SIR,

This boy is blown away at how You were able to take him into subspace with only a pocket full of hankies, the strength of Your large gloved hands and the forcefulness of your muscular body. In the past, when the boy entered subspace, it was through the sadist's use of implements, be it a flogger, paddle, belt, sharps, scalpel, winch and all kinds of other kinky tools of the trade. You led the boy unto Yourself and into bliss simply by using your hankies; silently disciplining the boy, abusing him with your booted feet and gloved hands, and feeding him your juices. The boy is grateful to You for the intense scene, for sharing Your power with him, and for teaching him that in the end, the gear, tools, fetishes and implements so prevalent in BDSM are not absolutely necessary for power exchange and the sadoerotic experience.

When the boy first saw You, SIR, You were at the Eagle standing against the wall, your leg up and your black booted planted firmly on the wall, intently puffing on a cigar, watching some fucker pulling a boy's nips. The boy grins as he rubs his crotch staring at Your gloved hand laying against Your leather crotch, as if pointing to where the boy should focus his energies. The boy isn't very confident that he'll ever have a chance of meeting such a tall, hot fucker like You, SIR. He is intent just to let the burning hot images of You sear his memory so he can retrieve them during intense scenes and even long jack off or enema sessions. But unlike some sadists, who make the boy come groveling toward them, showing signs of submission and their desire to serve, you simply raise Your gloved hand and wave your index finger motioning the boy to come over, and then point to Your boots.

You can be sure that this boy is thrilled at the prospect of kissing Your boots, SIR, but like most boys, he isn't sure exactly how to do this. Yes, yes, silly boys, always making the most simple things difficult, but honestly, SIR, this boy believes that the initial impression and first presentation of a boy are important, and the boy hopes they are memorable both for himself and the sadist. So the question was, should the boy walk over there to present himself to You or should he drop to the floor and crawl over to the hot fucker against the wall, who is smiling a big toothy grin while pointing at his shiny black harness boots. As You know the boy decides to lower his head, walk over to You, drop to the floor and kiss both boots. Boot boy that he is, the boy starts to lick the boots, sucking on the square toe, and begins to moan as his cock stirs in his tight black jeans. Boy moves from the boot tip to the circular boot harness, sucks on the straps of leather, licks round the circle of steel and moves his head back to the heel, his tongue slowly licking the black leather, his cock leaking precum, his mind lost in images of the hot fucker pointing to these very boots.

The boy licks both boots before the Man taps the boy on the head. What the hell, the boy thought, never had a hot fucker head tap his head before - what does that tap mean, get up, stop, lick more? The boy decides it means to simply kneel upright and stare at the Man's crotch and hope his interpretation was correct. When the boy raises his head. the man cups the back of the boy's head and forces his face into the leather crotch, which the boy sucks and licks until the Man's cock is bulging through the leather. Boy begins to gnaw on the black snake, hungry for mancock, wanting its power to fill him, hoping this Man will take him tonight and make him His own.

He never said a word.

As the boy sucks on the black leather, the Man pulls out a gray hankie from His back pocket, tears it into three strips, bends His tall lanky body over the boy, totally overshadowing him, and forces the boy to clasp one wrist with the other hand before he ties his shaking hands together. Now licking the meaty crotch, the boy begins to tremble with fear, not knowing what this Man is planning, concerned that He did not say a word before placing him in bondage.

His gloved hand raises the boy's head and He stares into boy's eyes, His piercing blue eyes mesmerizing the boy, calming him and drawing him more and more unto Himself - the hot stud with no name and no voice. Perhaps the Man is deaf and does not speak well?, the boy thought to himself. Boy assumes that is the case and knows he can handle this situation as he had mummified and pierced a deaf man twice without any problems. The Man continues to stare into his eyes, making a broad smile as if He was telling the boy that everything was alright. The Man then rubs his gloved hands along boy's face, almost an affectionate gesture which he took to mean that he would be safe. Would he?

