This is a short story that I wrote, involving leather bondage. It proved to be a bit long. So, I have divided it into 3 parts. It comes with the usual disclaimers: Contains adult material of an erotic nature, as well as unsafe practices and less-than-consensual play. It is meant for entertainment purposes only.
Table of content
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Chad’s ego knew no bounds. He considered himself to be the World’s gift to women. Born to an upper-middle-class family, he had wanted for nothing. In highschool, he had become captain of the football team—the premiere alpha male. He had the perfect body, the perfect hair, the perfect jaw... Add to this, ample finances and plenty of the right connections.
However, he had managed to squander all of it. He treated everyone like dirt—lovers and friends alike. In his eyes, the entire world was beneath him. He saw intimate relationships as little more than military campaigns—a great tally of conquests and body counts. The feelings of potential partners were nothing but inconveniences.
Now, as Chad neared the age of thirty, dates and pick-ups were becoming a rarity. Women had outgrown his abrasive and narcissistic personality. Still, he refused to change his attitude. It did not matter how many drinks were thrown in his face. He would all-but-demand that they sleep with him.
Eventually, all of Chad’s friends had moved-on. Yet, just as he appeared to be on his own, he received a curious invitation to a cocktail-party. Everyone knew that he loathed such events. He saw them as tediously boring—“The same boring people, having the same boring conversations.” Little did he know, that this particular evening would be different. This night, She would be at that party.
She was tall and slim, yet voluptuous, in an athletic way. Her white blouse, unbuttoned just far enough to show cleavage, accentuated her dark, olive skin. Her straight, jet-black hair flowed down her back, nearly to her waist. The shine on her skin-tight, black-leather pants highlighted every curve of her hips and thighs. Her gleaming, black, stiletto boots were cuffed just above the knee. And, her hands were almost magical in those tight, black, kid gloves.
Chad could not take his eyes off of this mysterious lady. He had never had trouble talking to women. Yet, this goddess had him speechless. He tried to forget her, and tell himself that she was out of his league. Still, every time that she moved, his eyes were immediately drawn to her. There was something about the assertive way that she carried herself.
Toward the end of the evening, she suddenly walked over and sat down next to him—uncomfortably close. With a firm, yet soft tone, she spoke into his ear, “I’ve seen you watching me.” Her voice was deep and sultry. “You like what you see?” Chad was transfixed, unable to speak. “You know, men who stare at me too much, end up paying the price!”, she whispered, while dragging her leathered forefinger down the inside of Chad’s thigh. Chad squirmed and stared in disbelief. Her voice now took-on a more playful tone. “Let’s go somewhere and have some fun. I promise you a night that you’ll never forget!” With that, she took his hand, and began leading him toward the door.
It was a miracle that Chad kept his car on the road, as he followed her taillights. Her beauty and extreme confidence had him intoxicated. They drove to the edge of town, and into the hills—finally pulling up to a large house with elaborate 1920’s architecture. The nearest neighbor was almost a quarter-mile away.
“It’s only a four bedroom”, she remarked, as she unlocked the massive oak-and glass front door. The rooms may have been few, but, they were also huge. She led Chad to her upstairs bedroom, which was larger than most living rooms. The décor was done in shades of red and beige, with accents of black. A single table lamp bathed the room in a warm glow. The centerpiece was a king-size canopy bed, whose sturdy, ornate, oak posts had large, polished, brass rings mounted at regular heights. There were also brass rings bolted to the floor, by the foot of each post. This last feature should have grabbed Chad’s attention. But, he was too busy thinking about the pleasant aching in his groin.
“Why don’t you get undressed, while I change?” She gently pushed him to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. Chad could not shed his clothes quickly enough. In a sudden attack of politeness, he decided to push his things into a neat little pile. He was sitting on the bed, buck naked, when the lady of mystery emerged from her adjoining dressing room. She was now in a sheer black negligee, with long, shiny, black-kid opera gloves that reached nearly to her armpits. Were these the same gloves that she had been wearing at the party? The sleeves of her blouse had hidden their length.
