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Be Careful - Part 2 of 3.
Careful what you write about. They may think that’s what you like.
• Just getting started.
The shower had soothed my nerves and clenched my soul. I knew exactly what I needed — and wanted — to do with Stryker. When I returned, the twenty-five-year-old boy sat on a barstool at the kitchen island, waiting dutifully for me. His glinting puppy-dog eyes were as wide as the smile on his face. The fresh coffee and turkey sandwich were ready and waiting for me, as ordered.
“There you go, Master Steel. Your food is — WOW… Holy fuck, sir!… WOOF.”
John’s mouth fell open at the sight of me. I had changed outfits, opting for a half-unbuttoned, white, short-sleeve office shirt over an X-harness with flat chrome studs. I had leather belts strapped around my upper arms, constricting my biceps tightly. Around my left wrist, I had strapped a wide leather band. All in all, it was an excellent, sophisticated ‘Master’ look.
However, Stryker was interested in something other than my top. His gaze had instantly dropped to my pants. The thick leather jeans had a full back-to-front zipper and a belt with black studs. My formidable nine-inch porn star dick bulged against the tight crotch. The polished, tall, square-toed Wesco harness boots and leather baseball cap completed the stern look. It made the boy shiver in anticipation.
As John swiveled the barstool around to take a better look at me, he accidentally slid off it, dropping to the floor and landing right between my boots. He hadn’t meant to do that, but I made use of the situation nonetheless.
“Good boy!” I said derisively. “While you’re down there — LICK MY FUCKING BOOTS CLEAN, BOY!” I barked the demand meanly.
I could see fear had gripped Stryker’s balls, and it was squeezing them hard. The boy was conflicted as fuck. On one hand, he desperately wanted me, his favorite leather-wearing porn star, to take his ass. On the other hand, it was clear this whole domination shit was actually new to him. John had told me so, but seeing it reflected on his face still came as a bit of a surprise to me.
• Breaking prudence.
“GOD DAMN, SON! Don’t give me that look! This is just a bit of foreplay… Lick those fucking boots, Stryker, or I’ll kick you in the balls with them! DO IT! So I can do you, bitch!”
Stryker, however, did not react. I leaned in, my voice dropping into a dangerous snarl. “I told you to listen to my commands — and then react accordingly. You don’t get to do whatever you want, bitch. I’m in control here! You’d do well to remember that!”
And suddenly, as if a light flicked on in that dirty brain of Stryker-J, he smiled up at me. The dude instantly bent over, dropping to his hands and knees between my feet with his ass pointed proudly into the air. His tongue started slobbering both boots, coating the black hide with plenty of spit.
“Good boy, Stryker. I knew you’d get there in the end,” I said praisingly. However, the way this guy could flip-flop between being scared shitless and acting like a total slut stunned me.
“Thank you, Sir,” he muttered between swipes of his tongue and grunts of pleasure.
“Johnny?” I asked, puzzled. “Can you sit up for a moment?”
“Sir, yes, Sir,” Stryker said, a little out of breath with relief as he straightened up.
“How come one moment you’re glaring up angrily at me, and the next you’re on the floor like a slut? I don’t get you.”
Stryker smiled up at me. “Sir? Permission to talk freely?”
“Sure, son.”
“Darek Steel… It’s just that I didn’t understand what you would do to me. That frightened me. It scared me a lot, actually! I’ve never been with a dominant guy like you. Look at you… You’re twice my size. And you’re an actual fucking porn star,” John sighed, letting his eyes roam over my outfit. He continued, his gaze locking onto my crotch, “Even that cock is much wider than I’m used to.”
“But… Umm… Well, when you said, ‘I’m in control here! You’d do well to remember that!’ I finally understood you. I wrote those lines in my first-ever domination story. I think you want to use my own stories to teach me a lesson. Am I right, Steel?”
“Ha, you’re fuck’n right, son! This is all an act to me — but our sex will be real, Stryker! I’m going to screw your brains out! However, you should be much more careful about what you write online. People might expect you to have experience in sodomy, buggery, and raw leather sex,” I warned the kid. He clearly got the message.
“And don’t worry about my size. I’ll lube you up good before I hang this thing in your ass and fuck your brains out. I’ve never met a guy I couldn’t nail to the wall. Wanna play with it?” I asked huskily, stroking the nine inches of man-meat over my biker jeans.
I smirked darkly at the cute, athletic twink, making a mocking, thoughtful gesture by stroking my chin.
“Or do I truly need to chloroform you and rape your ass anyway?” I said gruffly, but with a dirty smile that defused the situation. “Never mind! I’ll fuck you anyway, John. One way or another. And that might hurt a little at first… it might even be a lot rougher than you’re used to. But first, I want to see what I have to work with. Get up!” I said harshly as I hauled Stryker-J off his knees.
• Undressing and warming up.
