My Leather Daddy
by Criggums
I'm a leather daddy. I wrote this story from the point of view of my boy. Although this particular story is fiction, the way it unfolds, the things that happen in it, the attitudes, and actions - all of those things are real, and things I enjoy with my boys quite often. Believe it or not, a good boy is hard to find. :)
I suppose there is some kind of race memory embedded inside of humans that causes us to key in on particular themes and ideas. Take leather and authority, for example. I recognized the elements of the leather lifestyle from an early age, without having to read about it or be taught by others. I just knew.
Past life? Perhaps. All I know is when I see a real man - I mean a REAL man - one who has the attitude and confidence of a leader, a master, a SIR - I have an intense desire to get close to him in some way. Just a look from him, acknowledging I exist can be enough to make me happy. To be allowed to serve him, touch him, or get any of his attention is far more than I can even hope for.
The man I call "Daddy" is such a man. I saw him for the first time in the local leather and denim bar. It was a Friday evening. I rarely go to such places, as it seldom results in anything satisfactory in the way of meeting men, or even just having good sex. But this evening I was particularly lonely, and needy, and hoping that I might beat the odds never in my favor.
I got there early, before the crowd really arrived. I bought a bottle of lite beer and took a seat on a rough wooden bench in a dark corner, watching the door as all manner of men walked in over a period of a few hours. Perhaps I looked away, or was distracted by some disturbance at the pool table. When my eyes swept across the front of the bar, they immediately froze upon him. I hadn't seen him walk in. It was as if he just appeared.
Back to that race memory thing; there are patterns programmed into some of us, at least into me, that are fitted as if to some psychological key. And when that key is present, it's as if an electric jolt passes through me and a circuit is completed. The image of this man was like that for me. I saw him. Knew him. Was his before we met.
So hard to describe. He was a big man. Tall, muscular, tan. A tightly trimmed beard followed the rugged outline of his jaw. He wore simple black workboots, jeans, and a leather vest with a dark colored baseball cap. He was chatting idly with the bartender, drinking what looked to be straight whiskey. After a moment, I realized he was also holding a lit cigar, and smoke escape his lips as he chuckled at some remark the barkeep had made.
I took all of this in over what may have been 10 or 15 seconds, but I'm sure I was open mouthed and bug-eyed for that entire time. Lucky for me I was in a dark corner and not conspicuous. I could only imagine what kind of reaction this man might have if he caught me gawking. The worst would be no reaction, or disdain. I realized I had a chance to plan an approach to him that would at least get him to speak to me. Just that would be enough for me to go home and jack off to for weeks on end.
Gathering up courage, I casually strolled out of the shadows and over to the bar, sitting down at the empty stool to his left.
"What'll you have, bud?" the barkeep yelled at me over the distorted blaring of techno music.
"Bourbon. On the rocks."
He nodded, quickly filled a tumbler with cubes and the amber liquid, and set it down in front of me.
"Four-fifty," he said. I plopped a five on the counter and picked up the glass.
I like bourbon. It's a man's drink, and apparently the leather stud to my right agreed. He turned slightly in my direction, holding his own glass to his lips before leaning over and saying, "Nothing like a good bourbon to loosen you up, is there, son?"
Shit! That electric jolt again! Being called "son" no matter how informally by this man was enough to practically bring on an orgasm. I'm sure it showed in my face, and I'm sure he noticed. He chuckled softly.
His voice was deep, resonant, and had a slight southern drawl without coming off as backward or ignorant. I turned toward him, with downcast eyes. I found myself looking at the top of his unbuttoned shirt, tufts of dark brown chest hair pushing its away through the V-shaped opening. He took a draw on the cigar, and let the smoke lazily escape down the front of his body, past my bowed head.
"Yes sir," I said loud enough so that he could hear. "I always enjoy a good, stiff drink, sir."
"Me, too, boy. Here. Try this." He handed me his glass, and I knew that he intended me to sip from it, which I did. I don't know what it was, but it was far more stout than what I was having. I coughed and spluttered, some of it going onto his chest and shirt. He laugh.
"Can't take that one, boy? Heh heh... Can't say that there are many men who can. I'm one of the few that orders it here. Daniel here," he motioned to the bartender, "keeps a bottle around just for me, don't you, Daniel?"
"Yes, SIR! That's your personal bottle, SIR. No one else get's that, SIR!" said Daniel, putting emphasis on the word "SIR" as if it were in all capital letters. It was obvious Daniel held this man in high regard, and showed him the utmost respect.
