With my new slave still safely locked away and restrained in the basement, it was time to change into something more appropriate than my medical scrubs and jock. I wanted to cultivate the utmost of panic and see it spreading across his face with the realisation that he was now fully and completely owned by a demanding leather master, and that I could abuse him any way I saw fit. Perhaps the most stereotypical image of what society held was a good start.
My play closet was well equipped with plenty of fetish clothing – from extensive uniforms of every type to full rubber and leathers for fetish and practicality of riding a bike. The rest of the toys and restraints were downstairs where they belonged.
Picking a black leather uniform shirt out the closet with sewn on NYPD badges, I quickly stripped off my uniform scrubs and replaced with the heavy shirt, and also selected a pair of black leather tight leather pants with white stripe down the side of each leg. The pants were heavy and tight to pull over my muscular thighs, and also had a zip out codpiece at the front with padded leather detailing to enhance the look. Stuffing my again swollen cock through the hole in the front of the pants, I zipped the covering into position.
Finishing the look by pulling on a pair of tall Dehner boots which were polished to a high shine, I added a waist and sam brown style belt which I buckled closed. With a black leather muir cap detailed with chrome, the full leatherman look was complete. I debated a heavy leather langlitz jacket over the top – just to add to the effect. Donning the jacket, it would certainly add to the look, even if it had to be taken off due to heat levels. I was happy and horny with how I looked.
It was over and hour since I left the playroom. The sedative would have long worn off by now and by now he’d probably be in full panic mode and testing the bonds. I had no doubt he wouldn’t be getting out of them. Designed for human and animal patients to keep them secure, only I could unlock them… even if he had by some miracle pulled them off – his hands were still in tube restraints and he was still locked in a cell. Add to that the angle of the bed, and he’d feel even more disorientated.
Descending the staircase into the cool of the basement, and opening the first barred door, I could already hear grunts and the sounds of struggles. There was the unmistakeable sound of utility belt and the creak of leather.
Moving from the airlock area to the cell door, I unlocked and unbolted the door. He would be able to hear all this movement, and turning on the lighting, the noise increased from his thrashing against his bonds. In front of me was a beautiful sight… fully uniformed and fully restrained muscle cop, strapped down and struggling, all laid out like he was about to receive a lethal injection in a jail cell. The struggle had been fruitless as he was still restrained in all the same places as left, and the effort meant there were beads of sweat showing on his head.
Stroking my leather gloved hand across his forehead, I located the end of the tape sealing his left eye shut, and gently pulled down to remove the tape. With no hint of drowsiness from mass of adrenaline now circulating through his system, the eye was wide open straight away and trying to make sense of the surroundings. Similarly, I removed the tape from the right eye and stood back out of view.
The collar holding him to the bench ensured he couldn’t raise his head enough to see his whole restrained body, but could lift it enough to see his arms strapped tightly down and the straps across his chest.
I spoke from behind his awareness.
“Good morning boy. I trust you enjoyed your sleep”. To which I was greeted by a tirade of moaning and attempts at shouting into the gag. Moving into a position of full view, I wanted him to see his master.
“So it would seem boy that there have been a lot of complaints about you from the local queer community…” not normally a word I would use but under the situation I want him primed to be as humiliated as I could… “and I’ve taken it upon myself to teach you a lesson.” More moaning and attempts at shouting, and struggles.
“Don’t worry, I’ve made sure that you’re not going anywhere soon. No matter how hard you struggle, you won’t be able to get out of those restraints. In fact, you had better get used to the feeling of control.”
I moved closer to his ear; leaned forward and gently gave it a nibble.
“You see boy, you’ve been disappeared – I now own you – what you think – what you do, and this is your new home.”
Wild struggling ensued.
“So, I’m going to train you to be everything you’ve given abuse to in the past. You don’t need a name any longer other than ‘boy’ which is exactly what you’re going to be from now on. You’re going to be slave to a demanding Leatherman, who’s going to use your mouth and tight ass for his own pleasure, and you’re going to learn how to serve me. Now hold still boy...”
Using some surgical scissors, I stretched the tape tight which was wrapped round his mouth and head, and snipped away, and then unpeeled it from around his head. As soon as his mouth was uncovered, he spat out the jock I’d stuffed his mouth full with and started hurling abuse at me.
Placing my gloved hand across his mouth and nose, I calmly told him “You can shout and scream all you like boy, nobody is going to come to help you. I’ve prepared extensively and meticulously and these cells are prison grade, away enough from people that nobody will hear you. There are three doors between you and the outside world, and only I have the 20 digit codes and keys which will open them.”
Taking my hand away, a further bout of abuse continued, going through almost each and every name for gay people society had – and even some I’d never heard before.
I calmly and gently leaned next to his ear again.
“Feel better? You see boy, I’m a surgeon, and you’re my pet. If need be, I’ll take my scalpel, drug you and I’ll make a small incision in your neck called a tracheotomy which will mean their air won’t pass your vocal chords, and you’ll not be able to speak or curse again. But you have such a pretty neck, I’d much rather not spoil it eh?”