Taking half a step forward, I grabbed the boy by the collar of my leather biker jacket and hauled him in close. I tilted my head and planted my lips on his, softly kissing him while my hand found the small of his back, stroking the cool, black hide. “Shit, you look so hot in that jacket, Stryker… but take it off, son — it’s mine! In fact, STRIP! Sneakers and all,” I commanded hotly.
“Thank you, sir. I love this jacket of yours. It makes me feel… umm… well… tough. Thank you for letting me try it on, Darek,” Stryker whispered lovingly, leaning forward to claim another kiss.
We smooched for real now, John’s arms hooking around my back as I pressed a palm against the back of his blond head. My tongue explored his mouth, met by his own as he tried to play a desperate game of tonsil hockey with me. While our mouths were busy, my hand moved down to unbutton his baggy cargo shorts, and they hit the floor in an instant.
“Ha… bonus points for wearing a jockstrap, Stryker,” I grinned. My middle finger found its way behind him, pressing firmly against the center of his rosebud. After exploring the tight entrance for a bit, I teased it until it yielded, then withdrew. I shoved a few fingers into John’s mouth, ordering him to make them good and wet. The dude didn’t complain; why would he? An actual professional porn star was about to rail his boy-cunt. A moment later, two slick fingers slid back into him with relative ease, making Stryker-J moan and groan as the heavy-handed penetration stretched him wide.
As I worked him, the boy carefully unbuttoned my office shirt the rest of the way, exposing the harness beneath. He slid a hand under the leather straps, his eyes traveling over my massive chest before he handed me my biker jacket back. He watched eagerly as I pulled it on; when I flicked up the collar, I saw him shiver again. He clearly had a thing for the full-leather look.
“Shit, you do look hot, sir… I love your leather gear. But… umm… why did you shave your beard? I mean — I like the fresh look on you… But doesn’t that interfere with your Master image? You look so much younger now. I love it, though. But… well… how can I say this? Are you sure you want me? You normally fuck older guys… I’m only twenty-five,” Stryker groaned, his voice a mix of heat and worry. He lovingly stroked my shaved face, his dick fully erect and stretching the front of his jockstrap to the breaking point.
“Glad you noticed, son. But you mistake my movies for what I actually like. I’m into young guys — even ones younger than you. As for the new look, I decided to rebel against the producers. I’d much rather work with a younger guy like you, Stryker, and make some kinky movies with a proper storyline. Shall we go see what the wardrobe department left for you to wear?” I asked.
“What? — Am I supposed to wear an outfit like yours? Really? I’d love that — My first real leather sex!” Stryker’s excitement was infectious. My hand remained firmly planted on his ass as we walked arm in arm from the kitchen toward the master bedroom.
I couldn’t help myself; the high school bully in me was still alive and well at thirty-seven. I bumped my hip hard against his, maliciously shoving him to the side and making the twenty-five-year-old trip.
I ignored his sharp scream of shock as John landed face-down over the armrest of the brown leather couch — exactly where I wanted him. My leather jeans creaked as I squatted behind his exposed ass, my hands wrenching his cheeks apart so my tongue could taste his sweet pink hole. Fuck, the scent of him was too satisfying to ignore. I pinned him down with a hand on his back, letting my spit drip over his back door.
“Ooh… fuck… yeah! That feels really nice, sir. Thank you, sir,” he moaned, wriggling uncontrollably as he felt me go down on him.
“Good boy. Tight ass, but not for long. I love that,” I muttered between swipes. I rimmed him until I felt his sphincter finally relax, then I stood up and spat down his crack.
The streak of drool slid down the chute where my fingers worked it deep inside. One, then two. Stryker cringed slightly as he took the depth, but I slowly replaced them with a thick thumb, burying it all the way. I pumped it against his prostate to warm him up, knowing my dick would do much worse to him once it took over. With my free hand, I hooked my fingers around his lovely cock, pulling his seven-inch rod out of the jockstrap and jerking him off in rhythm with the thumbing of his hole.
• Not a pro, but no amature either.
The moans the boy made came straight out of a porn movie. He overdid it a bit, though, performing for a camera that wasn’t there. Well, maybe the Scouts we saw earlier would try to record our intimate scene, but that was a problem for later.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch. This is NOT a porn movie. Real men don’t grunt like that — only pigs do!” I said, smacking his ass much meaner than I’d intended to.
“Ooowww! That hurts, man!” Stryker screamed nervously.
“Yes, I know. But my dick is going to harm you much worse if you don’t listen to what I’m saying,” I warned.
“Grumpff — Sir… yes, Sir,” he muttered disagreeably, clenching his bunghole tight in fear.
At this point, I didn’t care; I was ready to pop a load inside Stryker. I got up and unzipped, ripping the fly open from the front, all the way past my balls to the back. I grabbed John’s hips and rocketed forward.
As my steely cockhead pressed against the clenched cunt, the boy looked over his shoulder at me. He had tears of shock in his eyes.
“Relax, son, or it’ll actually hurt,” I sternly warned him. “Let me in there. That’s it… open the fuck-chute. Let’s do this, Stryker! I’m going to screw you right here, right NOW!”