"Daniel's a good boy. He knows how to please his Daddy, don't you, boy?"
"Yes, SIR. Any chance I'm given, SIR! You just tell me how, and I'm on it, SIR!" said Daniel, with a broad grin and a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
"Later, then, son. Daddy will need a good cocksucker in just a bit, and you might get lucky. That is, unless I've got other boys who need it more than you," he said, leaning in close to me.
I could feel his breath on my neck, and the heat from his torso was like a warm fire on my clothed body. "What about you, son? You need some daddy cock?" His tongue flicked out and touched my ear lobe, then he turned again to a neutral position over his drink, taking another draw on the cigar.
I didn't move. Of course I needed his cock. I hadn't seen it and I already knew I was its willing slave. But I was frozen. Frightened at what might happen to me if I gave in to this man's passions. He could be very rough, abusive, even dangerous. But I knew that if he wanted me, he would have me. I could never refuse any command he gave me now.
"I asked you a question, son," he said flatly as he took a big sip of his whiskey.
"Yes....yes, SIR. I need YOUR cock, SIR. I can't think of anything else right now, SIR. I'm sorry, SIR," I stammered.
He didn't immediately acknowledge that he had heard me. I raised my head to look at him, only to find him looking directly at me, with an impassive expression. His blue eyes sparkled in the dim bar light. Our eyes locked for what seemed like many minutes, though it was just a second or so. Then he spoke.
"It's a big cock, son. I like it sucked long and hard. My boys take my cum either in their mouth, or up their ass. My choice, son. Not yours. I take my pleasure the way I see fit, and your job is to give me what I want. Period. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
I thought about it. I could imagine his huge cock in my mouth, me on my knees, him towering above me, slowly thrusting it in and out between my lips. Flash forward to me on all fours, with my Daddy's cock buried in my tight ass, plunging in and out while he grunts in satisfaction at the pleasure he receives. I would give anything to be slave to this man's cock.
"Yes, SIR. I fully understand what is required, SIR, and I am ready and willing to service you as your boy tonight, and any night." It sounded a bit formal, perhaps even stilted. But it seemed right for the occasion. This man was deserving of formality and utmost respect. I wanted him to be proud of me, and of the way I treated him.
"Good boy. I like that answer, son. Finish your drink and we'll leave. When we leave, you are to walk behind me and to the left of me - never at my side or in front of me. Understood?"
"Understood, SIR."
I gulped down the last of my bourbon, and it burned as it passed down my throat. The sensation presaged what having this man's penis take control of my mouth would be like, and I felt my own erection forming at the thought.
He got up, leaned over the bar and grabbed Daniel by the back of the neck, pulled him forward and whispered in his ear, then kissed him on the forhead before releasing him and getting up from the stool. I followed him as instructed, one pace behind, on his left side.
In the parking lot, he walked quickly and with purpose toward a large black pickup truck. It was massive, and befitting of a man of his stature. He opened the driver side door and turned to me.
"In," he said, gesturing with his finger that I should jump in. I did, scrambling across the bench seat to the passenger side as he hoisted himself deftly into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. As part of the same motion, the key was in the ignition and the big vehicle came to life, throbbing with power that somehow seemed as if it was part of him.
I didn't know what to do or say, so I remained quiet and motionless in the darkened cab. He threaded his was through the parking lot and onto the city street. I saw my own car in the parking lot as we sped away, and I began to wonder if I had made a bad decision. For all I knew, this man could hurt me, even kill me, and no one would know about it. But my core being dismissed these thoughts. I knew without doubt that whatever this man was, he was not evil. Stern, commanding, authoritative, arrogant, even selfish, yes. But overall he was not to be feared, just worshipped.
I was mulling these thoughts, somewhat lost with regard to the situation, when he brought me back to reality by placing his hand on the back of my neck, just as he had done with the boy tending the bar. He massaged my neck, putting pressure on the muscles, relaxing me, melting me emotionally. I realized we had left the city on a dark two-lane highway; I wasn't really sure where we were.
He stopped the massage, and pulled me gently but firmly in his direction. "Lay your head in my lap, boy, and nuzzle at my crotch. Learn what your Daddy smells like, son."
I did as instructed. There was plenty of room between the bottom of the massive steering wheel and the well worn denim that covered his lap and crotch. At first I tentatively nudged and sniffed. The smell was musky; a mixture of sweat, cigar, leather, denim, bourbon, and piss. It was so intoxicating I found myself pressing my nose harder and harder into the rough fabric. And then I felt it.