The Man gestures for the boy to rise and to follow him, which the boy does, with His assistance, walking a step behind Him through the bar. Boy calls over one of his fraternity brothers who walks with him as he tells him what he is doing. The brother thinks the boy is crazy for doing this, so the boy asks his brother to stop the Man and present the boy's calling card and gesture for the Man to give His. It works. The Man smiles as he presents his card that reveals he was the winner of a leather contest - which allays all the boy's fears. The fraternity brother puts the card in his pocket and the boy once again follows the Man down the stairs and out the front door to where he does not know.

The Man stands behind the boy slowly guiding him across the street and into his red pickup truck. Boy is amused to see a coil of hemp rope on the front seat which He throws in the back of the truck. He then pats the seat, showing the boy to sit - the boy happy to learn that he is not being thrown in to the back of the truck with the rope as has happened before in his kinky life. The Man laughs as he watches the boy try over and over again to get into the front seat with his hands tied behind his back. He finally goes over to lift the boy into the truck, fastens the seat belt around him and slams the door. At least he practices auto safety the boy muses, hoping he can trust the man with no voice.

A word is never spoken.

The silence is deafening. The boy can hear his heart pounding as he closes his eyes, breathing deeply and then slowly, thinking about kneeling before the Man, licking his boots and gloves, awaiting whatever torment He might dish out in the stillness of the night. Boy opens his eyes to see that they are no longer on the highway but driving up a dirt road through a densely, dark forest of evergreens. Where the hell is he taking me? The boy starts to panic, remembering the time when he was 16 that he was picked up as a hitchhiker - by a big muscular stud who said he was a football player from Pittsburgh. The man could barely fit into the small Volkswagen bug he was driving. Images of the scary scene flash before him as the truck slowly goes down the windy road through the thick forest. The football player puts his hand on the boy's leg and gently squeezes all the way up to his cock as he turns the car around to head towards Pittsburgh. 'Where are you going, I live in the opposite direction?,' the nervous boy inquires.

'Ah, don't worry kid, just bumming around. I'll take good care of you, no worries.' No worries? Heading towards Pittsburgh?

The Man with no voice senses agitation in the boy and places his big gloved hand on the boy's thigh, squeezing it gently, trying to calm him down. The boy jumps - his mind focused on the football player, feeling him stroke his cock through his pants. Boy breaks out into a sweat, almost having a panic attack: Where is this man taking me is all he keeps thinking to himself as the Man finally lifts his gloved hand from his thigh to grab the wheel. Sweet Mother of God, don't let me get into trouble tonight. I should have listened to my fraternity brother.

The truck stops in front of a deserted log cabin, shrouded with pine trees, in the middle of no where. The Man jumps out of the truck, walks around the truck to open the door and unstrap the seat belt before lifting the shaking boy out of the truck, gently placing him on the ground. He stares in the boys eyes and then wraps his arms around him to give a firm bear hug before planting his lips on the boy's lips trying to suck away his fear and fill his lungs with his hot breath repeatedly, calming the boy as he controls his breathing. He reaches down to remove the boy's bindings, loosens the liplock, unpinches the boy's nose, and slowly leads the wobly boy into the cabin. Images of the nightmare leave his mind as he tries to surrender himself to the moment and give himself to the silent Man who knows how to calm this boy, binding him unto himself with his strong hands, hot breath, piercing blue eyes, and immediate responses to the boy's feelings.

The place is bare except for cooking utensils, a cabinet, table and two chairs, and a twin bed, that is made in the military style with simple white sheets. Nothing kinky about this place the boy thinks to himself. The man goes to the cabinet to get a paper and pen and takes his time writng instructions for the boy.

'Boy, you have nothing to fear. Surrender yourself into my keeping and give me your full submission. You will be safe in my hands. While you are in this cabin you will serve me and focus your mind and energies on my boots, my cock, my hands and my power that will take you to a place you have never been before. You will remain on your hands and knees at all times. If you need to tell me something, tap your boot on the floor three times or make a fist three times. I will give you pen and paper. If you agree to this, let me know by kissing my boots. SIR.'

The boy sighs with relief, drops to his knees and worships the Man's boots with his tongue, drawn to the Man with no voice, wondering how He might take the boy to a place where he has never been, and hoping to give himself totally in service to this Man who has cast a spell over his soul.