Predictably, I spotted a few Scouts out of the corner of my eye. They had indeed snuck up to the cabin’s living room window, sneakily eyeing us fuck from outdoors. The dirty voyeur fucks! But I’d give them a show they’d remember. I don’t think John knew — or needed to know — that. He couldn’t have seen them; only his ass and flailing legs were visible from their location in the bushes under the living room window.
John pushed his tensed-up face into the sofa, expecting the worst. He grabbed the seam between two cushions with his fists, hanging on for dear life, his frame trembling. He took a deep breath as he felt me slightly increase the pressure. Apparently, I acted differently than he’d expected. I surely wasn’t going to rape the bitch, hammering my cock balls-deep inside in one go. I liked him way too much for that already.
And this wasn’t one of my regular brutal movie shoots, either. The men I nailed on camera were trained professionals, or they at least pre-stretched their assholes, lubing them for me to enter with extreme force. But this time, I’d take it much slower; the boy had warned me, after all. However, I was going to seed him — that much wasn’t up for discussion at this point. Slowly, I let my cockhead grind between his buttocks.
He moaned, “Shit… ooh… that’s so hot… ahh… oh, God.”
“Don’t worry, son… you’re doing great,” I said praisingly, as I felt my sizable glans slide past the slicked-up, warm anus.
• Pound town, with an audience.
I can’t lie — John definitely impressed me. As amateur fan-boys go, he knew what he liked and exactly how to please me. His asscrack took my weight well enough, but I wasn’t finished; I wanted all the way in there. I raised myself off him just enough to spit into my hand and rub the moisture over my drooling cockhead. Stars popped in front of my eyes as the realization hit me like a physical blow: I was really about to fuck a guy raw I’d never even met before.
Usually, I’d grill a hookup with all kinds of questions first, chatting for days to build the horny anticipation. Getting the fan-boy checked out at a local clinic, just to be absolutely safe. But somehow, it felt as if I’d known Stryker for years. As if he were a younger brother I was meant to mentor. I wanted to teach him every trick I’d learned over my years as an adult entertainer.
“Baby?” I asked, pressing my leather-clad chest against his strong back. I ground my trembling dick through the boy’s crack, pushing my leather jeans against the inside of his legs to pin him over the sofa’s armrest. I could tell Stryker-J liked this — liked it very much.
“Where do you stand on condoms, John? Can I fuck you raw… or do I need to put on a spunk bag?”
“Ha…” John laughed, glancing over his shoulder. “That’s up to you, Steel… if your man doesn’t mind. But don’t you have to save your jizz for tomorrow’s shoot? However, if you’re willing to take the risk… I’ve been tested regularly. It’s all clear. Sir… so go for it. But… TAKE IT EASY, Darek Steel! Please?” he sighed worriedly.
Well, he didn’t have to tell me twice. With my chest still crushed against his back, I lifted my hips and hooked a leather-clad arm around his neck. With my head next to his, my well-trained cock found the twink’s soft entry point by instinct. The head slid in as I increased the pressure, and John let out another deep sigh, but anything beyond the first few inches wasn’t going to fit easily.
“Oww… mmmph… aargh… pfff… damn… oww… stop! Too big… ohh,” Stryker-J puffed and grunted.
I let my cockhead sit inside the tight tunnel, allowing the boy to adjust to the girth. I nibbled his earlobe, grunting nasty, distracting words into his ear. I told him how much I’d looked forward to this. I even explained that my husband, Rick Payne, would be arriving later that afternoon, hotly suggesting we might try a leather threesome if he was up for it.
John ‘Stryker’ Jenkins looked surprised and excited at the same time. My words had the desired effect; by the time I was done seducing his mind, all nine inches of my fat rod had worked their way inside. I was dicking the kid down balls-deep.
I raised myself up, planting one hand on his hip and the other on the side of his head, pinning his face rather meanly to the leather sofa. I fucked the kid raw, pumping him in slow, deliberate strokes at first, though I wasn’t about to hold back for long. I started pounding his butt, letting my leather-clad thighs drum loudly against his sweaty cheeks. I pulled back softly before slamming forward with a mean force. Harder and harder I went, smacking my balls against his.
After the inevitable initial shock, Stryker recovered quickly. Even with just my spit for lube, his ass felt hot and slick. I could see the tiny veins around his rosebud starting to glow red.
“The kid might be gay, but he needs to get laid way more often,” I thought with glee. He was audibly enjoying himself, though.
“Aww… yes… fuck me, sir! Ohh… oww… this hurts so nicely… that is such a wide load,” he cried, punching the cushions with a fist.
I glanced over at the front window. The three older Scouts were in total shock, eyes popping and mouths agape. Their faces were crimson, arms buried deep inside their khaki cargo shorts as they frantically jerked off to the explicit burlesque show inside. I smiled and decided to up the ante, using my vocal skills to impress the young men outside.