Something stirred. Something was coming to life. I knew it was his penis, but it was difficult not to think of it as some kind of animal, waking up to see what prey was rustling around outside its cave. I continued pressing and nuzzling as my Daddy's cock got harder beneath his jeans. It was truly massive!
"Damn, son. You've woken him up, now. And it's goddamned tight in there. Let him out, boy Slowly."
As he continued to drive, I lay there with my head up against his strong, firm abdomen, while I used my right hand to loosen his black leather belt, the button on his jeans, and slowly pull the zipper down. Immediately some of the pressure inside was released as the bulge of white briefs emerged through the new opening, a pulsating python inside of it.
"Loosen up my underwear and pull my cock out, boy. Let it breath a bit."
I worked the fabric of his jeans and briefs to allow his massive half-erect dick to come out. The smell suddenly intensified, and I found the hot, slightly sticky flesh of his cock's head bouncing on my cheek. I just looked at it in awe.
What an incredible cock my Daddy had! A perfect mushroom head on a thick 8 inch shaft. It was fully erect now, standing just centimeters from my lips, awaiting my attention. I started to moan and whimper.
"What is is, boy?"
"Oh, SIR. Your cock, SIR! It's so beautiful! So incredible, SIR! May I suck your cock, SIR? Please, SIR?"
"Not yet, boy. Just sniff it and touch it with your hand. Get to know it before I make you suck it."
His cock was like steel beneath my fingers. Several large veins spanned its length from base to just below the head. It throbbed with heat and virility. My moans increased.
"SIR! PLEASE! Oh, god, Daddy, I have to suck your cock, SIR! Please let me, SIR! PLEASE!"
I was sobbing. I was crying. I was so overwhelmed by the masculinity of his proud, strong cock that I was in a frenzy to have it inside of my mouth. Again I felt his hand at the back of my neck.
"Ok, boy. I've teased you enough. Suck him, son. Nice and slow."
I took his manly cock tentatively into my mouth at first. It was so huge, I was unsure if I could even get my lips around it. But In a moment all of my concerns were forgotten as I became lost in the sheer ecstacy of having this incredible man's cock in my mouth.
It was hard as steel, yet had a softness - a suppleness - to it that comforted me and gave me strength. I felt I was connected to some vast source of power that could fill me with unending amounts of life and vitality. My daddy's cock pulsed as I sucked it. I felt it grow even harder, if that was possible.
"Good boy," he said in a low, growling and approving voice. "You know how to suck your daddy, don't you, son."
"Yes, SIR!" I said, but it probably sounded like "Weee wewah" since his manly member was completely taking up the space in my mouth.
And so we continued driving down the dark country road, my daddy smoking his incredibly sexy cigar as he drove his fuckin' hot pickup truck, with my head buried in his lap and his cock deep in my throat. I wanted things to stay that way forever, and would have been quite happy if they had.
After about 30 minutes, the pace of the motor changed, and I noticed we were turning off the road.
"Get up, son," my incredible daddy said. I obeyed and let his hot cock slip from my mouth as I straightened up in my seat next to him. Having lost the feeling of his incredible penis in my mouth, I was a bit downcast, but the change of the vehichle's direction caught my interest.
We had taken a side road, one that was unpaved - only gravel served as a surface for the mammoth truck to travel upon. I could see it winding ahead of us through the trees in the twin beams of the pickup's headlights.
After a few minutes we stopped in front of a single house. It was more of a cabin. No lights surrounded it. Simple. Plain. He turned the engine off.
"Out," he said, simply, as he opened his door and pulled me toward it. I followed.
"It isn't a palace, boy, but it's enough for a man like me. And it's all a boy needs, as well."
He approached the front door, inserted his key, opened it, and flipped on an overhead light.
The interior was what I expected. Simple. Musty. Far from "well appointed." But it was all man. Shotguns on a rack on the wall. A basic couch and recliner. A bar separated this area from the kitchen, and it was stocked with the same brand of whiskey my incredible daddy had been drinking when I met him. He strode over to the bar, picked up two tumblers, filled them with cubes of ice from a mini-freezer nearby, and poured some of the manly liquid into them.
Handing one of the tumblers to me, he said simply "Drink."
I did. It burned. Again I spluttered, as I had at the bar. He came over to me, lifted the glass to my lips. "All of it, boy. NOW!"
It was going down easier now. My daddy neatly tipped his glass and took all of his shot in one easy gulp. Then he took both our glasses and refilled them.