She was carrying a small, black duffel bag, which she set on the bed. “Just some incidentals”, she reassured Chad, as she sat down next to him. She took his hands into hers, and began to look deeply into his eyes. As they exchanged glances, Chad could feel her massaging his hands. Or, was she?
Suddenly, he felt an odd tugging at his wrists. His hands became cramped, and he recoiled. “Wha... wha... What the..?", he stammered. He stared at his hands, which had been forced into a pair of tight black-leather bondage mitts. The tug had been the cinching of the straps at his wrists. He tried to bat at the buckles with hands that were now helplessly pinned into fists. But, his mysterious companion stopped him—grabbing the D-rings that protruded from the fronts of the mitts. “Nuh, uh!”, she whispered, as she gently shook her head. Chad watched in horror, as she pulled two small padlocks from her bag, and locked the wrist buckles.
“Come”, she said—standing, and pulling on the D-rings. Despite this cue, Chad remained seated. She jerked at the rings, as her voice became more stern. “You’re not gonna defy me, are you?” She again pulled on the rings, to remind Chad who held the keys to his captive hands. Dutifully, he rose, and followed her to the foot of the bed.
She turned him around, so that he was facing one of the bedposts. “Raise your hands!”, she commanded. Chad raised his arms, as he would in a robbery. “No...UP!”, she barked. Chad stretched toward the sky, as the woman stepped onto a short stool. Reaching up, she clipped the rings on Chad’s mitts to the highest brass ring on the bedpost.
Chad’s situation had gone from bad, to worse. “Who are you?! What is this?!” He jerked at his mitts, in a futile attempt to free himself.
In response, she slapped him across the face with her gloved hand. The leather stung more than her bare palm would have. “From now on, you will speak only when spoken-to!” There was a brief pause. “Better yet...”, she mumbled, as she reached into her satchel—producing a formidable-looking head harness with a ball gag. With on hand, she pinched Chad’s nose closed. When he opened his mouth to breathe, the ball was abruptly shoved between his teeth. In a flash, she was tightening the straps behind his head—giving them aggressive jerks, to remind Chad of his new position. She pulled four more small padlocks from her bag, and held them up for Chad to see. Chad shook his head and tried to rock his shoulders in defiance. This only resulted in another slap, and the gag harness was still locked.
The woman now stepped back, to admire her naked prize. She examined the muscles, the trim waist, the tan lines, and the enormous erect cock. “We’ll have to do something about that, as well.” She left the room, and returned with an ice pack. This frigid pack was pressed against Chad’s offending member, until it no longer stood at attention. Chad grimaced in pain and shock. He wanted to see what was she was doing. But, with his arms pulled tightly above him, he could not lower his head. She continued to freeze his penis, until it had almost crawled-up inside of him.
With that, she produced a small leather cinch-sack—one that could not hold anything larger than a tennis ball. In place of a drawstring, it had a thin leather strap, with eyelets and a post. Chad’s genitals were forced into this small leather sack, as the strap was cinched and padlocked behind his balls. The look in Chad’s eyes was no longer one of defiance. It had become more of a pathetic plea.
She again strutted around him, admiring her handiwork. “Now, to answer your questions, which were so rudely spoken out-of-turn. I am known to many as ‘Mistress Celine’. But, you will simply refer to me as Mistress! I am a professional Domina—what you vanillas would call a ‘dominatrix’.” She could see the fear in Chad’s eyes. So, she calmed him with a gloved caress of his shoulders and upper back. “Don’t worry. No harm will come to you. And no, I’m not going to bill you for this. I am off the clock. It is just you and me, having a little fun!”
Mistress Celine sat on the bed in front of Chad. Her sheer, black negligee did little to conceal her gorgeous breasts and dark nipples. Chad could not look away, as she again spoke. “Or, if you wish, you can leave right now. Just let me know, and you will be released. I would normally suggest a ‘safe-word’.” She laughed, as she playfully touched Chad’s gag. “But, right now, it would appear that words are beyond your means.”
