Leather and Lust

I love having my wicked way with cute submissive boys. Not the broken ones; no-one needs to be reminded on every occasion that they are worthless worms who aren't good enough for me... because it's such a total buzzkill. I want my boy-toys to have a spine, have a bit of spirit, because it's far hotter when they actually yield to me.

And they will yield to me. All of them do.

Tonight's boy-toy was a cute, single twenty-something, pale, freckled, and slightly too-long hair. Lucky for him, I kinda like that. And this particular boy has a thing for leather. Naturally, I won't disappoint.

Flipping through the leather items in the wardrobe, I find it hard to decide between two or three of the choices - a girl has to remember what to accessorise it with! - but I settle on a leather dress that settles down to mid-thigh, shows off my cleavage and finishes with an in-built buckled collar finish around the throat.

I vaguely remember my date having a thing about buckles, so I finish it off with a 3" leather belt that cinches around my waist, and finish the ensemble with matching gloves and boots. Checking the mirror before showtime, I'm a pretty picture in black - dark hair, sulty eyeshadow, blood-red lipstick, black all the way down. Yes, I know it's a bit cliche, but I like it, and I'm pretty sure he will too.

Not that he'll have much of an opportunity to disagree with me if not, but that's half the fun.

I emerge breezily into the bedroom, having lit the smoky-red wall-lamps rather than the much more overbearing ceiling spots, where he is waiting in his boxers, on his knees.

"Good boy."

He looks up at me. "Yes mistress, I try to be for you, mistress."

I raise an eyebrow. "Plus one point for due deference to your mistress, but minus two points for raising your head to me without permission."

"I'm sorry, mistress."

"Yes," I breathed, "you will be. Your arse, in particular, will be sorry." He's not a newbie to the game, nor to me. If I'm any judge - and I flatter myself that I am - he looked up at me precisely because he knows the game and its rules.

"Yes, mistress."

"Well, then, stand up, let me look at you. I hope you've been looking after yourself."

"I try, mistress."

I take up the riding crop from the side and prod him gently when I want him to turn. Good, he's been working out a bit lately, taking care of himself in a way he never used to when I first met him. It's like being looked after by a dominatrix is good for him after all! (It's certainly good for me.)

"Hm, yes, you have been looking after yourself. I think you'll only deserve ten from my crop rather than fifteen you have earned."

I can see it going through his mind, ever so briefly, that our usual game of 6 per negative point is out of the window and he opened his mouth to say something, but wisely closed it again.

"Something to say, boy? I do hope," adding just a tinge of saccharine sweetness to my voice, "that you weren't about to question my counting."

"No, mistress! I would never dare do that!"

"Oh, but yes you would, I know you! I guess we're making it fifteen after all." I smile. "You'll be good and take them for me, and you'll count them, of course."

"Of course, mistress."

This little dance switched up as I gestured towards the bench. Any suitably equipped bedroom has any number of things for cute boys to be tied to, and this room, the play bedroom, had more than its fair share.

"Now, let's see." I take the opportunity to mock-examine him, taking the opportunity to run my smooth gloved hands over his body, briefly and gently around his throat as if measuring it, grabbing a handful of butt-check before slapping it.

"I think tonight it'll be the leather cuffs for you."

I head to the closet, take out the box with the green set in it. I love this set; green patent leather is so shiny and it brings out the best in his eyes. And he loves the feel and look of it on him, so double win.

It doesn't take long for me to buckle the cuffs around his wrists, ankles and thighs, then a belt around his waist to affix things too, though how I'd use it yet I hadn't quite decided. I just wanted to put all the set pieces on him.

Finally, the collar - just a notch tighter than maybe he was expecting - before guiding him onto the bench.

"I think you know what to do."

The bench wasn't really a bench, though for some reason it was called that. In this case it enabled me to restrain someone at the hands and ankles and have them conveniently positioned if I wanted to spank, cane, crop or engage in other more nefarious fun, but for now I was content to buckle the boy in, and admire his cute pale butt sticking up in the air.

"Now, you know what to do, yes?"

"Yes, mistress. Please crop my butt."

I swing, but not so hard, the leather of the riding crop landing squarely and surely.