Instantly the abuse stopped, only to be replaced by begging. I just ignored it.
“Now let’s see what you have to offer boy and get rid of that uniform. You won’t need it again after all”.
“Now now boy, I think you need another lesson in respect. Besides, you’ll be experiencing that soon enough”.
Taking a metal spider gag from a toy shelf, I moved it towards the boy’s face. Realising what was coming, he clamped his mouth closed shut. Putting one gloved hand over his nostrils and sealing them shut, I pushed the gag against his closed lips hard – but it was only a matter of time until he had to take a breath. Impressively lasting more than a minute, I was losing patience. Releasing my grip over his nose, I quickly took his stun gun out my pocket, touched it to his outer thigh, and pushed the trigger. Click click click. He screamed out involuntarily as the electrical impulses fired through his central nervous system. I rammed the gag into his open mouth and forcefully fastened the strap around the back of his head.
“There boy, you’ll learn in time.”
Running my gloved and down his uniformed torso, I reached his utility belt. Warm and smelling of leather, I ran my hand across it from side to side, and pressed on the struggling hips beneath. Unclipping and opening it, there was just enough space to pull it under him and slide it away. The almost X shaped configuration of the table gave perfect access from all angles.
Next, I again groped his cock and balls through the fabric of the uniform. I could feel the base of his cock, and traced it with my fingers to its tip, and back down again. There was nothing the boy could do other than curse again into the gag as this strong Leatherman felt him up. It felt a good package.
Undoing his uniform belt, I took his zipper and enjoyed the humiliation of slowly force stripping this uniformed hunk. Reaching behind his still restrained waist, I put a hand on both ass cheeks and eased the uniform down to his thighs. The pants were never going to come off unless I removed the straps one by one – and it was a shame to cut it off. Pulling down his pants revealed my new slave to be clad in a jock of his own under uniform, which highlighted his meat well.
My own meat struggling against its codpiece, was already running away with the possibilities of what I was going to use this stud for next. Quickly I’d pulled his jock down to reveal a massive pair of bull balls, and wide looking cock with purple head. Taking both balls in one leathered hand, I pulled them and squeezed them, to which he moaned into the gag.
“Now that’s a nice set boy. It’s a shame you’re not going to be able to touch them again.”
Keeping the tension on his balls, I used my other hand to stroke and work up the length of his cock, until I reached the head, and gave it some stimulation. I dipped my gloved hand into his mouth, to coat it with wetness before returning to his cock head. The moaning changed in cadence, and despite all the protests, my stimulation was starting to get him hard.
“You like a big Leatherman playing with your cock boy?” I used his words… “Should this fucking queer force you to shoot your load, turn you into a fucking cop muscle faggot?”
I think I heard “no please” through the gag.
I loosened the leather strap around his chest, leaving the waist strap and collar in place. Reaching up, I removed the clip on tie and undid the zip of his uniform shirt. The body armour underneath made his torso look even larger than it was. Unfastening it, it was easy to slide it out from his back, and reveal what was under. Dark chest hair – not too much – not too little, and a fantastic pair of pecs, and shapely chest. He was inked too – across his torso and down to his abs. I followed the ‘treasure trail’ of hair down his chest between his pecs, and ran my gloved hand down the six pack that it head to. This bull was definitely into his iron.
Leaning over, I licked across his abs, and worked my way up to one of his tits. Starting gently, I took it in my mouth and moved my tongue around it. In an unexpected reaction, his head went back down flat onto the bed, and all sound stopped. Continuing my exploration, I brought my teeth into play and started nibbling gently to begin and then harder and harder. Unmistakably, there was a moan. Not a protest or of anger – that moan was pure pleasure.
Encouraging me even more, I worked it for a while before moving to the other. There was more struggling and writhing into the bonds, but there was something different about this compared with earlier. Looking down his torso, his cockhead was standing at full attention. With both gloved hands I worked both his tits, and all he did was moan loudly into his spider gag.
“Well well well – perhaps you have potential after all boy – only a faggot slave gets hard when his master chews on his tits.”
Returning to his cock with one hand, I stroked the length of it again and teased the tip, which was already moist and leaking pre-cum. Wiping it away with my glove, I pushed my finger into the gag, and transferred it into his mouth. Re-securing the restraints tight, I continued slowly stimulating him and playing with his tits. Not enough to allow him to cum, but enough to tease him and hold him on the edge.
I spent a good 30 minutes repeatedly playing with his beautiful pecs and tits and cock whilst he remained strapped down and gagged. Each time when I thought he was getting close, I stood back and observed the moaning stop and his breathing rate return to normal. During the second or third attempt and not being allowed shoot his load, he wildly pulled against the restraints, and there was a look of begging in his eyes and attempts at hip thrusts against the leather straps.
“You want your master to get you off boy? Fire that creamy load while I play with your tits you fucking faggot?”
He sobbed into the gag, desperate for his pent up sexual tension to be relieved.
“I told you you’re not going to have access to your cock again, queer”.
Picking up his utility belt, I unclipped his side handled baton, and made sure he could observe every part.
