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IT'S NOT FAIR
[My hobby is refinishing furniture. I discovered these recordings in the drawer of a small desk I had retrieved from a second-hand store. I have no idea where they came from, who made them or when, or if they're true.]
Transcribed from recording #1.
Arnie says just talk. It's part of my training, he says. Okay, here goes. [Clears throat, then a few seconds of fumbling.]
I don't remember much from before Arnie: being naked and cold, mostly. Just something about a dirty alley. No idea what happened, really. Arnie said I was unconscious, and he rescued me: wrapped me up in a blanket and took me to his place, warmed me up and got some food into me. Then he put me up in a spare bed. And then I slept. Arnie's place is a loft, over a warehouse. Nobody else lives there, and you can't hear shit downstairs.
I don't think he expected it--me--to happen. I know I didn't. I woke up and I was feeling better: I wasn't puking any more, and I didn't have the runs. So I woke up in the night, and I was horny, for the first time in forever, maybe.
Arnie had this pair of engineer boots by the door, and it was late, and Arnie was in bed, so I snuck over and grabbed them to...play with, you know? I was jacking off and smelling the boots and then I tried licking one of them, and my tongue was on the toe, and all of a sudden, the light came on, and there was Arnie!
[Imitates a second voice] "You like my boots, I take it."
I just froze, even my tongue: I didn't even breathe. My heart was the only part moving, and it was pounding a million beats a second.
"Would you like to polish my boots?" I never expected Arnie to say that. I thought he'd say to get the fuck out of his place, or call me a pervert or something, but he said I could polish his boots, if I licked them clean first!
He got some polish and stuff, and put on the boots and sat down and I licked them and polished them real good, and then he told me to go ahead and jack off while he got off watching me and shot all over my face. And I really liked it! Arnie said maybe we could do it again, and even more stuff, if I wanted to, so we did some more like he put on his motorcycle jacket and told me to lick his cock, sort of make love to it like I made love to the boots. And the weird thing was, it was so, I don't know, ordinary? No, not ordinary, but like it was supposed to happen. Like when you drop something and it breaks, that's what's supposed to happen, but it's still a big deal?
Transcribed from recording #2.
[Picks up microphone, sighs] Arnie found me a job and a place to live. I only make a few bucks an hour, and it goes to food and rent. The only "new" clothes I get is new from the second-hand store, or if Arnie gives me something.
I get horny. Everybody gets horny, I know. But my thing is leather--Arnie calls it a fetish--and leather ain't cheap. It's damn near impossible when all you can afford is a rooming house. So I'm basically Arnie's slave. Like I said, Arnie likes his privacy, so he got me the job, and found me the rooming house to stay in, and I'm free to do...whatever. But I've got this fetish thing, and Arnie says it fits right in--it's supposed to happen, like I said.
So he said we could make a deal, that whenever I'm horny, I should offer myself to him, but nobody else. He says it's to teach me self-discipline. So I agreed. [Unidentified noises]
When I get horny, I come to his loft. He has two locks on his door, and he gave me a key to one of them, and if the other one's locked, I leave. But if it's unlocked, I can get in and take all my clothes off, and there's this cage, and I lock myself in and just wait until he's ready: boots, jeans, shirt, vest, jacket, gloves. And they're all black leather. Sometimes, I clean it up with my tongue and polish it, and that makes me even hornier. Or sometimes he makes me do these exercises, like push-ups and pull-ups and he's got some weight-lifting stuff. So after a couple of hours of that, or polishing his leather, he puts leg irons on me, and makes me stand up and walk--well, more like shuffle around the room to where he's got things like this heavy chair he straps me into, or this leather sling with cuffs for my arms and legs, or this pillory for my arms and neck so I'm bent over with my butt sticking out. But I can't touch my cock, of course. I can't ever touch my cock, except in the shower and to piss. But our deal is, otherwise I can't touch it without Arnie's permission. And he makes me work for it, and the harder he makes me work for it the hotter I get.
Transcribed from recording #3.
He put a collar around my neck! He put a steel cable across his place, near the ceiling, with a chain where one end hangs from the cable and the other end is attached to the collar, so he can put me pretty much wherever he wants, like kneeling down and licking his boots, or in the chair, or even lying on my back on the floor and he sort of stands on my hands and jacks off on me. He jacks off a lot, and fucks me a lot, and like I say, I can't touch my poor cock even when it's so goddamn hard it's like it's going to split apart, or something.
He's got cuffs, too. For my wrists, you know? They're just cuffs, but they've got rings welded on to attach stuff to. He's got this wide leather belt thing he attaches the cuffs to, sometimes. And all the time he's making me lick his boots, or his crotch, or his ass. Through the pants, I mean. I get behind him and just the smell from his ass through the leather drives me up the wall--or it would, you know, except for the chains.
Transcribed from recording #4.
He's got these harnesses he puts on me. Leather straps every which way, like across my chest above my tits and below them, and over my shoulders and through my crotch. It's hard to explain, but the straps sort of go around so my cock and balls are free--not free; Arnie says they're "available." And the harnesses just fit perfect.
[Unidentified noises] He's got harnesses for my head, too. He calls them bridles, like for horses, and some of them make me drool all over, no matter what I do. [Says something unrecognizable-- demonstrating a bridle, perhaps] Some of them even lock, so even if my hands aren't locked up there's nothing I can do about the bridle.
He's got these straps to pull the bottoms of my legs against the tops, like kneeling, but with your ankles touching your butt, and straps for my arms that do sort of the same thing except hands on shoulders, so all I can do is crawl around on my knees and elbows. Sometimes I wear a bridle and he steers me around the loft with reins.
