must have only been about ten years, but the size difference between the two of them only made the contrast more striking. They stared deep into each other’s eyes for a while, before the silence broke.

“Now that was a kiss. But it seems you owe me another favour now don’t you boy? I had to help you again. Plus, you’ve gotten all excited for me.” His whole body came forward, now squishing his body into Spencer’s with the wall behind them, crotch against chest.

“You’ve got that lovely present between your legs for me, haven’t you? A puppy shouldn’t get hard without permission. You broke a rule, so you owe me again, don’t you?“ Using his hand around his nose, he made Spencer nod whether he wanted to or not.

“That’s right you do. But, now you owe me something big. Only the first favour is something simple.” Spencer was already a panting mess, hanging off the guys’ fingers like a puppet, literally. In a few minutes, he’d been reduced to the horny submissive creature that lied deep within him.

“You need to do something for me, don’t you boy?” Spencer nodded on his own this time. As much as he could with the hands firm grip anyway.

“Good. Well then, you’re going to do exactly what I say and follow my commands to the letter, right?” Again he nodded without so much as thinking it through. Anything. Anything.

“You’re going to go back over to your sad little chair, get your coat and tell you’re mates you’re heading home. I expect to see you outside in the street in one minute…” he paused. “…no scratch that, you’re going to tell them you’re going home with a predator. Exactly that, a predator. If I don’t see you outside by then, I’ll be coming back in, I’ll place my collar around this neck and make you leave with me. If I have to do that, you’re going to be off to a really bad start Pup. Understand me?”

“Yes…” Spencer said when his hand left, still panting, hanging on every word like his life depended on it. The Lion just stood there though, not letting him go. He stared back, waiting, un-sure if he’d missed something. And then it clicked in his mind.

“Yes Sir.” He corrected.

He didn’t say anything else as he released his hands, still just smiling. He gave him another quick smooch, before ushering his head to his side back towards the club. Spencer bounded off back to his chair, not wasting a second.

All he could think was the word ‘fuck’; his mind still lagging behind. He grabbed his coat from the store clerk and found his nearest mate: a small slim guy who was happily dancing with an emo twink even though he’d never seen another guy naked before. The emo didn’t know that though.

“Dude, I’m going home.” He yelled through the ear splitting music.

“What why?” his mate replied, genuinely looking surprised.

“I’m going…” he stopped himself. He was going to say ‘going home’, but then he’d been told to say something else. The guy wasn’t here, how would he know? But something inside him twisted. Some off-placed sense of obedience. He sighed to himself.

“…I’m going… with a predator.”

“Who?”

“A predator!” Spencer yelled back. But his friend didn’t reply. He was staring at something behind Spencer which made him turn… only to be greeted by the dominants chest in his face. He looked up, surprised that he’d been standing so close without him noticing, and saw the grin on his face.

“Looks like I’ve got a good loyal pet here after all.” He said to himself laughing. He pulled the collar off his belt holding it up for Spencer who backed up apprehensively.

“It hasn’t been a minute!” he said, almost terrified that he’d done something wrong. But he just shook his head. He came forward with the collar in his hands… slowly, the grin not leaving his face. Maybe he half expected the kid to back away, or yell. But instead he just stood there, trying ever so hard to ignore the fact they were standing on the dance floor. At the edge of it sure, but still close enough for eyes to surround them.

He glanced at it as it came at him: a heavy thick thing with a large belt facing him and a single D-ring at the front. He also noticed that the belt was lockable: a small hole at the end of the pin meant for a padlock. He knew what it meant; he knew what the collar meant. This wasn’t a small dainty thing just for fun. This was a proper ‘ownership collar’. And he didn’t even flinch as it came at him.

It came around his neck and tightened, the leather was cold and made him shiver but his heart was beating like a jack-hammer in his ears. He left it as tight as it would go, leaving no give or room to breathe. He’d be able to feel it constantly, a reminder.