The boy knows that surrender is the key to service, the doorway into bliss, and the foundation for any BDSM scene. The boy must give himself totally to the sadist, hand himself over to the pain that will rack his body, surrender his power to the man who dominates him, and open his mind, heart and soul to the possibility of

pleasurable pain, bliss and communion with the one to whom he submits. Without surrender, pain becomes unbearable and the sadists efforts to make love with pain turn into the adminstration of brutal pain, the kind of pain that does not lead you into subspace but distorts the soul, dissolves trust, enhances fear and ends any

semblance of safe, sane and consensual leathersex. As the boy licks the boots, he focuses his entire self on surrendering to the Man, submitting to his power, and handing himself over to whatever pain the Master gives to him.

He said it, called the Man 'Master.' He knows that this word connotes the boy's willingness to totally submit and surrender himself to the sadist. Even though he is not collared, nor a slave, he refers to a sadist as 'Master' for the sadist is now in control and Master of the boy's little world. Calling a man 'Master' also recognizes his experience and the boy thinks that is a good thing. Sometimes he worries that a sadist will not like being addressed as Master, as it might mean the boy expects more from the sadist than he is willing to give. Addressing the Man as 'Master' might be seen as presumptous on the boy's part, so he tries not to utter the word, but simply calls the sadist 'SIR' while addressing him as Master in his innermost self.

The Man points to the bed, directing him to crawl over to the place where he will spend most of the night. He motions for the boy to undress so the boy, who is now sweating in the stuffy, overly hot cabin, removes his boots, then all of his clothes except his black jock before replacing his boots. The man pulls the boy's thick cock from its jock and uses the remainder of the gray hankie he had torn at the bar to bind his cock, one as a cockring and the other to tie his ballsack. The boy is surprised that it functions just as well as a leather or chrome cockring as his boycock is now engorged with blood, standing erect and beginning to ooze precum.

Boy is horny for the touch of this Master. The Man removes his vest and shirt to reveal a beautiful pelt of black hair on a perfectly chiseled torso, not the body of a muscle stud, but more like a swimmer's build or a redneck kind of look. Boy's cock twitches as he stares at the beautiful treasure line leading to Master's crotch which is now packing meat.

Master points to his boots and uses his hand to suggest that the boy remove the very worn, yet perfectly polished boots. He kisses the boots and then struggles to remove the tightly fitting harness boots. Master drops his leather pants-- the boy sees that he is not wearing any underwear, standing before him buck naked, his

beautiful pink cock hanging picture perfect over his very large hairless balls. Wow, is all the boy can say, not because its an enormous cock, it is not. His mancock is perfect, beautiful, simply magnificent. Boy licks his lips, wanting to lick those balls the size of peaches and wrap his tongue around the thick, pink shaft, but the master points to his boots motioning for the boy to replace them.

The boy kisses the Man's bare feet and begins to lick them. Master groans. Ah, the boy thinks, He must like this, and so boy continues to suckle on Master's toes causing the man to loose his balance - Master falling back, dropping into a wood chair and raising his feet for the boy to service them, which he eagerly does, his cock now dropping a thin stream of viscous precum, as he gnaws on the soles of the Man's feet. The Man groans even louder as the boy looks up to see his mancock totally rigid and lying against His chiseled abs, the head beyond His sexy 'outie' bellybutton, begging to be sucked dry by the boy's mouth. The boy continues to lick both feet, sucking every perfectly manicured toe, an act of worship of the Man with no voice and the cock of a god.

The boy not only has a boot fetish, but he also enjoys licking a man's feet, not really enjoying the dirt and toe jam some men crave, but the simple humilating act of groveling before the Master, at his feet where he belongs,giving him the ultimate sign of submission by worshipping the part of the body held in most distain by

most Western folks. One can get no lower than this, the boy thinks to himself, remembering his time in Rome when he watched the cardinals kiss the foot of the Pope - the humilating gesture recognizing his ultimate power and authority. Boy wants to give this man the same submission and recognize his power over him by not only kissing his feet, but by licking them clean, every swipe of his tongue and act of adoration of the silent Man with a cock desering his total worship.