“Take it, bitch… I’m going to seed you! Do you like my big cock? You take it well!” I growled adoringly, loud enough for the voyeurs to hear. I wasn’t lying; Stryker-J’s tight ass was to die for. His dirty mind was more than a match for his nasty lovemaking skills.
I wished Rick were here already; he would love to tear this guy a new one. Payne honored his name, though I’d never seen him do permanent damage even with his oversized ten-inch black horse-cock. Still, he’d need to put on the kid gloves with Stryker. John was easily spooked and quite a defiant little shit with a hankering for leather sex — or maybe just sex while dressed in leather. I hadn’t figured that part out yet, but I would.
By now, I was railing his boy-cunt so meanly I nearly lost my grip. His smooth, hairless bubble butt felt incredible against my dick. The kid made all the right sounds in all the right places. He knew exactly how to turn me on — and, evidently, he also knew how to turn me off.
• Full stop for a second take.
Just as I was about to seed the fucker, he snapped his fingers in my face and twisted his torso to the side. “Stop it, Darek!” he called out.
“What?” I asked, stupefied. A cold spike of fear hit me, thinking I’d actually hurt him for real.
“Can I grab my phone? I want you to film us having sex… I want to have something to remember you by, Steel,” he panted.
“Damn, son… I was nearly there,” I grumbled.
“Really? But we only just started… what kind of porn star are you?”
“Ha… I should beat the shit out of you for that remark. I’ll dump your naked carcass outside and tie you up in the woods for the Scouts to find and abuse,” I threatened, throwing a nasty look toward the window. The boys outside ducked instantly, vanishing into the bushes beneath the sill.
“Hmm? Sounds like fun… but could you grab my phone first? It’s in my cargo pants,” John countered.
Stryker-J looked up at me with those puppy-dog eyes, and I couldn’t help but grin. “Sure thing, sweetheart. But why don’t I set up the professional cameras? We can make your own porn!”
“Hell, NO! That’s taking it too far!”
“You sure? Your ass is very photogenic, Johnny. If you’re ever looking for some extra cash, call Rick. He could use a sweet guy like you any day,” I said, giving his ass cheek a firm love-tap.
When John looked at me incredulously, I doubled down. “I mean it, John. You’d do great in the industry. Very fuckable, nicely verbal, and pleasing to the eye.”
“Thanks… I guess. But let’s keep it between us for now, Darek. I’ll share it with you, but I don’t want to find it online! Hear me, Steel?” he called out as I reached for his phone.
“Loud and clear. Can I show it to Rick, though?”
“Mmmph — fine,” Stryker muttered, sounding resigned. He probably realized by now that Rick and I didn’t keep secrets from each other.
“Okay, son… now, let’s see what the wardrobe department left for you,” I said.
“Really? Shu… sure? I’d… I’d love to,” Stryker-J stuttered. He’d clearly realized I was about to suit him up in leather. The kinky, rugged look obviously excited him, yet it was evident he’d never experienced it firsthand. This insight into his psyche was all I needed.
• A quick relief.
Dressing a guy up, making him submit, and teaching him exactly how to behave was my specialty. Once he was truly mine, then I would really go hog-wild on his ass. Stryker-J wrote about this life as if he knew it firsthand, but we both knew the truth now. I was going to remedy his lack of experience and would enjoy every second of it.
We walked toward the master bedroom at the front of the cabin, but I detoured toward the porch. “Wait up, John… I need to piss!” I grinned naughtily as I threw open the front door. “Ooh… yeah… that’s how you water the plants,” I grunted, pissing straight off the deck into the bushes. Three Scouts were kneeling there, caught like deer in the headlights with their dicks out. I’d known the peeping Toms had been watching us the whole time.
Stryker moved up beside me to see what I was looking at. “Ha, fancy that! I didn’t know the bushes around here could talk. Having fun, boys? Get the hell out of here, or this dude will rape you!” Stryker-J sneered.
“I’d like to see him try,” the bravest of the three Scouts called back defiantly.
“Nah… let ’em watch, John! Their asses are getting stuffed tonight anyway. I’ve got some oversexed biker mates coming over later — they’ll take care of them,” I called out.
“Aren’t they a bit young for that?” Stryker asked with a grin.
“Nope. Those boys have been getting fucked by their Scout leaders all week. They’re ready to earn their ‘ass-fucking’ and ‘cum-eating’ patches,” I barked. We watched the piss-drenched teens disappear into the treeline in a hurry, especially after Stryker joined in and publicly relieved himself over the bushes, too. I was already a bad influence on the guy.
When I finally led John into the master bedroom, his mouth fell open. The large bed was covered in heavy leather comforters. A wooden X-cross stood bolted in one corner, with a free-standing sling occupying the other. The walls were covered in vulgar, bisexual pornographic images, and an array of whips, paddles, cuffs, and massive dildos cluttered the bedside table.