Or there's the hood--well, there's four, actually, all leather, but the one I like best fits real snug over my face except my mouth and nose and eyes so it's almost like it's part of me, like the skin on my face is leather. [Sniffs. Smelling something?] God, I love how that feels. And he lets me see it. Oh, yeah, I forgot. There's mirrors. Not everywhere, but there's these ones like in stores with the three parts so you can stand in the middle and see all yourself. Or in my case sometimes kneel in the middle.
So he's got me all harnessed up and my hands locked away, and sometimes I'm kneeling and he sits on my back and fucks me with a dildo, or puts a butt plug in and it's got these loops so he can strap it in so I can't get it out. He fucks me with his cock, too, of course.
Anyway, he can put a blindfold on the hood, which isn't much fun I don't think, or a gag--he's got a bunch of gags, all different but covered in leather--god I love that taste, you know? And this one that's got these little sort of bumps on it that stick right up by my nose so about all I can smell is the leather when he uses that one, but that's one of the things I only get when I'm good. [Turns off recorder]
[Turns on recorder] Oh--being good. That's basically doing what he wants, even if it's kind of rough, like getting paddled, or when he hangs me upside down and ties up my cock and balls. He doesn't always hang me upside down when he does that--ties up my cock and balls. And they're not actually tied up, usually. He's got harnesses just for my cock and balls, but if I'm too horny and I cum, that's one of the times he won't use the gag with the bumps and instead I get paddled or something. Or when he plays with my tits and puts clamps on them and stuff. That really can hurt, sometimes, and if I knock them off or pull the clamps loose or something like that, well that's not being good, either. But he tells me, you know, what I'm supposed to do and if I don't do it, I get punished, so that's fair, I guess.
Transcribed from recording #5.
So the thing about the torture is that...it's hard to explain, because it is torture, but it's not, sort of. Like he puts me on this table with all these straps and straps me down so I can't move at all and sometimes with one of the hoods, and he maybe drips wax on me, or he's got this little wheel thing with spikes on it that he rolls around on me, even on my cock. And there's some whips, and this willow stick he hits me with that really hurts a lot. Once, he hit my feet with the willow stick and I couldn't even walk, after, for the rest of the night.
Sometimes he tickles me until I can't breathe, and there's clamps on my tits and all over. The table has a leather cover and I can smell the leather and my sweat, after a while. I get to clean the table and the straps and everything, after. And that makes me all horny again. [Unidentified sounds--moving around the room?]
And he's got this wand thing, that sort of shocks me, and these rod things he puts up into my cock which is really tricky because I'm so goddamn horny, you know. And there's this metal butt plug, too. Part metal anyway. And he hooks the rod up and the butt plug up to this electrical thing and sometimes it feels like little ants marching around inside, and sometimes it's...I can't explain it except it hurts like hell and if I've got the big gag in, I can't scream or anything.
Or there's these rings he puts on my cock. They're electrical, too, and make it feel like he's jacking me off. And he can use these like no matter what position I'm in, like crawling on my knees and elbows, or on the table, or hanging upside down or right side up, or sometimes hanging flat, cock side up or hanging down. He says that's like milking a cow. He's got harnesses for hanging me, with rings so he can hoist me up in any position he wants, and the weird thing is it's not uncomfortable--unless he wants it to be, of course. Sometimes, it's real hard and I have to beg him to let me down. I know he will eventually, but not until he's convinced I'm really at my limit. He can tell, somehow, even when I can't.
Or there's this thing--can't remember what it's called--like a leather straitjacket but for your whole body, with sleeves on the inside so they're against your sides so you can't move your arms, and it zips up and there's laces and straps on the outside, too, so when he's all done it's like being hugged all over. With the hood it's like I'm completely wrapped up in leather. And he's got this rope thing, sort of like a hammock except it doesn't dip in the middle so you're flat when you lie in it and the thing is it's almost like you're floating in water, or something. Arnie says it's because of all the support points, he calls them. And he can spin me around so I don't know which way I am and once he let me sleep like that for a few hours-- Oh! That's what he said the leather thing was: a sleep sack. Except he doesn't usually let me actually sleep, because he can get to my mouth or there's this opening so he can get to my ass. (I think one time he had somebody else in the loft who fucked me but he said he didn't know what I was talking about, so I don't know. Sometimes I get all mixed up about what happens when, when I'm there.)
But the part--the best part, which he doesn't always do but sometimes is he leaves me all helpless and goes and takes off his pants and puts on motorcycle chaps so his cock and balls and ass are uncovered. And he's got this leather...I'm not sure what you'd call it, but I have to fold my arms and legs to get in it, so it's like I'm crawling around on my knees and elbows again, except all covered in leather that fits really snug except there's a place where he can get to my asshole. And he's got this other hood that attaches around my neck that's all leather except for these tiny holes by my nose and a bigger hole so he can fuck my mouth. He says I'm his leather animal and he tells me to eat out his ass, you know, lick it and especially in the hole until he gets hot enough, and then he fucks my face or my ass and then he jacks me off, finally, with the electrical rod and butt plug. Sometimes I already came even though I try really, really hard not to, and that's not being good, so I get some torture with this hook in my ass or a good paddling or something. Or he makes me cum again and again. Anyhow, when we're done I have to lick the leather animal skin all clean on the inside. And there's a lot of cum, by then!
Probably the worst part is after. See, I got to clean everything up before I go, and of course that makes me all horny again. Then I go back to my room and go to work and come home and all I can think about is Arnie and his place, and his gear, and what he does, and I can't touch my cock until the next time he lets me come in. I mean, I could, but that wouldn't be fair. He always asks me if I cheated, and I just know that if I did he'd know it, and then we'd never do stuff again.
It's healthy, Arnie says, because I'm learning discipline and getting stronger. It's not fair, because I don't really have a choice. It's like I'm addicted to leather and he's my dealer. [Laughs] But it's not as bad as smoking.