He clicked the profile on gaybdsm com at 2 a.m., hard already from the thumbnail alone. MasterRage. 42, thick build, zero tolerance for safe words once the scene started. The ad said raw sessions only, no limits, no mercy. Jake messaged him anyway. Within minutes the reply came back: address, time, bring nothing but your hole and your pain tolerance.
Jake showed up at the warehouse door an hour later. The place smelled like leather, sweat, and old cum. MasterRage opened it wearing only black jeans and boots, chest covered in dark hair. He grabbed Jake by the throat and shoved him inside without a word.
“Strip. Now.”
Jake peeled off his clothes fast. His cock was already leaking. MasterRage snapped a thick leather collar around his neck and locked it. Then came the cuffs—wrists behind his back, ankles spread and chained to floor rings. Jake was bent over a padded bench, ass up, face down. The first slap landed hard across both cheeks.
“Count.”
“One, Sir.”
The second came harder, then the third. By ten Jake’s ass was burning and his voice was shaking. MasterRage didn’t stop at ten. He kept going until Jake’s thighs trembled and his cock dripped a steady string onto the floor.
“Fucking slut. You came here to get used.”
A lubed finger shoved straight into Jake’s hole, rough and deep. Two fingers followed, then three, twisting and stretching him open without warning. Jake groaned into the bench. MasterRage pulled his fingers out and replaced them with the blunt head of his cock. One hard thrust and he was buried balls-deep.
He fucked like he meant to break something. Long, punishing strokes that slammed Jake forward against the restraints. Every time Jake tried to push back, a heavy hand cracked across his already raw ass. Sweat ran down his back. His own cock swung uselessly, untouched.
MasterRage pulled out, walked around, and fed his cock into Jake’s mouth. “Clean it.” Jake sucked greedily, tasting his own ass and the thick salt of precum. MasterRage held his head and fucked his throat until spit ran down his chin and tears streaked his face.
Then the real toys came out. A thick plug was shoved in dry and left there while MasterRage attached clamps to Jake’s nipples and balls. Every tug sent sharp pain straight to Jake’s cock.
The plug came out and was swapped for a bigger one, then a bigger one still, until Jake’s hole gaped around the widest part.
MasterRage finally unlocked the ankle chains and flipped Jake onto his back on the bench. He re-cuffed his wrists above his head and spread his legs wide. The clamps stayed on. A leather paddle came down across the inside of Jake’s thighs, then across his clamped balls. Jake howled.
“Beg for the dick.”
“Please, Sir. Fuck me. Use my hole.”
MasterRage shoved back in, this time facing him, one hand around Jake’s throat, the other yanking the nipple clamps in rhythm with his thrusts. Jake came without touching himself, shooting across his own stomach while his ass clenched around the thick cock pounding him. MasterRage didn’t slow down. He kept fucking through the orgasm until Jake was shaking and oversensitive, then pulled out and painted Jake’s face and open mouth with thick ropes of cum.
He left Jake there for a minute, breathing hard, cum cooling on his skin. Then the cuffs came off. MasterRage wiped his face with a rough cloth, unlocked the collar, and handed him a bottle of water.
“Same time next week. Don’t be late.”
Jake walked out into the night with a sore ass, a locked collar in his pocket, and a new message already waiting on gaybdsm com. MasterRage had already booked the next session.