Empty whiskey, beer, and used lube bottles littered the dresser. Ceiling-mounted cameras and professional lighting had already been rigged. The only things that looked out of place were my open suitcases and duffel bags. The room was staged for the movie’s opening scene — a rough encounter between an abusive logging boss and an unwilling local woman.
“Are you staying in here?” John asked, spotting my gear.
“Sure. We rented the place; might as well sleep in the best room. In fact, Rick and I will be here all next week. Wish you could join us,” I said hopefully.
“Good thing I have an extra-long weekend, then,” Stryker grinned, his eyes dark and dirty.
• Dressed to impress.
I rolled a heavy, professional trunk next to the leather-covered blanket chest. It was a wardrobe department case, filled to the brim with everything the actors needed to suit up for their scenes tomorrow.
I hauled out a pair of laced chaps, a biker vest, a boy chest harness, and a choker with a leash on a D-ring, tossing them onto the California King. The bed was massive enough to sleep three with ease.
John’s eyes lit up. He had never seen this much leather gear in his life.
John had already grabbed the chaps and was trying to shimmy into them, but after he snapped the buttons, he’d twisted them the wrong way around.
“The snaps go at the front, silly,” I called out, laughing.
“I fucking know that, asshole! How am I going to cinch the laces tight by myself? I’m not stupid, you know, Steel!” he sneered, though there was no real heat in it. Stryker exhaled and pulled the leather laces extra tight over his pelvis, unsnapping the chaps and fastening them properly at the front. I raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised by his efficiency.
“Here… let me help you with the zips,” I said, squatting down in front of him. Instinctively, he moved his hands to cover his cock and balls. I smacked them away.
“Dude… really? Don’t be prudish!”
As I zipped the inside seams of the chaps up, my hand ‘accidentally’ brushed against his limp seven inches. It reacted instantly, springing back to life. I moved around him on my knees, cinching the side laces tight while kissing his ass cheeks and stroking his balls, deliberately winding him up.
John threw on the harness and the skimpy biker vest. Enjoying the smell, texture, and weight of the leathers. I fastened the choker and leash around his neck before adding a pair of leather cuffs to his wrists. As I stood back to admire the view, I remembered the studded cockstrap. I grabbed him firmly by the root and pushed him backward toward the sling.
“Fuck… that’s a hell of a look on you, Stryker,” I said, fastening the last snaps around his dick. “Good enough to eat.”
“I don’t mind if you do, sir,” John whispered hopefully. He stroked his dick lightly, looking like he expected to be reprimanded for even making a suggestion to his Master. Instead, his cock vanished into my mouth. My head started to bob, and the boy began to scream in pleasure.
“Ooh… shit… yeah! Arghh… fuck, no… slow down! Or I’ll lose it… I want this to last, Steel… umm, sir!”
I grinned naughtily as I stood back up and pushed Stryker-J wordlessly into the sling. I swiftly hooked his bare feet into the stirrups at the front and leaned over him to clip his wrist cuffs to the chains at the back. I pulled his ass right over the edge of the leather, spraying a generous amount of numbing lube between his legs and over my own cock.
He was in for it now, and he knew it. He was tied up with nowhere to go, a realization that seemed to hit him all at once.
“Can I trust you, Darek?” he whispered softly. “This is all so new to me. It looks fucking great… but shit, man.” He sighed, the weight of the moment finally settling in.
• Keep rolling tape.
I took out Stryker’s phone and started to film us. I swallowed his manhood, sucking the lovely boy-toy down while licking his seven-inch shaft and hairless balls. I made sure to show the camera John’s reaction to the blowjob. After fingering the lube inside, I took off my leather baseball cap, hooking it back-to-front over Stryker’s blond locks.
I took a snapshot from the side as my tongue obscenely penetrated his mouth, making sounds you usually only hear me produce in a porn movie. The boy reacted accordingly, begging me to fuck him hard — to seed his ass and rape his holes. He wanted my porn star cock to take his anal virginity. ‘Well, a virgin John certainly was not.’
I filmed how my dick assaulted Stryker-J, roughly ripping Johnny’s ass open. I didn’t hold back this time, even though I wasn’t sure if this was what the kid had intended me to do to him. After placing my cock against the back door, I slammed it meanly and mercilessly inside, acting as if I was raping the twink on camera.
I viciously laughed at Stryker as he started to pretend to cry and scream, contorting his facial expressions once the camera phone was pointed at him. The onslaught went on for a couple of minutes, and the boy didn’t look all that happy. Yet the sounds he made kept egging me on.
I briefly stopped filming to check if he was doing okay. I was nailing him as if he were a pro. He smiled at me, though. I grinned back and kissed him.
“Well done, kid! — I must say, you take me much better than I had expected,” I muttered hornily. I had been enjoying this harsh fuck.
“Yeah… as you said, sir — it’s rough and a little hard to take. But I could get used to sex dressed like this. But shit. That cock of yours really is too wide to be allowed,” panted Stryker-J with a cringe on his face. I was still gliding in and out, but at a much steadier pace.