"One, thank you mistress. Please may I have another?"

Mmm, he remembered his place. I liked it. I liked it enough to swing the crop again and land it on almost exactly the same spot. The slight intake of breath was delicious, as was his counting, thanking and asking for another.

And if there was any debate about whether I was merely cruelly abusing him or not, I could see his cock already quite stiff from where I was standing. It was going to get harder yet, but good start.

I switched sides, alternating every couple of swings, careful to only land blows on the same spot no more than a couple of times. I might be a very deep sadist but I wasn't really cruel.

But I was cruel enough to tell him that a few didn't really count for whatever spurious reason I could dream up - did I even need a reason? I was the boss here! - so when we finally got to fifteen, it was probably more like thirty, and his cock was now very stiff and his balls had grown a little since I'd entered the room.

And his previously pale butt was now glowing a rather nice shade of red for me. I dispensed a little lotion from a bottle I keep for such emergencies, and gently, but perhaps not quite 'tenderly' rubbed it into his butt. I wanted it to be tingly, stimulated without being tender... well, without being *too* tender, anyway.

He was pushing his hips into me just a little, I didn't want him getting too eager just yet, but we were just entering that heady space where I didn't want to break the spell, so I let it slip just this once.

I unbuckled the cuffs, and helped him stand up - he was just a little wobbly - and his shaft was now very firmly erect for me.

"Someone's pleased to see me." I smiled. "Good boy."

Have to be honest, even just that little bit of fun and I was a little more damp than I wanted to admit, but I wasn't going to ride him until I'd worked him over a little more. Needy, desperate boy-toys make more delicious noises that way.

"Hmm, how do I want you?" I bit my lip, feigning a certain amount of indecision - giving him a moment to relax and settle into where this is going.

"I want you over there," I say, pointing to a spot across the room, with my crop. I don't think he's been here since I had the ceiling hooks fitted.

I watch him stand, a little stiffly (well, his cock, a lot more stiffly) but in the right space, head bowed slightly, waiting for instructions. The fact he wasn't immediately "yes, mistress"ing me was a good sign... he'd entered that slightly more pliable mental state... subspace.

"Legs apart," I tapped his thigh gently with the crop and he sprang up and widened his legs to slightly beyond shoulder width.

"A little more." He shifted his way more cautiously this time but did as instructed. "Good boy."

Just far enough, now, for the spreader bar to be in between his legs. As I came back up, I kissed the tip of his cock, and it twitched ever so nicely.

"Wrists out." He held his wrists forward as I connected a chain to them, and hooked it around a sort of pulley which I put on the ceiling hook, before pulling it up, raising his arms high above his head, and forcing him to stay there.

Mmm, I love a cute boy who's mine and can't go anywhere. So many fun possibilities. Running a gloved fingertip down his chest and abs to the leather belt, I smiled and just observed how vulnerable he was, and how I could do anything.

"But," I noted, "I hope you don't have any objections to what's about to happen. It would be a shame if you did." I let that hang in the air, leaving the point open for a question...

"Why, mistress?" There it was.

This was about to be something new to our game. "Because you're not going to be able to object." With that, I brandished a black ball-gag, also with matching patent leather strap. "Last chance to object."

He just opened his mouth. This I didn't expect, I expected a bratty comeback I could punish him for, or some witticism about it not being big enough. Maybe he was a little deeper into subspace than I gave him credit for, or maybe he was more scared than he wanted to admit.

I also produced a small rubber ball, about tennis-ball sized, and pushed it into one of his cuffed hands. "There, if you need to stop at any time, let go of this."

He nodded, then opened his mouth for the gag.

"No need to be nervous, just let me put this in... and buckle it up... there we go, nice and snug and now I won't have to listen to you moaning if I spank you too hard." Not that that had ever happened, and that was the point.

"And a little something to help you concentrate on the sensations." I produced the matching patent leather blindfold. I wasn't sure it would actually block out the light fully, but if it didn't that was probably an advantage. Truth be told, I mostly wanted to just see him spread before me, hard as hell, blindfolded and gagged and waiting for me to have my way with him. It's still a fun, hot memory.