Master grabs that godly cock and shakes it at the boy, a gob of precum striking the boy in the face, dripping down his fu man chu and slowly making its way to the boy's lips. The first taste of the Master's juice. He is now in the boy, possessing the boy, forcing him to give himself fully, making him beg for his juices and total communion with his Master.

The boy kisses Master's boots and slips them onto His clean feet, staring at Master's hairy, muscle calves. He must ride a bike, jog or walk a lot to have calves such as these, the boy thinks to himself. Boy's mind goes back to his time living among the Huli of Papua New Guinea, a fierce warrior tribe where the people believed that the seat of the emotions is not in the heart, but in a person's calves. To show love to a person, one dropped to his knees and hugged and stroked the man's calves, the more love for the man, the longer he stroked the bulging muscles, finally laying his head on the man's thighs, the most intense way of expressing love for another. And so boy the boy slowly strokes Master's calves, and even dares to hug them to finally rest his head on Master's knee, deep feelings of reverence and desire overcoming him. Master strokes the boy's shaved head for a few moments and then slaps his head with his cock,pulling his chin up with his gloved hand and points the the bed.

Boy begins the crawl to the bed eager to find out the manner in which Master will take him. There is nothing in this room to use on the boy and so he is quite curious about the ways of this Man. Maybe he is just a suck and fuck kind of man? Perhaps fisting, but the bed is not set up for that and there is no crisco, lube or gloves. What is Master going to do?

Master's boot nudges the boy to get going, kicking the boy's ass, pushing on his balls, forcing him on towards the bed. Once the boy arrives, he begins to crawl up onto the bed, but Master slaps his ass and directs him to stop as he backs up a few steps, and points to his boots. Damn, more boot licking the boy thinks to himself. Hasn't he done enough already -- his tongue is sore and his mouth is so dry? Almost as if reading the boy's mind, Master's gloved hand forces the boy's mouth open, his fingers reaching deeply into his throat causing the boy to gag, making him want to suck Master's gloves but Master quickly removes his hand to drip gob after gob of spittle into his thirsty gullet. Boy licks his lip smiling, enjoying his Master's fluid, each string of spit making him beg for more.

Master then lifts the boy's legs placing his feet onto the bed, then motioning the boy to do push-ups onto his boots. Boy sees that Master is into discipline. And so he begins to slowly pump out the push-ups, each time kissing Master's boot, every time feeling His gloved hand slap his ass cheeks hard, and then very hard, almost knocking the boy to the floor. Sweat begins to glisten on the boy's back and shaved head, dripping onto the floor. He finally reaches thirty and is barely able to go on, but Master orders more. Fuck, the boy says out loud, the muscles in his arms are sore and his ass is on fire, as Master removed his glove and is now using it as a tawse, the black leather gloves tearing up the boy's buttocks. Never before had the boy's ass been beat with a leather glove - a sensation that arouses the boy - almost the same feeling as a leather tawse, even a soft flogger. Master sometimes varies the tempo and forecfullness of the stripes, fast, hard stripes ripping into his flesh, forcing the boy to drop to the floor pressing his ass upwards begging for more stripes, causing the push ups to become even more painful. Boy's cock is rigid, poking the floor every time he drops to kiss Master's boot, his full balls are crushed by the weight of his sweating body, pumping precum out of boycock, leaving a small puddle on the floor, the head of his cock sliding in the ooze making him even more aroused with each and every painful push up.

The boy wants more pain, but his muscles are burning, coursing with lactic acid. Master does not care and orders the boy to do more, his hand sliding under the boy's abdomen, pulling him upwards, smacking his buttocks with his other gloved hand. Master holds him there and spanks the reddened flesh over and over again, giving

the boy a much needed break, for what seems like ten minutes - Master repeatedly spanks the boy's ass. A new sensation shoots through the boy's aching body. Master now slapping his ass with two leather gloves now, and in between the stripes on his sore ass, slaps the boy's bound, cum laden, boiling balls. At first, he gently slaps the boy's balls, but each time the smack on his ass is harder and the slap on his balls more intense. Boy does not know which hurts more, his ass or his balls.