After a while of me pumping the boy’s prostate, John hornily suggested, “Why don’t you threaten me with breeding my ass on-camera? That should be a nice ending to this scene,” panted Stryker hotly. The boy really knew how he liked his porn movies. Apart from being an actor, he seemed to want to direct as well.
• Getting freaky with it.
“Shit, yeah — that sounds hot! But can I actually cum inside?” I asked John, although I already knew his answer. Stryker really was a little piglet, and that turned me on even more. As if seeing him in this much gear wasn’t enough to send me over the edge anyway.
“I insist, sir! I’m not particularly eager to mess up these cool leathers, though — they feel so fucking nice. I feel a little stupid now. I should have bought my gear years ago, even if it’s just a jacket like yours! I love it.”
“Never mind that, Johnny. These clothes still look too clean anyway, and the other actors won’t mind. This look suits you, though, son. If you stick around for the shoot tomorrow, I can let you have some of them.”“Really? — But… hmm, what would I have to do? I mean, I don’t want to be in front of the camera,” said Stryker.
“Aww?… Okay. You can be my personal fluffer. Maybe help Rick and the Director make this the best fuckin’ movie I’ve ever made.”
“Cool — It's a deal!” grunted Stryker as I buried my dick in his ass again and started to film the last part of this movie of ours.
It was a relatively short but heavy scene. I kept one hand on Johnny’s throat, filming the two of us as I threatened him face-to-face. My vicious verbal act actually scared the shit out of the boy, and he loved it! I was squeezing just hard enough to turn John’s face puce, making him actually sputter and flail in the sling while he begged me not to breed him.
He pleaded for me to stop raping him, yet my dick plowed him hard. But I could tell he was just acting his part. John was loving every power thrust I made. Slamming my leathers to his hips. My breathing and grunts got a heck of a lot dirtier. I was swearing at the top of my voice, terrorizing Stryker, telling him I was about to breed him with my poisonous biker seed. Stryker-J kept up the act with difficulty, actually trying to resist me by clenching his buttocks and squeezing my dick. I filmed every bit of it.
That kind of resistance turned me on even more. I’ve always enjoyed it when a guy struggles; it gives me a sense of ultimate power over him. You don’t get that in the industry, but the fans I fuck sometimes see that side of me. That usually did not end well for them, though. The harder those amateurs resist me, the worse it usually gets — for them, that is. I loved the brutality of it all.
Heck, I’ve sometimes grabbed the fan-boys as their struggles got out of hand. Making them pass out a little in a chokehold or with some Chloroform. That usually calms them right down. Stryker-J did not need that kind of treatment; he let me do my thing. As strong as the boy was, I was much too powerful for him anyway. They didn’t call me Steel for nothing. I was so fucking close to cumming that it actually hurt.
“Ohh… I’m about to bust my nut, give me that hole! I’ll seed you, bitch. Ohh… Aargh… here it comes — take it! Oww… Ahhh… Mmmpff… fuck! Yeah — take it. Submit to me, slut, you’re mine now! I will — Aargh… oh, shit,” I panted hard as I finally let go, seeding Stryker and his leather outfit.
The first shot of spunk landed on John’s stomach and face. Stryker-J flinched as he saw the heavy stream aim for his head, but the rest I drilled audibly inside him, fucking it deep into his reaching heat. I breathed heavily, my lungs burning.
Stryker closed his watery eyes, acting as if he’d passed out for our video. But, Off-camera, I caught the subtle rotation of his index finger — the universal signal to keep the scene rolling. Even ‘unconscious,’ John was greedy for it; the kid was directing his own wreckage, demanding I drive the spunk home.
I obliged him with a vengeance, realizing right then that I’d hit the goddamn jackpot with Stryker-J. He wasn’t just some amateur with a keyboard and a filthy mind; the kid was a natural-born performer and quite simply one hell of a fuck. I could see the two of us working some serious movie magic together.
• Impressed.
It was a good three minutes before I slowed down and finally pulled my slimy cock out. I stopped filming and unhooked the boy’s arms and legs, only for him to immediately wrap all four limbs around me like a koala. I hooked my arms under his ass and lifted him, carrying his weight a few steps before dropping the exhausted, cum-dripping boy onto the massive bed. I’m not sure how long we lay there side by side, but the silence of the cabin felt good.
John didn’t move. It wasn’t until I heard the soft, steady rhythm of a snore that I realized he’d fallen asleep. Even in his slumber, the cock framed by those leather chaps pranced as hard as ever. I let him sleep. I slipped out of bed and walked back to the kitchen to grab a coffee and finally eat the turkey sandwich John had prepared for me over an hour ago.
This wasn’t some run-of-the-mill gas station sandwich, either. John had toasted a brioche bun and layered the sliced turkey over a crisp bed of greens and pickles, dressing the whole thing with a heavy hit of black pepper and ‘the Devil’s spunk.’ The peppered mayo elevated the entire meal to restaurant-quality, and the addition of shredded, boiled egg whites made it something special. It turned out that apart from being an excellent writer and a high-tier lover, Stryker-J was quite the homemaker.
