Marcus shoved the white boy face-down onto the leather bench the second the door clicked shut. "Strip. Now." His voice was gravel and command, no room for questions. The kidBlake, twenty-three, pale skin already flushingscrambled to obey, yanking off his clothes until he was naked and shaking. Marcus watched, thick arms crossed over his broad chest, the bulge in his jeans obvious and heavy.
"Hands behind your back." Marcus snapped cold steel cuffs around Blake's wrists, yanking them tight. He grabbed a fistful of blond hair and pulled the boy's head up. "You came here for this, didn't you? White boy looking to get wrecked by a real black dick."
"Yes, Sir," Blake breathed.
Marcus laughed low, then slapped him hard across the face. "Louder."
"Yes, Sir!"
He shoved Blake's face back down and spread his ass cheeks with rough hands. Two thick fingers pushed straight into the tight hole without lube. Blake grunted and bucked, but Marcus held him down. "Take it. This ass is mine tonight." He finger-fucked him fast and deep, scissoring, stretching, until spit and pre-cum made everything slick. Then he pulled out and wiped his fingers on Blake's back.
The flogger came next. Marcus swung it in heavy arcs across Blake's shoulders, ass, and thighs. Each strike landed with a sharp crack, leaving red welts that bloomed fast. Blake moaned and pushed his hips up for more. Marcus gave it to himtwenty hard lashes until the boy's skin was striped and hot. "Look at you, leaking on my floor like a bitch in heat."
He unzipped and pulled out his cock. Thick, veined, dark, already rock-hard and leaking. Nine inches of black meat that made Blake's eyes widen. Marcus slapped it across the boy's face.
"Open." Blake took the head, then more, gagging as Marcus fed him inch after inch until his nose pressed against the trimmed pubes. Marcus held him there, throat flexing, spit running down his chin. When he pulled out, strings of saliva connected them.
Marcus walked around behind him and lined up. No warning. He drove in balls-deep in one thrust. Blake cried out, the stretch brutal. Marcus didn't stop. He fucked him hard, hips snapping, the bench creaking under the force. Every stroke bottomed out, balls slapping, the wet sound of raw fucking filling the room. "This white ass was made for black cock," Marcus growled, gripping the cuffs like reins. "Say it."
"My ass was made for black cock, Sir!"
Marcus pulled out, flipped him onto his back, and cuffed his ankles to the bench legs, spreading him wide. He shoved back in and kept pounding, one hand around Blake's throat, the other stroking the boy's leaking dick in time with his thrusts. "Don't you come until I say."
He edged him like that for long minutesdeep, punishing strokes, then slowing to grind against his prostate until Blake was sobbing and begging. Marcus added clamps to his nipples, twisting them until the boy arched and wailed. Sweat dripped down Marcus's chest onto Blake's stomach. The smell of sex and leather was thick.
Finally Marcus yanked the clamps off, slammed in deep, and ordered, "Come." Blake shot hard, ropes hitting his own chest and face. His hole clenched tight around Marcus's cock. Marcus rode it out, then pulled free, stood over him, and stroked once, twice. Thick cum painted Blake's face and open mouthhot, heavy spurts that the boy swallowed greedily.
Marcus unlocked the cuffs but didn't let him move. He wiped his cock across Blake's lips. "Clean it." Blake licked him soft, thorough, tasting himself on the dark skin. When Marcus was satisfied he hauled the boy up by the hair and kissed him rough, biting his lower lip.
"Next week, same time. Bring a friend if you want. I got plenty of rope." He slapped Blake's sore ass one last time. "Now get out. I got work to do."
Blake left on shaky legs, marked and used, already counting the days until the chains and that thick black cock owned him again.