Soon it does not matter as the stinging pain on his balls totally replaces the pain on his ass. Master continues this ritual for many minutes, but how can this be, the boy thinks, he must be tiring. The boy is right. Master removes his hand from the boy's abs, stands up to stretch and then grabs a yellow hankie and wipes the sweat from his forehead and chest, finally forcing the boy to the floor, sliding his feet off the bed. He begins to stroke his fatigued body -- boy's head once again resting on Master's boot. Master takes the sweat laden yellow hankie and ties it around the boy's neck like he is a dog. What is that for, the boy mumbles. He soon finds out.

The boy is drenched with sweat, coating Master's gloved hands as he wipes the boys torso, which he then forces into the boy's mouth, the salty sweat slaking the boy's thirst just a little. Master's gloved hand pulls the top of the boy's mouth upwards, the other hand grapping his armpit, forcing boy to kneel before him,

pushing his face into His black pubic hair. Master's cock is rubbing against the side of the boy's face, strings of precum cooling him slightly, the heady scent of Master's crotch making him hotter for this sadistic fucker with no voice. Master's gloved hand slides between the boy's lips once again, this time making room for Master's godly cock, that begins to squirt a strong and steady stream of sweet manpiss. Boy's cock is even harder, the veins are ready to pop, his nuts ready to explode, as Master fills his body with His juice, claiming the boy as his own. Some of the brew begins to dribble from the sides of the boy's mouth as he starts to gag - no longer able to keep up with the forcefull stream, now worrying what Master will do for letting his piss fall to the floor. When the flow stops, Master removes his cock, slap the boy's face repeatedly with his beautiful cock and then forces his face onto the floor to lick the spilt urine. Boy loves this sadistic Master.

Master snaps his fingers, getting the attention of the boy, pointing to the bed. The boy is not sure what he should do, so Master goes over and pats his hand on the pillow, sliding his hand down the length of the bed. The boy gets up to walk to the bed, but bam, the Master kicks him on his ass so strongly that the boy falls over

onto the floor. Master walks over and slaps the boy repeatedly across the face with his leather gloves. Boy is so humiliated, his face more flushed from forgetting the only rule of the house that Master had given him, than from the stinging slap of the gloves. Master seems to be very mad with the boy, his face flushed red and

veins appearing on his forehead. He points to His boots and motions for the boy to once again do push ups on his boot. The boy says out loud, even though the Master cannot hear him, 'Master, the boy cannot do any more, please SIR.' Boy knows it is useless so he begins the push ups again, kissing Master's boots, now crying from the humiliation and the combination of all the pain surging through his body, his tired arms, burning ass, and still stinging balls. Master slaps the boy's head and pulls his head up, wiping his tears with a leather glove which he then shoves down the boy's parched throat before forcing his head on Master's boots.

Boy begins the push ups and once he does ten, Master holds his body steady with his left arm and begins slapping the boys back with the leather glove, this time really pelting the boy, a sensation akin to that of a deerskin flogger but without the thud. After a few minutes, Master again forces the boy to do more push ups. Tears stream down the boy's face as he tries to force himself up, but he cannot and falls to the floor, his face smacking Master's boot. Master is relentless and continues to assault the boy's back, moving down to his ass, raising his hand high to really beat him, slowly moving down to his very sensitive inner thighs. The boy is sobbing now, embarrassed to be crying, so tired he is confused, not even knowing where the pain is coming from anymore, it is just pain bolting through his body.

Does this man not get tired?, the boy thinks to himself, wondering how much longer he will continue. The boy dares to turn his head to see Master's cock rock hard - dripping a long string of precum. Fuck, sadistic bastard is getting off on this discipine, the boy moans, licking the tears flowing down his fu manchu into his mouth.

The boy's daring act merits a swift response from the Master. He kicks the boys ass repeatedly and then drags him by his hands to throw him against the bed's foot board. He winks at the boy and then makes a long sadistic laugh, shaking his hard cock at the confused boy, teasing him by letting a string of cum hit the boy's sweat laden face. Crazy fucker sends mixed messages to confuse the boy, a nice wink with a warm smile on his face followed by a eerie sadistic laugh and an erotic display of his powerful cock.