In fact just getting this far, I found myself uncomfortably damp, so I reached down, wiped a little with my gloved fingertip and wafted it under his nose. From the tensing of his muscles - and the twitch of his cock - he recognised the scent.

I wiped it down him, then ran my hands up and down his chest, just leather on skin, tracing the lines of his musculature, occasionally pinching a nipple gently. Then a gentle gloved hand on his cock, and a cruel idea came to mind as I started to gently wank him off.

I could see a little drool forming in the corner of his mouth, and his knees began to sag just the tiniest bit as he was fighting to keep control over all his muscles, especially his thighs, as I ran my hand up and down his shaft, working it.

I gave it a good few moments before stopping, to instead work the rest of him - pressing myself against his side, raking the surface with my fingers in lieu of nails, licking, sucking his skin, occasionally sucking on his nipples, grinding my crotch against his leg.

It was a heady mix for my boy; I'm not usually quite so hands-on as this, at least not in this part of the scene, before I resumed working his shaft.

I could tell his neediness was growing, as well as his closeness - pre-cum had formed on the tip - and I felt his muscles tensing, and urgent noises bubbling in his throat... good boy that he is, knows he's not to cum without permission. And in his throat the noises are forming of trying to be a good boy, somewhere between trying to ask for permission and beg me to stop.

What he doesn't know is that I'm not going to stop, but as he's about to reach that pleasurable moment... I'm going to intervene, and I reach with my other hand onto his balls, and pull them slightly away from his shaft, massaging them firmly.

He's confused and panting - but to his credit, doesn't drop the ball he's holding - and he shoots a load a little out of my hand, but it's clear from the notes quavering in his throat that this wasn't fun for him. Another first chalked up, a ruined orgasm.

"There we go. Released that pressure from your otherwise lovely cock, without you having too much fun from it. Even good boys don't deserve to have too much fun."

His facial features are obscured by the blindfold and gag, but if I had to guess, I'd imagine there was some internal panic, and some disappointment going on. No matter, he'll find some fun shortly.

"You see, I don't want you cumming until I've come and I haven't played with you nearly enough yet." It wasn't clear if he was pleased or not by this, but I got some positive vibes from it.

I released the chain holding his wrists up, unclipped the spreader bar and suggested he could stretch or relax his muscles for a moment. He knew fine that I wasn't going to take off his gag or blindfold yet. I'm not that nice to him, but as far as he's ever told me, he liked it that way.

Now came the use for that belt and thigh cuffs. I led him to the bed, had him sit down on the edge for a moment, before instructing him to lay back, knees up, allowing me to fix the thigh cuffs to the belt.

This now left me with a boy on his back, legs up and out the way with plenty of access to forbidden boy butt territory. (At least, forbidden for most boys, but I think he really liked it.)

First up, a small conical buttplug, just to wake his butt up and get it into a good mood. A little lube on the plug, and his butthole, and gentle pushing and it plopped into place ever so nicely, with an audible gasp from behind that gag.

I tapped the end a few times, and he gasped a couple more times. Seems I'd chosen the right size for him, as I gently rocked it back and forth inside his butt, and he was doing the cutest wiggle as I did so. Already he was starting to recover his hardness.

Good, because it was going to make the next thing easier. I had an idea I'd wanted to try with him for a while, but the mood hadn't struck before - and somehow today was the day.

After playing with the plug, teasing and tensing, I pulled it out and instead found the toy I'd never used on anyone before. Another first eh?

Three quite large anal beads on a rubber connector, leading to a rubber cock ring... I figured I'd get him really hard again, loop the one end over his cock and balls, insert the rest in his butt, and when I rode him to cum inside me, he would be suffering that sweet sensation of being extra-sensitive where he was held back by the ruined orgasm and then the toy.

Hmm, he was recovering his hardness but, really, not fast enough. I started licking the underside of his throbbing, sensitive shaft, sucked his head a couple of times, until he was hard enough for what I wanted.

The cock ring was a bit fiddly but I got his balls into it as intended, so it was pushing them down, making it harder for him to cum when he got there.

As for the beads, he fidgeted and wiggled as each went in, accompanied each time by a throaty, lengthy deep sigh of contentment. I can't have him having *all* the fun around here.