"And this," he said, shoving the refreshed glass into my face. I didn't hesitate this time, and obediently took all of the liquid into my mouth, swallowing it with less difficulty this time. He swigged his as if it were water.
"Good boy," he said. "You're learning how to drink a real man's drink son. I'm proud of ya!"
I felt a warm glow flood through me. Not just the whiskey, but the fact that he had complimented me - made me feel as if I had won an olympic medal.
"Alright, son," he said in a low, almost menacing tone. "Time for you to get to meet your daddy's cock for real. You need to suck and be fucked by me, boy. You're going to become my plaything tonight. And if I like you, I'll have you everynight if that's what the fuck I want. Understand, son?"
He ambled over to me, towering above me. With my head bowed, I said simply, "Yes, SIR. I'm your boy, SIR. I want to be everything you want and need me to be, SIR. Please use me as you see fit."
Again, it may seem stilted, but when I said it then and there, it was absolutely appropriate. And he seemed to approve.
"You did a good job sucking my cock in the truck, boy. I like that. Daddy likes his cock being sucked while he enjoyes a good cigar. I'm going to have another one now, and sit over here in my big fuckin' leather chair. You, boy. You get naked and on your knees, and be ready to take care of my needs."
He went to a small side table, opened a drawer and removed a humidor. From this he retrieved a long, fat cigar.
"Gurkah," he said, referring to the brand. "Strong, long, and fuckin' hot. I smoke these when I'm preparing to fuck a good, tight ass."
With that, he brought out a lighter and brought the cigar to life. It was indeed a man's cigar, and the smell was strong and pungent, as he had warned. He lit a few candles on the bar, and flipped off the overhead light. A soft glow permeated the room.
Meanwhile, I had taken my clothing off and tossed it aside, and was standing in the middle of the room. He advanced toward me, taking long draws of the big cigar and letting off incredibly dense clouds of smoke that wreathed around him as if he were some devlish entity. Finally, he stood right in front of me and let go a big billow of cigar smoke into my face and chest.
"Down on your knees, boy. NOW!" He said the last work with such force, it was like a yell, but with incredible authority. I found myself on my knees without even thinking about it.
"Loosen the laces on my boots, boy. You're going to take them off for a moment and set them aside."
I worked the laces as he looked down from upon high. I could see his face in the glow of the cherry of the cigar. His expression was flat. Even. Noncomittal. He was watching me. Assessing me. I finally had the boots loose. He lifted each foot enough for me to remove them one affter the other. I set them aside.
"Pull these jeans down and off of me, then replace my boots, boy."
I followed these instructions to the letter. Soon, my daddy stood before me in his glorious boots, incredible thighs and calves in full view with a fucking huge cock and balls swinging between them. I was salivating. He took off the ball cap. He temporarily removed the leather vest to take off the shirt, and replaced the vest. Then, from a shelf behind the leather recliner, he fetched a leather master's cap with silver trim on the brim, and placed it on his head.
There he stood before me. A muscular, cigar smoking, leather daddy. His face was bearded and gorgeous. His eyes were steely and commanding. His cock was semi-hard, and I knew it was my job to please it if I could. He swaggered over to his leather chair and sat in it as if it were a throne.
"Suck me."
It was a simple command, and I obeyed instantly. I crawled before his chair as he continued to slowly smoke his incredibly manly cigar. He also had his tumbler of whiskey at the table to his side, which he sipped on from time to time.
"That's right, boy. Suck daddy's cock. You know you need my cock, son. And you're going to suck it for a long, long time. I'll come when I'm good and damn ready. And when I do, you're going to take my huge fuckin' load, aren't you, boy."
It wasn't a question. It was another command. I grunted my acknowledgement as I took his beautiful mancock into my mouth. As my tongue played across the ridge of his glans, I looked up to see my daddy in all his manly glory. Shit! What an incredible specimen! Rugged. Strong. Sure. Confident. Commanding. Yet nurturing and warm at the same time. I wanted to give myself to him so completely that I would never again be able to service another man than he.
As I sucked his massive member, I began to moan and whimper. The import of the situation was beginning to really sink in. Here I was, a relative wimp - a nobody - a puny little class C punk - servicing a true Alpha Male. Why me? Why did he give me this opportunity? He could, and probably did, have any boy he damn well pleased. Yet he was giving me the privilege of servicing him tonight.
I couldn't fathom his logic. And I didn't care. I was the one who had won the lottery tonight, and I was going to make an impression. If I did a good job, perhaps he would have me again. Maybe he would make me one of his regulars. To have an incredible daddy like him call on me even once a month to come and service his needs would be sufficient to make me happy for the rest of my life.