Master takes two gray hankies to tie the boys hands to the bed posts. He then ties two more gray hankies together and binds the boy's feet together. The boy can only imagine what the Hankie Master will do next. This Master must have hankie and leather glove fetishes - that is all he has used to torment the boy tonight. The boy is impressed that this sadist can dish out so much pain, cause him so much humiliation, that he cried and began to fall into a state of confusion -- all with leather gloves and hankies. The boy notices that the Master has put a stack of hankies on the crude table -- all black, gray, yellow and blue. Few leathermen do the hankie codes anymore - many saying that real leathermen do not use such codes - but this man is a real leatherman and He has used that coding system unlike any other man in the boy's leather history. The boy realizes that He has followed the code all evening and is elated to see the blue hankies - Master is going to fuck his butthole with his godly cock - at least he hopes so.

Master has gone over to the table to write a note which he shoves in front of the boy's face: 'Boy, you have made my cock hard. Good boy. You have also broken the one rule of this cabin. Bad boy. Therefore, no blue hankie for you. SIR.'

'Oh, man,' the boy moans through the glove, as he lowers his head in shame, watching his Master take the the blue hankies, wipe the boy's face with them, and then carry them over to the cabinet. 'Fuck,' the boy trys to scream through the glove. 'No, Master, please.' Boy is so upset for breaking the rule - in his agony he also realizes that Master's cock is still rock hard. Bastard loves the control, discipline and punishment. When will he get off tonight? How will he feed the boy with his cum? Will he?

Master finally returns with a yellow hankie stuffed into a glass. He also brings over a gallon of water. What the hell is this? The Man with no voice shoves his gloved hand into the boy's mouth, forcing the boys chin down and begins to pour the gallon of water down his gullet. The boy gulps and gulps the water, but he cannot keep up the flow, so master slows the flow down until a steady trickle enters the boys mouth until the jug is empty. He goes over to get another gallon and again fills the boy's insides with water - the boy's belly is distended and beginning to ache with fullness. Boy knows what he is doing, the boy will soon have to piss like a race horse and how can he do that if he is tied up to the damn bed? Master makes his eerie laugh again and slaps the boy with his rigid cock before shoving a milk crate under the boy's ass. He picks up the glass and shoves the glass over his cock and balls, before placing it on the floor. He wants me to piss in this glass and then make me drink it, kinky fucker. Boy wonders how he will guide the piss into the glass?

Master kneels in front of the boy and begins to tweak the boys perky tits with his gloved hands. He must have gotten more gloves from the cabinet, the boy wondering what else is in his BDSM cabinent? These black leather gloves are different. There is some kind of sandpaper coating on the palm area, which the master uses to make painful abrasions on his nips. Boy has never seen these before - did he have someone make them for him. What a glove fetish Master has! Master alternates between clutching the nips between his fingers and pulling them as hard as he can, to making the abrasions followed by a beating with another pair of leather gloves. After a couple minutes of this torment, Master adds another ingredient, he sucks on the pained nips and then bites the nips with his teeth, pulling them outwards making the boy tremble in pain. The combination of torments is racking the boy's senses and he begins to wiggle on the milk crate, barely able to take Master's bite. But of course, Master continues, this time merely flogging his chest with those abrasive gloves which give a totally different sensation. The boy's skin is getting raw. His fingers tweak the nips again, His mouths sucks on the aching aureoles, and finally He bites into his chest, He must have broken the flesh, pulling on his whole pec, sucking on it, finally letting it go only to bite the nips once again.

Boy's cock is hard now, twitching every time Master pulls and bites his nips, ready to shoot a load, except for the fact that he now needs to piss - damn it, a piss hard on. Master does not relent as He starts slapping the pulsing boycock with the leather gloves, harder and harder, while his mouth works the nips. Master's knee is now pressing against the boy's balls, so many sensations shooting through the boy's body and on top of it all, he has to piss, 'Please Master,' he begins to moan.

