The club smelled like sweat, leather, and lube. I walked in wearing nothing but tight black jeans and boots, my chest bare, nipples already hard from the cold air. The back room was darker, lit only by red bulbs. That’s where I saw him. Tall, broad, in full leather harness and pants that hugged his thick thighs. He had a crop in one hand and a collar in the other. Our eyes locked and I knew I was fucked before I even spoke.
“On your knees, boy,” he said, voice low and rough. No introduction, no small talk. I dropped right there on the concrete floor. He stepped close, boots inches from my face. “Name?”
“Alex,” I answered.
“Tonight you’re mine. Call me Sir.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He buckled the collar around my neck and clipped on a leash. The leather was warm from his hands. He yanked me forward and I crawled after him to a padded bench. He shoved me down on my stomach, arms stretched out, and cuffed my wrists to the rings at the head. My jeans came off fast. One hard tug and they hit the floor. My cock was already leaking against the bench.
He ran the crop over my ass, teasing. Then the first strike landed. Sharp, burning. I grunted. Another. And another. He worked my cheeks until they glowed hot, each hit making my dick twitch. “Count them,” he ordered.
“Five, Sir. Six, Sir.” By ten my voice was shaking.
My ass burned but my hole clenched, hungry.
He spit on my crack and rubbed it in with two thick fingers. No warning. He pushed one inside, then two, stretching me open while I strained against the cuffs. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he growled. “Gonna wreck this hole tonight.”
He pulled his fingers out and I heard his zipper. His cock slapped against my ass, heavy and hard. He rubbed the head over my hole, teasing, then shoved in deep on one thrust. I yelled. He didn’t stop. He fucked me hard, hips slamming, leather creaking with every thrust. The cuffs rattled. My cock rubbed the bench with each shove, smearing pre-cum.
He reached under and grabbed my balls, squeezing just enough to make me whimper. “You like getting used, don’t you?” he said, pounding deeper.
“Yes, Sir. Fuck, yes.”
He pulled out and flipped me onto my back. My wrists stayed cuffed above my head. He straddled my chest and fed me his cock. I opened wide and took it, tasting my own ass on him. He fucked my throat slow at first, then faster, balls slapping my chin. Spit ran down my neck. When he pulled back I gasped for air, strings of saliva connecting us.
“Legs up,” he ordered. He cuffed my ankles to the sides of the bench so I was spread wide, hole exposed. He grabbed a bottle of lube and slicked his cock again, then pushed back inside. This angle hit my prostate every time. My own cock bounced against my stomach, untouched, aching.
He leaned down and bit my nipple hard while he fucked me. Pain and pleasure mixed until I couldn’t tell them apart. He slapped my cock a few times, making it bounce. “Don’t come yet,” he warned. “Not until I say.”
I nodded, biting my lip. He kept going, relentless, sweat dripping from his chest onto mine. The leather of his harness rubbed my skin raw. Every thrust stretched me wider. My hole felt used, puffy, perfect.
He pulled out again and uncuffed my ankles only to flip me face down once more. This time he added a spreader bar between my knees so I couldn’t close my legs. He worked three fingers into me, then four, opening me up until I was panting. “Ready for more?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir. Please.”
He grabbed a thick black dildo from his bag and pressed it against my hole. It was bigger than his cock. He worked it in slow, twisting, stretching me until my rim burned. Once it was seated deep he started fucking me with it, hard and steady. My cock dripped onto the bench. I begged, words slurring.
Finally he pulled the toy out and slammed his cock back in. He fucked like he was punishing me, each thrust knocking the air from my lungs. His hand wrapped around my throat from behind, squeezing just enough. “Come now,” he growled in my ear.
I came untouched, cock pulsing, ropes of cum hitting the bench and my stomach. My ass clenched around him. He kept fucking through it until he pulled out, ripped off the condom, and shot thick loads across my red ass and lower back. Hot, sticky, marking me.
He uncuffed my wrists and rubbed my sore shoulders. We stayed like that a minute, breathing hard. Then he wiped me down with a towel from his bag and helped me stand. My legs shook.
“Same time next week?” he asked, already buckling his harness tighter.
I nodded, collar still around my neck. “Yes, Sir.”
He clipped the leash back on and led me out of the room. The night wasn’t over yet.
