« New Slave Gets Tied and Fucked by Master Tober | Home | Chad Rock gets a hard bondage suspension-fuck. »
The Leather Casting Couch
By bondagehunks | August 8, 2008
The Leather Casting Couch
Part One:
“I want to be your slave.”
I wasn’t sure I heard him right. Philip was a studio exec. A man who snapped underlings in half with no more effort than bending a straw. One of the most powerful men in Hollywood – in control of millions of dollars – with the ability to double it or lose it all with a single phone call and I was a mere actor, a day player at that!
”You want to repeat that?” We were at his place – an old 30’s bungalow in the Hollywood Hills.
“I want to be your slave, Kyle. It’s all I can think about since I saw you at Dark Night.”
Now that explained it. Dark Night was a trendy new club in West Hollywood that specialized in men who like it . . . a little rough, shall we say? And he had been there. . . Interesting.
“Alright. As long as you understand that it’s not a ten-minute game. There are rules. I’ll allow you to use a safe word in case things get too rough, but once you’ve spoken it – it’s over. I’m not interested in a slave who isn’t entirely devoted to me, to my pleasure.”
It was a funny thing, as I began speaking those words, I felt my personality shift. The man who normally graveled at the feet of studio heads, was suddenly holding all the cards. The change in tone excited me and I him. I could see him absorbing my words, questioning himself already, but too intrigued to turn back.
“How do we start?” he asked.
“We’ve already started,” I replied, deep and throaty and he actually moaned. God, that was delicious. Why hadn’t we done this before? “Go home. Go to work tomorrow. You’ll receive your instructions by noon. I don’t care what you have planned. I don’t care about business. This is business. My business. You follow the instructions letter for letter. There is no other choice.” I stood up, signaling that our evening was over. I think it surprised him, since he’d planned on spending the night. “Go home and get some rest and think about what you’ve done.”
His eyes actually grew wider. “More like, how will I stop thinking about it? I’ll never get any work done tomorrow, waiting for your instructions.”
“Get used to it. Because this is how it’s going to be from now on.”
I think I scared him. Not right then and there but when he went home, alone and climbed into his cold bed with no one to fuck – that was when he thought about it. Realized that there was more to it than just bondage and pain. I’d gotten into his head – that quickly. I’d gone from being another cog in the wheel to a distraction and thinking about THAT made it hard for me to work, too.
To Be Continued. . . .
Topics: My Stories |