When I finally wandered back into the bedroom, the boy had stirred. He was stroking himself absent-mindedly, his eyes glazed and staring up at the heavy rope and pulley hanging over the edge of the bed. Resting quietly next to the kid, I kissed him and took his lovely, sweaty cock in my hand. I started stroking him, slowly edging him toward the brink. John hadn’t cum yet, and I was secretly hoping he would fill my ass before the day was over.
“How does that work?” Stryker-J asked inquisitively, pointing at the hook and pulley hanging from the ceiling. It showed me that he still had a lot to learn when it came to heavy bondage. I made a mental note to tell Rick. The black stud is a master when it comes to tying pigs up. I was more of a whip-and-paddle man myself, but both of us loved to teach the inexperienced.
“Ah — that’s part of the bondage play. You hook a guy’s legs onto a spreader bar, then you yank his legs in the air and fuck him raw or smack his butt,” I explained. I reached over and handed John the bar and a fearsome-looking black bullwhip with a dildo handle.
“Damn. That would do some damage,” John muttered, clearly impressed by the weight and the oily feel of the short whip.
“Not the aim of the game — but sure, it could,” I replied with a dark grin.
• Bondage Déjà vu.
John Stryker set the spreader bar on the blanket chest and fished a heavy paddle out of the toy bag. The dude straddled my chest, laughingly smacking the leather against my hips and torso. “Shit, Darek — déjà vu. I’ve dreamed about this!” he suddenly exclaimed.
“Well, dreams are meant to cum true,” I laughed. Stryker tilted his head to the side, a look of focused intent in his eyes, and went for it.
He moved fast, fastening a pair of ankle cuffs around my legs and hooking the metal bar between them. He pulled the ceiling hook down and hoisted the bar up until I was wide open. I repositioned my ass over the corner of the bed, my legs splayed on either side of the mattress, while he started to stroke himself. He used a bit of lube on his cockhead, making the swift strokes sound wet and sloppy. John squatted down, leaning forward and dropping his head beneath the spreader bar before penetrating me without a hint of remorse.
This dude was actually quite violent about it — the way Rick usually likes to play with me. It had been a while since Payne had nailed me this gruffly. Stryker-J was actually hurting me, and I loved it. Any other guy would’ve died a sorry death for trying that, but I loved the way Stryker was fulfilling his dream. He looked damned good doing it, too.
“This guy could absolutely replace a pro actor if he ever wanted to leave the writing desk,” I thought proudly, while John was railing my ass to oblivion.
About ten minutes into the session, Stryker-J audibly unloaded his nut inside me, and it took another five before he was finally spent. Between thrusts, he’d managed to take more than a dozen selfies of himself screwing me while I was bound in leather. Fuck, it was so hot.
• Black horse cock, anyone?
So did Rick. The man had been watching the two of us from the moment John tore my ass open. Payne’s denim jacket was open; he only wore the denim and jeans, nothing underneath, as was usual for him in this hot summer weather.
With his huge black cock in hand, he moved forward into the room. Moments before, John had dropped onto my chest, exhausted and panting. Stryker’s seven-inch cock was still twitching in my guts. I grabbed the twenty-five-year-old dude in a tight hold. He thought I was doing it to praise him, but I knew what Rick was about to do, so I held him down firmly. Seconds later, Stryker-J also knew.
Rick nailed John’s spermy ass in one go with that huge ten-inch black prick, slamming his balls against Stryker’s butt and making him scream. Rick covered the boy’s mouth with his fingerless driving gloves and fucked him anyway — hard and fast, raw and heavy.
In fact, Payne was more brutal than I had ever seen him take anyone before, and that was saying something. It took him all but three minutes to unload, nutting in Stryker’s ass for the second time that afternoon.
“Hi there, bro. Are you having fun in my man’s ass?” he asked in that deep voice, breathing heavily into John’s ear.
“Sorr — sorry, Master Payne?” Stryker muttered, stunned as he realized who the black stud was who was viciously nailing him. Rick still held John’s mouth and nose closed with his gloved palm, his denim jacket and jeans pressing tightly against John’s biker vest and chaps.
“Who are you?” he asked calmly, even though Rick Payne already knew the answer.
“I’m John Jenkins. You can call me Stryker, though, sir,” he panted. “You must be Darek’s man. I’m sorry, sir. He said it was okay if —”
“Shhh… It’s okay, bro. I’m Rick Payne,” grunted Payne huskily. “I know all about you, Stryker. Darek showed me your online work. We loved it,” Rick said warmly. He still let his oversized cock glide in and out of John’s juicy hole, but much more gently now. “You’ve got a nice, tight ass. And you take me well. Not many men do. I’m impressed,” groaned Rick Payne, honest and nasty.
He kept gyrating his hips deep into the boy, slow-fucking him while John’s aching cock was still plowing my hole. “Darek? What do we think of this one? Scored him yet?” asked Rick.
