Date: Tue, 21 Mar 2006 23:16:11 +0100
From: Julian Obedient <julian.obedient@gmail.com>
Subject: a leather slave

1

They sat late over espressos, transfixed by one another, talking about
how much they were like each other.

Chance had thrown them together at Lincoln Center. They were seated
next to each other at Wozzeck, complete strangers who knew at the
first meeting of their eyes that they were made for each other.  Each
was delighted to find in the other not just the looks he'd have been
happy to go home with if they'd crossed paths on Christopher Street,
but a person like himself with similar interests, pursuits, fantasies.

They did not have to make conversation. They just flowed into each other.

When the cafe closed they left and walked through the warmth of the
spring night pleased with each other and proud of the success of what
they teasingly began to call their first date.

You want to keep going, spend the night together? Sandy said with a
winning combination of shyness and spunk.

Very much, Lex responded with a wink.

They took hold of each other's hands and on the dark street corner
under the lamppost they faced each other and kissed themselves into
erectility one more time and then stumbled across the street as if
they had become one being.

Lex's loft was all white and sparsely furnished. The few pieces in it
lacked neither taste nor elegance. Everything was white -- furniture,
walls, floor. But there were candles rather than electric light,
casting  upon everything in consequence  an amber glow.

Lex wore a three-piece charcoal gray double-breasted Italian worsted
suit with the faintest gray chalk stripe. His shirt was a white on
white and his tie was a black, gray and silver striped silk. There was
a matching breast pocket handkerchief and silver clocks adorned his
black silk socks, which were held up under his trousers by silver
garters. He wore gun metal black shoes of supple calf skin. His hair
was long and almost black. Tonight it was combed close to his scalp
and parted sharply on the right, highlighting his high cheekbones,
square jaw, strong nose and white teeth.  His eyes were wide set and
of a penetrating gray.  He was well-tanned, and to look at him you
knew he had just spent a few weeks in the Caribbean.

Sandy was wearing a very dusty-hued three button brown suit with the
palest sky blue chalk stripes. Like Lex, he favored a trouser pleated
and cuffed, tight enough around the ass but flowing freely although
not loosely, either, down the leg. His shirt, pocket handkerchief and
socks were of the same celestial blue as the chalk stripe in his suit.
So were his eyes. He wore a low boot of doe skin color with a slight
heel. His hair was abundant and windblown and from its color you knew
why from childhood "Justin" couldn't stick and everyone called him
Sandy.

Lex poured a little armagnac into a snifter and put it to Sandy's lips.

Drink, he said.

Sandy took a sip.

Another, Lex said, and this time leave it on your lips.

Then he put the glass to his own lips. Then he covered Sandy's
brandied lips with his own. Their mouths parted. Their tongues
caressed. They stretched more fully into each other with kisses that
turned their souls upside down.

As they continued to kiss, Sandy took hold of the perfectly fashioned
Windsor knot at Lex's throat and gradually began to undo his tie until
he had the two sides draping him like a scarf. Then he began to
unbutton Lex's shirt. Without stopping their cadenza of kisses Lex
reached the brandy glass safely onto a side table, a white marble slab
set on a white enameled art deco iron base. In his turn he loosened
Sandy's tie and began unbuttoning his shirt until he saw the crescent
of his white wifebeater. He pulled it up revealing Sandy's bare chest,
and thrilled to feel that it was shaved. He molded his hand to the
contours of the chest and kneaded his palm into the firm breasts. With
his finger tips he traced the circles of the nipples and felt them
stiffen. He lingered at the nipples, which he teased with alternating
attention and frustration.

And then he went back to the lips, brushing kisses on them and then
backing away repeatedly so that the more he fed Sandy with kisses the
hungrier for them he became.

I'm gonna get you so hot you're not gonna know what you're doing, he
whispered to him before delivering the kiss he had been making Sandy
swoon for by withholding it. I'm going to turn you into my slave.
You'd like that.

The very twitches of their bodies suggested the continuous ratcheting
up of their energy and excitement.

Lex pulled himself back from a kiss just before it felt Sandy's lips,
and instead whispered, Beg for it. Say please.

Please, Lex, Sandy said, and repeated it until the words became part
of his breath. When his mouth was muffled with a kiss, he mouthed them
inside the kiss he gave back.