I took his hands, tied them to the bed with ropes, unclipped his thighs from the belt so I could tie his legs to the bed. He looked rather cute, spread-eagled on the bed with his shaft now so deliciously taut and tight.

But he just hadn't quite suffered enough for me to have him or to let him cum. At least, if he could talk, that's probably what he'd say, he is a bit of a painslut. So I find the nipple clamps - the really mean crocodile clip ones - and attach them to a low moan equal parts pain and pleasure.

But I'm sure he knows the deal here... that crescendo is coming and he has to earn cumming. I won't tell him that he's already earned it by putting up with my handling of him... I could put my hand gently on his face and reassure him, but right now he needs me to claim him, not reassure him.

With the application of the clamps, his cock is now fully engorged as I remember, and finally it's time for us both to cum, and cum hard.

I flip up the bottom of my dress, tucking it inside the belt. It's not pretty but it's otherwise in the way of my damp, hungry cunt. It's not like he can see it. I also get out one of my stronger vibrators and switch it on.

Now, this thing will rumble through me until I cry out, but I'm not the first user - victim - of the evening. I press it against the rubber of the anal beads, letting its sensations travel down through his butt, and I even hold the two together quite hard to get as much of that friction as I can into him, and he's twitching as the motions wash over him.

I also gently touch it to his balls a couple of times, and the sensitivity of his body to the vibrations makes me wonder if he's going to cum from it but of course I'm not going to.

I clamber onto the bed, and gently, slowly... achingly slowly for him, I'm sure, slide my hot, wet, dripping cunt down his shaft. As I reach the bottom, filled in all dimensions by his throbbing cock, we both grunt in satisfaction.

He's already trying to buck his hips into me to get some friction going because, damn, he wants to cum, but that's not how this works. I lean forward a little and push my own hips back, pinning him into the bed such that he can't move.

"Nu-uh, you don't get to fuck me here. The only thing that's happening is I'm going to fuck you until I cum." If he weren't gagged, and/or deep in his private subspace about now, he'd be brattily pointing out that he gets to cum too, but right now I think the sum total of his brain is focusing on how damn good it feels to have my body around his, and how good it's going to feel momentarily.

I start flexing my own hips, lifting myself up and thrusting myself back down his shaft, taking every pulsing, twitching inch in me. I'd missed this, it was something that I didn't do nearly enough with my boy-toys, was to just fuck them how I wanted them.

I didn't hurry, languidly rising up and pushing back down, getting maximum friction for minimum speed, as I rose and fell on his cock, every full motion pulling a grunt from my throat.

I stopped for a moment, lodging my vibrator in place between my pelvic bone and his hip, so I could grind my way up and down his very excited shaft while stimulating my clit. That part's a bit hard to describe, but his beautiful cock running up and down the inside of my cunt, combined with pulses of sensation on my clit, it meant that my own need was coming 'real soon now'.

My hips bucking sped up, I wanted it all, all the heat, all the friction, all the movement, all the moment. All the stimulation, all the satisfaction as I had to brace myself on his chest as I cried out, everything on fire, everything overstimulated, waves of that feeling hitting me as I carried on riding his cock... I lost track if I cried out several times, just as I lost track of whether I came once or several times, it all blurred.

I slowed moving, spent, dislodged the vibrator, and realised my boy was not only still rock hard, but hadn't cum yet. I took the clamps off, and without getting off him, I smiled and told him he could cum.

He started flexing his hips, trying to get just a little more friction, which got more urgent, so in time with his flexing I started moving again, pulling up on his back-stroke, pushing down as he thrust for maximum friction along each motion, grunting and gasping with each stroke of his cock along my cunt.

A few more moments passed, with this beautiful boy beneath me, bound, gagged, filling me, fulfilling me as he finally let go his load, its warmth coating me, and a long, almost painful moan came out behind the gag, tailing off as his cum eruption settled.

Whatever he'd been bottling up physically - or, if I knew him, emotionally - since last time I fucked his brains out, it came out with that explosion.

I carefully climbed off him, unbuckled the gag to him gasping and smiling, before taking off the blindfold, and stroking his face with tenderness. "My beautiful boy. You were spectacular."

He smiled, "Thank you, mistress, so were you." Damn you, making me blush even a little.