When Alex first set eyes on the guy he almost came in his jeans. As far as he was concerned, the man was total, absolute perfection: hunky, muscular, good-looking, dressed from head to toe in skintight, shiny black leather, and with a bulge in his jeans that made Alex go weak at the knees.
Alex had never cruised on the common before - he'd always been a bit wary of getting hassled by the police - but tonight he was so deliciously horny that he'd thrown caution to the wind and set off into the undergrowth.
The man was leaning against an oak tree, one foot raised behind him pressed against the bark, his thumbs in his pockets and his tightly gloved fingers resting on that incredible bulge. He was staring into space, seemingly unaware of Alex's presence.
Even for a twenty-year old, Alex was inexperienced in the extreme, never having actually tried to pick a guy up before, and he was unsure how to go about it. But since he'd first spotted the man, thirty seconds ago, his hard cock had been doing the thinking for him as it pushed against the rough denim of his jeans. Without stopping to wonder exactly what he was going to say, he approached the guy.
"Hello," was the only thing he could think of.
The man looked at him without smiling, scanning him slowly from the feet up, and then returned his gaze to the trees in the distance without replying.
"Fucking hell, those leather jeans are..." Alex ran out of words again.
"Skintight. Sexy. You want to feel them, run your hands over them, lick them, bury your face in my crotch. Yes, I know. That's why I wear them - because they have that effect on boys. And because they get my cock hard." He squeezed his cock through the black leather and Alex almost fainted with lust.
"I-" Alex swallowed. His mouth was almost too dry to speak. "I want to be your slave, Sir. I'll do anything. Anything..." He managed to croak.
The guy took out his cigarettes, not offering one to Alex. "You want to be my slave," he said, as he lit it. "Have you ever been a slave before?"
"No. No, Sir." He'd almost forgotten to add the word 'Sir' there.
The guy nodded. "And what do you think it means?"
Alex really had no idea. He'd read some stories about Masters and their slaves, but couldn't remember a great deal. "To worship you and your leathers and to go out with you and to let you do whatever you want to me, beat me and fuck me and..." What else does a slave do? He tried to think.
The guy looked down at his booted feet. "What is the single most important thing a slave should want? Above everything else. In one sentence."
Alex thought frantically. His brain wasn't working. "I- I can't think, Sir."
The guy's blue eyes "To give his Master pleasure."
Yes! Of course! "Yes! Sir!" He said.
"To give his Master pleasure no matter in what form the Master requires it."
"Yes Sir! I'd let you beat me and fuck me and –"
"I have no interest in beating slaves. I may fuck from time to time but that is not what turns me on most of all."
Alex swallowed again - and then swallowed his pride. "Sir, I'll be honest. I haven't been with guys very much. I'm not experienced. But I've never seen anyone like you. As soon as I saw you my heart nearly stopped. Just looking at you in those leathers makes me want to cum. You are fucking... you're the most gorgeous, sexy man I've ever seen in my life. I want you so badly. Please, Sir - please."
The guy considered this speech for a while, the lopsided smile still on his face. Then he lowered his foot to the ground and spread his legs. "Put your hands behind your back, and kneel down, here." He pointed to the grass between his booted feet.
Alex dived into the position. He found his face inches from that mouth-watering crotch he lusted after so much. The leather of the guy's jeans was so black and so shiny that he could almost see his reflection in the surface which moulded itself around the man's cock and balls. It took every bit of his willpower to stop himself from leaning forward, licking the leather, and taking the outline of that cock in his mouth.
The guy just stood there, looking down at the top of Alex's blond head. He began to move his fingertips slowly and teasingly over his bulging cock, which was rapidly becoming fully hard under the leather. "Your wrists are cuffed behind your back. You can not move them – but in your imagination, take your hand and put it on my thigh, just above the knee. Ok? Now, lightly - lightly - move it upwards... slowly.... and round to the inside of my thigh. Feel that black leather under your fingers. Stroke my balls through those skintight leather jeans, boy... Yeah. Now, I want you to –"
Alex stared, gave a shudder, and groaned. "Oh fuck. I'm sorry Sir. I'm so sorry. Oh Fuck fuck fuck!!" He was cumming in his jeans.