“He’s a fat ten if ever there was one. I told John Stryker to give you a call if he ever decides to go into porn, but he’s a little scared, buddy.”
“Shit? Really, bro? Wow… you must like him,” Rick said to me, sounding almost indignant.
“Bro, how long have we been married? You’re my Payne-in-my-ass. But spend an afternoon with this dude, and you’ll come to the same conclusion.”
“Okay — I don’t get this. I’m not a ten. I’d say… hmm, maybe a seven? Guys do like me, but I’m no porn star like the two of you. I only write about it online,” sighed Stryker-J.
“Don’t put yourself down, bro,” laughed Rick Payne. “A ten-plus score is the highest praise Darek can give. You must be good. Well, I know you’re good, actually, Stryker. I’ve watched you nail Steel and break him. No one but me has ever done that before you. Usually, it’s the other way around!” Rick said hotly. Payne finally slid his vast black ten-inch cock out of the boy’s slick, gaping cunt.
The three of us lay on the bed talking, letting John Stryker worship the two of us. Rick mounted his ass a couple more times, and I showed my husband what a clever cocksucker John really was, gagging the shit out of him. At the same time, Rick found more and more imaginative ways to do some anal damage. But the kid took it all in his stride.
The three of us took a long, hot shower a couple of hours before dinner. We invited John to join us for the next few days to help us shoot the porn movie the following day. We were making all his dreams come true — introducing him to bondage, domination, and rough gang sex. We were both hoping John’s presence would make the porn shoot a much more pleasurable experience.
• The leather gift.
Stryker really was the creative soul our production outfit was missing, and he seemed eager to help us in any way he could. He didn’t want much in return — just a bit of love and affection. Rick and I looked at each other and knew exactly what the other was thinking. John ‘Stryker’ Jenkins would get a fucking lot more than that from us.
Stryker took his sweet time doing his spiky blond hair, using my hairdryer and styling powder. Afterward, he found us sitting in the open-plan living room. Johnny had a dirty grin on his face as if he had been fucked. ‘Oh, wait.’ We had used his ass several times already, and he had loved it.
Rick sat on the brown leather loveseat, working on his laptop, while I sat at the large dining table near the kitchen. I was reading the final script and reviewing Rick’s paperwork from the executive producers in New York. Johnny wore his dirty work boots and baggy cargo shorts, his chest bare.
“Can I borrow a shirt? Mine is ripped. I really need to grab some clothes and a toothbrush from home if I’m going to sleep over,” asked John.
“Bullshit! I’ve got you covered, little bro. You’re my height and size,” said Rick. This was perfectly true. Both men were around 6’ 2” — slim, yet nicely masculine. The only difference, apart from their skin color, was their age; Rick is thirty-one, and Stryker is twenty-five. I was glad I married Rick, but at this point, John Jenkins would stand a good chance with me, too.
“But if you’re more comfortable in your own gear — well, I can drive you home in Rick’s car after dinner,” I suggested warmly.
Rick jumped up and grabbed one of his white denim shirts, a spare toothbrush, a tall but narrow butt plug, and a small bottle of lube. He also handed John a leather wristband and his snug cafe-racer jacket. He laughed his ass off as he passed the gear to John.
Stryker stuck the butt plug unabashedly into his mouth. He swung the white snap-button denim shirt, with the sleeves ripped off, over his nude, muscular chest. The smooth, collarless cafe-racer jacket sucked itself onto the boy’s bare shoulders. Rick pulled the coat forward and zipped it up halfway, admiring the hot new look. Stryker wore it well! We both agreed on that.
“Suits you, Johnny. It’s a little bit too tight for my liking,” sighed Rick. “In fact, keep it, bro!”
Stryker looked as if Christmas had come in July.
“Thanks, Master Payne! Now then — where do I need to stick this?” Stryker mumbled naughtily through a mouthful of butt plug, raising the toothbrush in the air.
Rick and I laughed hard at the joke. “How about you bend over, bro? I know a place where it can do some real pain!” suggested Rick Payne naughtily. He pulled the butt plug out of John’s mouth and kissed him full on the lips without preamble.
“I like you, bro. How old are you? What work do you do? Tell us a bit more about yourself, horndog. How come you call yourself Stryker-J online? Aren’t you out?” Rick fired off the questions while he guided Stryker back toward the loveseat.
Rick was already digging for the truth, and knowing my husband, he wouldn’t stop until he’d stripped John down to his very soul. I settled back, watching the two of them, and felt the weight of that gutted script finally lift. I’d been dreading a dull, routine shoot, but with Stryker in the mix, tomorrow was going to be the most intense — and delicious — thing we’d ever worked on.
< Continued in part 3 of 3 >
Thank you for reading this story.
Please give it a 👍 Like or a Comment if you are inclined to do so.
And if your hands are not too dirty from all the spilled cum! 😋
© StrykerJ – January 2024
Edited: January 2026