“See how pretty this baton is boy. I wonder how many people you’ve taken it to in your time without need. So this is where the baton gets its own back boy. You see what a nice shape handle it has… “ I took lube, and dripped it onto the handle and spread it. “this is going to look so pretty up your tight hole….”
He started wildly bucking against the restraints, but there was very little point. His chest and cock and balls were nice and exposed and vulnerable, and whilst his pants still weren’t completely removed; I still had enough access to what was behind for the purpose at hand. It looked especially hot with his wrist still inside the restraint tubes and strapped down, and his legs spread wide and polished leather boots contrasting against the brown leather.
Rubbing the bulbous head of the baton down from the back of his balls, I spread the lube and identified the target. With just the right angle, I started applying pressure to which he went wild and the moans increased.
“There ya go boy, this will slide up that tight cop butt of yours and turn you into my cop on a stick one way or the other. I’ll push nice and hard until it disappears, and rape your hole with his big stick”.
Pushing hard, I could feel the perhaps six inch baton handle facing resistance, but slowly progressing. The straps meant that he couldn’t avoid this invader, nor pull away too much. With continued pressure, the moans seemed to reach a loud point before I suddenly felt the baton head disappear behind his sphincter, and the rest of the handle follow. I was looking forward to replacing the baton with my own cock in due course.
Now he was sobbing. Slowly pulling back and pushing it into place again, it was there to stay for as long as I wanted, with the long shaft of it now pointing towards the ceiling.
His cock was still rock hard despite this new invader, and I returned to force edging him for another period.
Sweat was now beading down his abs, which I bent down and tasted. Musky and masculine.
Repeatedly working his tits and putting pressure on the baton, his cock head was heavily oozing pre-cum. Whilst he might have moaned about it, his body had other ideas and showed his clear enjoyment at his control and being forced. My own cock head had been hard the entire time and was once again getting desperate for release.
Another three or four rounds of forced stimulation, each time backing off before he received any happy ending, and he was begging and sobbing like a baby.
“You wanna shoot your load boy? With that nice baton filling your tight cop hole and your master playing with your tits and cock?”
There was a definitely a nodding and affirmative request from behind the gag.
“Let me show you something boy, it’s what you’ll be wearing from now on”. Taking a seed pod chastity device from the shelf which was out of his view, I held it up in front of his face. “You see boy, until you’re trained, I own your cock and balls, and I don’t allow boys to cum. I’m gonna fit his around your cock and balls and padlock it in place permanently. That way, you’re my queer muscle cop who exists only to pleasure me not himself.”
Moans. Lots of moans.
Taking his cock and balls in my hand, I roughly pushed them through the seed pod entry hole and then fasted his cock and balls inside.
Swinging the pod closed, I fastened the allen key tight and snapped a small padlock into position. Very nice.
“Time to take the rest of your uniform boy.”
Something else to aid my humiliation of him.
“So, do you want to go to sleep again boy?”
Clearly from the head movements the answer was a no.
“Okay, if you want to stay awake then you better calm the fuck down and be a good boy for Daddy while you’re stripped.”
Starting with one boot, I undid the leather strap around the ankle and eased the boot from the boy’s leg. The other ankle came next. The boots were heavy, highly polished, almost perfect. I considered they would probably fit me, and my new slave was going to look fantastic spit shining them. The knee and thigh straps were going to have to be removed for the tight blue uniform trousers to come off.
Unfastening one leg, then the other, the boy was still attached at the neck, waist and all across the torso, but the legs have the most powerful muscles in the body. This muscle boy’s legs felt and looked powerful. Positioning myself mostly out of range, I slid the tight uniform pants down both the legs to reveal nice muscular thighs and well developed quads and calves.
The boy took the opportunity to try and kick off. Avoiding a foot in the face, I took the still inserted baton, and pushed, at the same time hitting the trigger on the stun gun and again applying it to his thigh. A scream ensued, and I quickly re-fastened each ankle, knee and thigh restraint back up.
“Okay boy, I told you to behave.”
Unbuckling the spider gag, I pulled it out the boy’s mouth.
“For your arms and torso we’ll do this a different way”
Taking a rubber anaesthetic mask, I pushed it down over the boy’s mouth and nose, and wrapped the rubber straps around the back of his head and fastened them tight.
“We’ll play a game now boy. Behave and you’ll win this game.”
Unfastening the Velcro on one of the tube restraints, I slid it off his hand. Removing the shirt was either going to need co-operation or force. First undoing the bicep strap, I slowly released his entire arm, and unclipped the collar from the bed. As soon as the collar was unlocked, an arm swung to connect with my chin. Fortunately it missed, and I managed to take control of the unrestrained wrist and strap it back into position.
“Okay boy, you lose, now it’s my turn”.
Returning to the mask, I fitted a rebreather bag onto it, and closed the input valve.
“I warned you boy. Just breath normally. Before long, you’ll feel light headed. In a few minutes, you’re going to struggle for breath, and panic and I’m going to do nothing. Then you will pass out and I’m going to strip you. You’ll wake up with a headache, and you’ll still have that baton in your ass. You’ll learn. Your owner always wins.”