2

It was with especial delight that Lex stared at Sandy as he lay
stretched with the quilt thrown off him asleep in the candle light in
only the black microfiber thong that Lex had given him to sleep in.

He was thinking before he began about what he was going to do to
Sandy. He stared at him in wonderment.  He was golden - and he was
caught.

This one's too good to let get away, or to risk letting him have his
own way. I want full command.

You belong to me, he whispered. You will be a magnificent leather slave.

Just sounding the words nearly made him swoon.

Then he startled Sandy awake with a rough kiss and a fist around his scrotum.

With his free arm he put weight on his chest, and said, audibly, Please me.

At which Sandy raised himself from supine to nearly sitting by leaning
on his elbows. His eyes were clear but with the expression of wistful
devotion. He raised his head and pressed his lips to Lex's and clung
to him with his tongue, feeling himself dissolve inside this man as
he'd never felt himself do with anyone before. This man was his
fulfillment.

>From the side table Lex took a soft leather strap and gently started
teasing Sandy with it.

Feel it, Sandy, the delicacy of leather.  It makes you know you have to obey.

Sandy opened his mouth deeper and surrendered to the joy of his
master's kisses.

All he felt throughout his body, and throbbing in his nerves, and
formulating itself in his mind was that he wanted this man inside him,
that he wanted to give his body and his soul over to this man and
serve him. He felt his muscles contracting with desire, and deep
inside him he was flexing himself preparing himself, as desire flamed
in him, to feel his master's cock inside him tearing to his depths.

As they kissed Lex gently stroked the crevice where the back strap of
the thong had been pressing and found that eager hole, and gently
circled it. He brought his hand to Sandy's mouth and with it full of
his wetness returned to his bottom and pressed a finger deep inside
him making him gasp and buck and jump. He pulled out of him and pulled
his legs apart and arched him up into a perfect parabola, his chest
muscles straining against his skin, his arms folded behind his head.

His cock was his hunting spear, and he entered Sandy's forest with it
and played up and down his anal canal, fast and slow and changing his
rhythm and dancing inside him, giddy with the animal power of earth
and sunshine. All of Sandy's beasts responded with a fury of
disciplined movement and charged at him grabbing hold of him and with
quick repetitions of in-out breaths pulled him in and danced around
him. Arcs of excitement breaking across his body, throbbing like a
wave rolling to its crest, flailing, Sandy assaulted Lex's face with
wild kisses.

3

Sandy had no objection to dressing in leather. He liked it.  It gave
him an opportunity to refashion himself.

Now he knew he was in good shape and he wasn't one of those queens who
complain about something they know they have nothing to complain
about, but are just fishing. But still, he thought, it could be
better, better defined chest, get a little more tight contour in the
ass.

He started working out, doing yoga and playing soccer. He liked the
discipline of working out. It was his own special secret obedience
training. He liked the dissolving heat of yoga and the awareness of
his breath. He liked the masculine jazz of soccer. It was Brazilian
dancing. He lost himself in everything.

It all added up to he looked great. He was pleased. Lex was very
pleased and whispered in his ear, Please me.

Sandy fell into a swoon and all his senses died, and in the hollow
tunnel where something used to be, a tree began to grow, and his
master's voice grew on the tree and he heard it leading to a stream
from which he drank stretched out beside it his lips to the water.

4

Sandy was in leather -- pants, motorcycle jacket hanging open over
bare, shaved chest and washboard abs, black leather band for a collar,
boots, bareheaded. He was waiting at The Bat nursing a brandy at the
bar, indifferent to all the concupiscent gazes directed at him.

Lex entered the room. The contrast was stark -- the one a leather slut
to make men's mouths water; the other impeccably, elegantly attired in
a worsted power suit and silken shirt, in shoes proud and supple of
burnished leather, in such easy command of himself that it makes men
daydream about worshipping him.

They approached each other and smiled. It was their conspiracy. They
embraced and kissed and went over to the table that was waiting for
them.  Lex placed the flat of his palm under Sandy's jacket, cupping
his hard breast, feeling his tight nipple. They knew they were being
looked at. They were into it. It was power.

A shy, young, waiter with a high pompadour, wearing tight black
trousers - they could see the discrete outline of his erection --
cummerbund, bow tie, a form fitting waistcoat and a tiny silver
earring approached the table and bowed before inquiring if he might
take the gentlemen's orders.