"Good boy. That feels mighty fine, son. I can tell you want your daddy's cock."
And he was right. I wanted his cock, and nothing else. I wanted to make love to my daddy's dick so that it knew I was the best boy there was, and that it would get no better service from anyone else than me. I sucked it, licked it, carressed it, and poured all of my energy and attention into it. It responded with incredible hardness. Pulsing. Oozing precum. Twitching.
Every so often, my daddy would encourage more. "Very good, boy. You're sucking cock like a pro, and I should know. I've had plenty of cocksuckers try to please this man's big dick, and you're in the top percentile. I'll have to make sure I get to you often. Good cocksuckers are hard to find, boy."
It went on like that for a long, long time. Periodically, my daddy would let me rest, and I would lay may cheek against his massive thigh while he stroked the back of my neck with his massive hand. Sometimes he would alter the command, telling me to suck or lick his balls, which I did with relish. But I was always, always interested in getting back to his dick. It glistened in the low light with my spit.
After what seemed like days,but was probably only a few hours, he changed the rhythm of his urgings. He become more demanding. More emphatic. The tone of his voice changed and became sharper.
"That's right, boy. Suck that big cock. Suck 'im, son! You've called up a big fuckin' load, and now you're gonna have to swallow it, boy. SUCK ME, GODAMMIT!"
I increased the frequency and intensity of my sucking. I suddently realized that his hand was moving my head back and forth from his crotch, and that his pelvis was thrusting in concert as he fucked my face. I was no longer in control. This man had taken my head in his hands and was using it to pleasure himself. I could only relax and let him use me.
And use me he did. The fucking and thrusting picked up pace. His breathing and groaning also quickened. I could feel the big head of his cock plugging the airway at the back of my throat and I wasn't sure I could breathe. Yet, somehow I managed to. I would do anything not to upset the incredible climax my daddy was obviously building to.
"Here it comes, son. TAKE MY BIG FUCKIN' LOAD, BOY!" With a yell, his body went into spasms. His hand tightened on the back of my next, freezing me into position with his cock deep in my throat. I could feel hot, viscous spurts of semen pouring into me. I was afraid I might gag, but he continued to pump soon after, and more spurts of cum ejaculated from his wonderful dick. I swallowed the salty, thick juice. It had a wholesome flavor. What was even more strange: I could feel an energy, almost a heat, pass from the tip of his cock into my body, as if he were passing on to me some of his male energy. It was euphoric. It was intoxicating. For a few moments, I must have felt what it was like to be an incredible man like him. I felt his energy, his virility, his essence of manhood as it flooded into my being.
At last his thrusting began to subside and he soon relaxed in the big leather chair. Through it all, he had continued smoking his cigar. He pulled it to his lips and took another long draw, letting the smoke out in a long, slow stream.
"Whew!" he said. "Just what I needed boy! You took that fuckin' load like an experienced cocksucker. You sucked much daddy cock, boy?"
"No, SIR. Not really, SIR. Not like YOURS, SIR!" I said truthfully. "Your cock is a pure joy to suck, and I can only hope you will let me do it again soon, SIR!"
And I meant it. Now that his cock had been removed from my mouth, I felt empty. I needed the comfort of this strong man's dick buried in my mouth. I had to have it to feel safe, secure, and loved.
"Hmmm. Well, I supposed it just took the right man to bring it out, hmm?" he said, looking down at me as he smoked, and winked at me.
"Yes, SIR. You're a fucking god, SIR. I want to always be yours and service your big fuckin' cock."
He looked at me with that blank, evaluating expression for several seconds as he pulled more pleasure from the cigar. As he let more of the smoke out of the corners of his lips, he smiled and said simply, "I think that's a high probability. Starting with tonight. You're not done, son. Not by a long shot. Go through that door," he motioned with his eyes, "and get into my bed. Wait for me there. I'll be along in a minute. You'll sleep with me tonight. Around 4 AM or so, I'll need to fuck you. Just be ready to yield up your ass and give me what I want. After that, we'll see if I have need of your services in the future, son. I'm always looking for good boys. I've got a stable of them, but it's always good to add to the stock."
I brightened at the prospect. Sure, there might be others, but to be just one of them was more than I could have ever hoped for.
"Yes, SIR. I'll wait for you in your bed, SIR, and I'll be available for your pleasure, SIR, in whatever way you wish. I only want to be your boy. That's all I want now. That's all I'll ever want, now."
THE END