Master stands to slap the boys face with his hard cock for a few seconds, before he replaces his godly mancock with those gloves, slapping him hard, stinging his face, before he drops to place his knee in the boy's crotch to start the methodical process all over again. He is driving the boy over the edge. His bursting balls are being crushed with his knee, his rigid cock, almost blue, stinging with pain with a whipping from abrasive glove, his nips being sucked, chewed, pulled on and finally bitten and extended as far as they can possibly go. Tears well up to his eyes as he moans and groans, needing to piss, needing to unload his balls, wanting to suck Master's cock, loving the panoply of pain rocking his body. The boy is fearful, he knows he can't piss on Master. Can he possibly hold it any longer?

Master stops and stands. Shoves his gloved hand into the boys sore mouth again to ram his cock deep inside to fill him with more brew. 'Please Master,' he tries to scream through the gurgling piss. The boy cannot take anymore fluids, he has to piss and dare not spray his Master. The stream stops, Master slaps his face again, repeatedly with his rigid cock oozing precum. He shoves the spit soaked glove into boy's mouth and then assaults the boy cock again with that damn glove. The boy is sobbing now, 'Get out of the way, Master, I can't hold it anymore,' he moans repeatedly, first softly and then louder and louder through the glove. The man with no voice justs laughs and slaps the boycock and begins the assault on the aching nips once again. Even though the boy is tired, sore all over, beaten on most of his body, and this is certainly not from the most intense scene of his life, he knows that he is entering subspace. The slow, steady and increasing application of pain, the boy's total submission, the humiliation and fear that plagued his mind all evening; all of this added together is pushing the boy over the edge and into that blissful state where all pain becomes pleasurable. He is still in a state of confusion; wanting the psychological pain to end, pain he actually brings upon himself through his submission, yet still desiring the full attention of the Man with no voice, desperately wanting his beautiful mancock, hungry still for his painful touch, a touch that slowly becomes more pleasurable even though tears fill the boys eyes.

It happens. The boy's cock explodes shooting a torrent of piss on the boy's Master. The frightened boy trembles, fearing the wrath of his Master. He is so confused now to see Him laugh full heartedly before he begins to collect the boypiss with the large glass. So much piss streams from the boy that Master now collects the brew with the empty gallon jug. The stream finally ends. Master removes the leather glove from boy's mouth to let him lick the piss dripping down his torso and onto his hard cock. Master slaps the boy with his succulent cock a few times, shoves his gloved hand into his sore mouth to open it wide so he can drink his own piss. The boy drinks the brew, wishing it was his Master's - and then comes to the conclusion that this is the Master's brew - recycled - making the experience much more invigorating, causing his boycock to lengthen, hoping that Master will give the boy his cum soon.

Boy is suprized when Master begins to loosen the hankies that bind his feet together and to the bed posts. He points to bucket in the corner and orders the boy to crawl over. Master fills the bucket with water and drops his gloves inside. What is this crazy fucker doing now, is all he can think, hoping it will lead him along the pathway to bliss. It is simple. Master brings over another gallon of water and makes the boy drink every drop, even though the boy begs to let him stop, so full and distended is his stomach. Of course, this Master does not care. He kicks the boy over onto the floor and orders him to do sit ups. This is going to be true agony, a modified version of enema play, making the boy hold in his piss as he counts out sit ups. The boy begins, deciding to go slow, which makes Master happy as he reaches into the bucket for the gloves and begins to flog the boys back with the wet leather every time the boy returns to the upright position. Again, another sensation the boy had never felt before, one that is so pleasureable it makes his cock hard and his nips perky as he does the situps, each time awaiting the thwat of the wet gloves. When the boy can finally do no more, Master again forces his gloved hand into the boys mouth to ready him for another assualt of water, this time dumping the bucket of water into his mouth.

Master replaces the bucket with his cock and shoots just a small stream of his piss into the boy, the boy usually loving Master's piss but now so full he is almost ready to belch to empty his bursting innards. Master knows the boy is ready to shoot a hot stream of piss and so he moves behind the boy, this time to spank his ass with his bare hands. He loves the sight of the slight black and blue marks - all made with his gloves. As he spanks the boy, his cock lengthens every time he hears the boy moan. Master switches back to the wet leather gloves to plow into the burning ass, the boy pushing his buttocks out begging for more, his cock ready to shoot another stream of piss. On and on the thwat of the gloves assault the boy, making him delirious with such a small amount of pain. He cannot believe this, but it is true. Actually, the boy is almost embarrassed to think that gloves are getting him off and making him cry. But he knows in his heart of hearts this is not true, it is Master's power that is taking him, the gloves are just a conduit for his powerful energy that flows throughout his body.