The guy gazed at him in silence until the boy's cock had stopped jerking, and then told him to stand up.
Alex stood, keeping his hands behind his back, excruciatingly aware of the wet, sticky spunk soaking into his faded jeans.
The leatherman looked at the spreading stain, and then into Alex's eyes. A corner of his mouth lifted. "Do you usually cum that easily?"
"No sir! I don't! But looking at you, Sir, and imagining..."
"And how do you feel about being my slave now that you've just cum? Not quite such an intense wish, eh?"
Alex nodded his head violently, and looked horrified. "Oh yes ! Just as much Sir! More! Oh fuck, I would do anything to be your slave Sir!" His expression relaxed, and he sniffed. "I've never felt like this before about anyone," he said. He was embarrassed - not just by having cum, but by having even hinted at the strength of his feelings for this man. He thought he was in love with him.
The man's lopsided smile dissolved. He crushed the cigarette and threw it away. "Well, I'm not looking for a slave. Or at least I wasn't," he said. At the sight of the boy who looked like he was about to burst into tears, he added, "but you are cute. Very cute. How old are you?"
"I was twenty on Wednesday, Sir."
"Mmm..." The man looked like he was trying to decide whether or not to take this any further. "Put your hands on your head and turn around away from me. And for the next thirty seconds, you will stay in that position without moving a muscle. Is that clear? You will not move. Self-control is an important thing to me. Consider this a test. If you pass it, then I may consider you."
Alex nodded, then did as he was told, interlacing his fingers above his head. The man pulled the boy's tee shirt out of his jeans and slipped his gloved hands up under it. He positioned them on the boy's sides, just below the bottom ribs, and then began to stroke the smooth skin lightly and quickly with his fingertips.
A grunt of unexpected ticklishness escaped Alex's lips. It took all of his concentration to force himself to keep still as the fingers moved forward and up over his ribs, tickling them very lightly as they went, and up to his armpits. As they reached them he suddenly began to laugh hysterically. His body began moving – there was nothing he could do about that – but at least he was keeping it under control, just.
The hands dropped slowly down to his ribs again, and then to his sides. When they got there the fingers stiffened and jabbed in hard. Alex lost it completely. He knew that this was a test and that his ability to take it would determine whether or not the guy would be interested in him. But there was no way he could take it – he'd always been incapacitatingly ticklish. Unable to stop himself, he fell into a heap on the ground and curled up into a tight ball to protect himself, screaming in hysterics. The guy's hands followed him down, still tickling him until his desperate writhing managed to get the hands away from him.
The leatherman straightened up and waited for him to get himself together. He wasn't sure whether the boy was aware of it or not, but Alex had a hard-on in his jeans again.
"Oh fuck," said Alex when he was capable of speech again. "Oh fuck. Shit. I'm sorry, Sir. Oh fuck." He felt like crying. He'd had a chance with this amazing guy and he'd fucking blown it. He looked up at the blue eyes staring down at him.
The man shook his head slowly. "You can't control yourself, can you, boy…?"
Alex dropped his eyes in shame to the grass under him. "Not with that. I'm sorry. But can we try something different? Please Sir ? "
The man squeezed his cock through his leather jeans. "No, we can't. I've seen all I need to see." He was gazing into the boy's eyes. "Being a slave is about giving your Master pleasure. It is also about offering your greatest weaknesses for him to exploit for his pleasure. It is about discovering yourself."
A small smile appeared on the leatherman's lips. "You passed the test with flying colours, by the way."
Alex blinked. "But – but I couldn't control myself."
"Exactly. You have no defence against tickling – and tickle torture is what I do." He let a few seconds go by for Alex to think about this. Then he said, "Now, do you still want to be my slave?"
The boy swallowed. There was no way on earth he could stand being tickled, far less tortured with it. But then he thought about what the guy had said, about a slave's greatest weakness giving a Master the most pleasure. About discovering himself. Giving this beautiful guy pleasure was what he needed to do most of all.
He looked up into the blue eyes. "Yes, Sir. If you'll have me."
After a while the guy smiled. "Let's go."