“My name’s Hunter,” the guy said. “I’m taking your buddy home with me for the night, that alright with you kitty?” Spencer jumped, completely forgetting that his mate was standing behind him. He spun around to see the surprised gobsmacked expression. The emo had too, although he was certainly more into it than Spencer’s mate, winking at him and groping his own crotch.

“Sure,” he stammered. His face not changing.

Neither of them noticed or heard Hunter padlock the collar on. After all, he wanted it to be lockable for a reason; he’d paid for it, and it’d be a nice surprise for the kid later when and if he tried to take it off later.

‘Hunter’ –an almost fitting name – winked down at him; throwing his arm around Spencer again, directing them both out of the club. People still stared as they passed; Spencer looking back at the looks of surprise, astonishment and the occasional glimpse of envy as the two of them climbed the steps out of the bar and onto the street. In minutes all of his friends he’d come with knew exactly what had happened. And they’d be long muttering about it in the night. He would be however, the only one of them going home with someone that night; The emo kid made one suggestive comment about a collar and leash of his own and that had been the end of it.

It was late; the bouncers for some reason were missing, not that they seemed to be doing their job anyway. Taking this as a good sign, Hunter took out a short leash from one of his pouches clipping it to the collar.

“Stay boy, time to get you ready.”

“Ready?” He took his coat out of his hands, throwing it on the pavement in a puddle.

“You won’t need this,” he remarked. Next came the cuffs off his belt and he began putting them on him as well, the cool leather touching his wrists and enclosing around them. Still, he just stood there, although little alarm bells went off in his head this time which was at least something. Hunter stared back as he worked, that same smirk.

When both were on, out came the pad locks. Small, barely the size of a thumb, all inscribed with the word ‘master’, just like the one Spencer still hadn’t noticed was on his collar.

Each cuff before long were now all padlocked on and with that, all it took was Hunter to gently pull his arms behind his back and with a carabiner clip, clipped them together.

“Bit dangerous boy, giving yourself over to a complete stranger like this.” Hunter said, pulling Spencer up against his chest.

The hand returned to his crotch which was still rock hard, and now, a little wet with pre-cum. “But your definitely enjoying it huh?” he said. There was little that needed to be said.

“Lucky me.” Said Hunter, picking up Spencer’s discarded coat and threw it over his shoulder.

“So, you owe me. What do you think you need to do for me bitch?” The name-calling taking another step forward, Spencer shifting from one foot to the other testing the strength of the cuffs and the carabiner clip. It didn’t take long for words to leave his mouth.

“I… could…” he couldn’t say it.

“Come on. How are you going to pay your debt to me?” Hunter interrupting. Spencer swallowed, remembering that no-one else was around.

“I could suck your cock,” he murmured. But Hunter just sighed.

“That all?”

“I… could…. Worship you…. Sir.” That sparked a little interest.

“Oh? Worship me you say?” his hands looped around Spencer’s body, grabbing a hold of his arse. “Like muscle do you then bitch? Think I’m worth worshipping do you?” and his smirk returned. The fact he’d said ‘Sir’ wasn’t lost on him either. Spencer nodded.

“Well that’s all very good. But there’s still more you can do.” And he moved in to whisper it in his ear.

“First, call me Master Hunter.” Spencer gulped, feeling his breath tickle the side of his ear.

“Master Hunter,” he whimpered meekly.

“louder,” Hunter said, tugging at the lead a little.

“Master Hunter,” Spencer said again.

“Good pup. That’s how you’re going to finish every sentence from now on.”

“Yes, Master Hunter.” And he laughed. “Good boy. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be able to work off your debt before long. And you’ll be doing it with your shirt…. Un-buttoned….” He said as he firmly ripped open the checked shirt. His body was hit with a gush of cold air that made him shiver and his nipples twitch.

 

Metal would like to thank Pup Shaggy for this story!

For more bondage and kink, visit Str8Hell

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