Standing, she and again strutted back-and-forth around Chad. “Of course, you could blink at me really fast, like this.” She gave a quick demonstration. “Or, you could rattle your bonds in short bursts, like Morse Code. Just give the signal. I’ll get the message. You can be on your way, and we will never see each other again. Only one chance to a customer.” She now placed her gloved hands on his shoulders, and whispered into his ear. Her breath was sweet. “Or, you can remain here, as my slave! You may find delights beyond your wildest dreams.”
Chad could feel his arousal returning. His throbbing member began demanding room to grow. But, the tightly-locked leather sack proved unyielding. The pain in his leathered genitalia became unbearable. Yet, in a way, it was almost pleasurable. What was he thinking? His arousal was only magnified by the soft, leathered hands now stroking his sides and naked buttocks. The more his cock strained painfully against its leather prison, the more he became aroused. Unconsciously, he began to sway and buck his hips. Mistress cupped her hand on one his writhing butt cheeks, and allowed that hand to go along for the ride.
“Well?”, she asked, her tone sounding slightly annoyed. As much as Chad wanted, he could not demand release. What spell did this woman have on him? “Do you wish to go, or not?” The writhing of his hips gradually stopped, and he no longer tugged at the mitts that imprisoned his hands. “No?” Chad’s body now slumped, in a sign of sad resignation. “Good”, Mistress said, “We can begin.”
(This post was last modified: 12 Mar 2025, 02:42 by Like Ra.)
Table of content
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Chattel
by Obsidian
Part 1: The Pickup
Chad’s ego knew no bounds. He considered himself to be the World’s gift to women. Born to an upper-middle-class family, he had wanted for nothing. In highschool, he had become captain of the football team—the premiere alpha male. He had the perfect body, the perfect hair, the perfect jaw... Add to this, ample finances and plenty of the right connections.
However, he had managed to squander all of it. He treated everyone like dirt—lovers and friends alike. In his eyes, the entire world was beneath him. He saw intimate relationships as little more than military campaigns—a great tally of conquests and body counts. The feelings of potential partners were nothing but inconveniences.
Now, as Chad neared the age of thirty, dates and pick-ups were becoming a rarity. Women had outgrown his abrasive and narcissistic personality. Still, he refused to change his attitude. It did not matter how many drinks were thrown in his face. He would all-but-demand that they sleep with him.
Eventually, all of Chad’s friends had moved-on. Yet, just as he appeared to be on his own, he received a curious invitation to a cocktail-party. Everyone knew that he loathed such events. He saw them as tediously boring—“The same boring people, having the same boring conversations.” Little did he know, that this particular evening would be different. This night, She would be at that party.
She was tall and slim, yet voluptuous, in an athletic way. Her white blouse, unbuttoned just far enough to show cleavage, accentuated her dark, olive skin. Her straight, jet-black hair flowed down her back, nearly to her waist. The shine on her skin-tight, black-leather pants highlighted every curve of her hips and thighs. Her gleaming, black, stiletto boots were cuffed just above the knee. And, her hands were almost magical in those tight, black, kid gloves.
Chad could not take his eyes off of this mysterious lady. He had never had trouble talking to women. Yet, this goddess had him speechless. He tried to forget her, and tell himself that she was out of his league. Still, every time that she moved, his eyes were immediately drawn to her. There was something about the assertive way that she carried herself.
Toward the end of the evening, she suddenly walked over and sat down next to him—uncomfortably close. With a firm, yet soft tone, she spoke into his ear, “I’ve seen you watching me.” Her voice was deep and sultry. “You like what you see?” Chad was transfixed, unable to speak. “You know, men who stare at me too much, end up paying the price!”, she whispered, while dragging her leathered forefinger down the inside of Chad’s thigh. Chad squirmed and stared in disbelief. Her voice now took-on a more playful tone. “Let’s go somewhere and have some fun. I promise you a night that you’ll never forget!” With that, she took his hand, and began leading him toward the door.
It was a miracle that Chad kept his car on the road, as he followed her taillights. Her beauty and extreme confidence had him intoxicated. They drove to the edge of town, and into the hills—finally pulling up to a large house with elaborate 1920’s architecture. The nearest neighbor was almost a quarter-mile away.