Finally the boy cannot hold the piss any longer. He groans, and then yells as a forceful stream of piss shoots against the wall. Master quickly jumps in front of the boy to catch the brew with the bucket, laughing, stroking his cock with his other hand, loving the look of relief in the boy's face as the bucket fills with boypiss.

As the last draught of piss enters the bucket, the boy reaches down to grab his aching balls. Master permits him to do so for just a short while, before forcing him to his knees to finally fuck his face and give the boy what he has longed for all evening. Master's cock has been hard all night long so it does not take long for his big balls, slapping against the boy's chin, to finally relinquish the powerful juice that flows through the man's beautiful shaft to squirt into the boy's hungry mouth. The boy is ecstatic to carry the Man's seed deep inside himself, to lick the remaining dribbles of cum from the head of his cock, wishing he could worship this cock all weekend long.

The boy's cock is ready to shoot, but Master has not given him permission to do so, 'Please, Master, my balls are bursting.' What's the use in begging, Master cannot hear me? Master picks up the bucket of piss and points to the door, kicking the boy's red ass to get him moving.

When Master opens the door the morning sun blinds the boy's eyes. Boy is shocked to discover that they have been working all night long. Master slaps the boys ass to make him crawl out into the morning mist. After he crawls a few feet, Master nudges the boy telling him to stop and again points to his boots. No complaining this time. The boy belongs at this Man's feet, he wants to lick his boots forever, so posssesd is he with the Master's power.

Master puts the bucket of piss down, pulls the boy's chin up - the boy's mouth nearly touching Master's cock that is again beginning to get hard. Boy has known men who could shoot seven loads into him in one evening, one load after another, so the boy is not suprized to see his mancock coming back to life. Master puts the boy's hand on his boycock and orders him to stroke it, and then points from the head of the boycock to his boot. Ah, Master wants the boy's cum on his boot. He is making another gesture, and the boy finally determines that Master wants him to wait for his command before unloading his balls. Master surely is all about control and discipline. Boy begins to stroke his cock, as Master once again shoves his cock between the boy's lips. This time Master uses the boy, slowly until his cock gets hard, and then faster and harder, forcing his manmeat completely into the boy's mouth, His pubic hairs itching boy's nose. Boy is beating his cock furiously now, awaiting Master's groan and another deposit of His jism, but the boy cannot wait much longer - he is ready to shoot and points to his cock to inform the Master.

Master roughly fucks the boy's face as he reaches down to grab the handle of the piss bucket which he pulls up and gets ready to dump. Boy cannot see this, and is totally surprised when he finally grunts and groans, to have a bucket of piss dumped atop his head, making the piss pig lick his lips and shoot his cum doubly hard, right onto Master's boot. The sight of the piss cascading down the boy's body, the cum upon his boot, as well as the look of ecstatic pleasure in the boy's eyes makes Master grunt and groan, pushing him over the edge to shoot another load of sweet cum into boy's mouth. Master lets his cock soften in the boy's mouth before pulling it out, slapping boy's face, and pointing to the boycum on his boots. Boy gladly kisses Master's boot once again and sucks up his boycum, so thrilled to find a Master who can skillfully control and discipline this sometimes irasciable boy.

Master orders the boy into the house and has him dress as he writes a note to the boy:

Good, boy. If you desire to be collared and kiss my boots and gloves once again, call this number and leave a message. I will place a leather glove and a fistful of hankies in your back right pocket for you to remember this night. SIR.'

Thank you again, SIR, for giving this boy a night to remember and for showing him how to use the most simple tools of the trade: gloves and hankies. Boy wants to kiss your gloved hands and boots again if Master so desires.

Thank You, SIR!

_____________________________

Read the Leatherman's Handbook to learn about hankie codes and how to safely and sanely live your life in leather, kink and fetishes.

 

Haroli

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