“It’s only a four bedroom”, she remarked, as she unlocked the massive oak-and glass front door. The rooms may have been few, but, they were also huge. She led Chad to her upstairs bedroom, which was larger than most living rooms. The décor was done in shades of red and beige, with accents of black. A single table lamp bathed the room in a warm glow. The centerpiece was a king-size canopy bed, whose sturdy, ornate, oak posts had large, polished, brass rings mounted at regular heights. There were also brass rings bolted to the floor, by the foot of each post. This last feature should have grabbed Chad’s attention. But, he was too busy thinking about the pleasant aching in his groin.
“Why don’t you get undressed, while I change?” She gently pushed him to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. Chad could not shed his clothes quickly enough. In a sudden attack of politeness, he decided to push his things into a neat little pile. He was sitting on the bed, buck naked, when the lady of mystery emerged from her adjoining dressing room. She was now in a sheer black negligee, with long, shiny, black-kid opera gloves that reached nearly to her armpits. Were these the same gloves that she had been wearing at the party? The sleeves of her blouse had hidden their length.
She was carrying a small, black duffel bag, which she set on the bed. “Just some incidentals”, she reassured Chad, as she sat down next to him. She took his hands into hers, and began to look deeply into his eyes. As they exchanged glances, Chad could feel her massaging his hands. Or, was she?
Suddenly, he felt an odd tugging at his wrists. His hands became cramped, and he recoiled. “Wha... wha... What the..?", he stammered. He stared at his hands, which had been forced into a pair of tight black-leather bondage mitts. The tug had been the cinching of the straps at his wrists. He tried to bat at the buckles with hands that were now helplessly pinned into fists. But, his mysterious companion stopped him—grabbing the D-rings that protruded from the fronts of the mitts. “Nuh, uh!”, she whispered, as she gently shook her head. Chad watched in horror, as she pulled two small padlocks from her bag, and locked the wrist buckles.
“Come”, she said—standing, and pulling on the D-rings. Despite this cue, Chad remained seated. She jerked at the rings, as her voice became more stern. “You’re not gonna defy me, are you?” She again pulled on the rings, to remind Chad who held the keys to his captive hands. Dutifully, he rose, and followed her to the foot of the bed.
She turned him around, so that he was facing one of the bedposts. “Raise your hands!”, she commanded. Chad raised his arms, as he would in a robbery. “No...UP!”, she barked. Chad stretched toward the sky, as the woman stepped onto a short stool. Reaching up, she clipped the rings on Chad’s mitts to the highest brass ring on the bedpost.
Chad’s situation had gone from bad, to worse. “Who are you?! What is this?!” He jerked at his mitts, in a futile attempt to free himself.
In response, she slapped him across the face with her gloved hand. The leather stung more than her bare palm would have. “From now on, you will speak only when spoken-to!” There was a brief pause. “Better yet...”, she mumbled, as she reached into her satchel—producing a formidable-looking head harness with a ball gag. With on hand, she pinched Chad’s nose closed. When he opened his mouth to breathe, the ball was abruptly shoved between his teeth. In a flash, she was tightening the straps behind his head—giving them aggressive jerks, to remind Chad of his new position. She pulled four more small padlocks from her bag, and held them up for Chad to see. Chad shook his head and tried to rock his shoulders in defiance. This only resulted in another slap, and the gag harness was still locked.
The woman now stepped back, to admire her naked prize. She examined the muscles, the trim waist, the tan lines, and the enormous erect cock. “We’ll have to do something about that, as well.” She left the room, and returned with an ice pack. This frigid pack was pressed against Chad’s offending member, until it no longer stood at attention. Chad grimaced in pain and shock. He wanted to see what was she was doing. But, with his arms pulled tightly above him, he could not lower his head. She continued to freeze his penis, until it had almost crawled-up inside of him.
With that, she produced a small leather cinch-sack—one that could not hold anything larger than a tennis ball. In place of a drawstring, it had a thin leather strap, with eyelets and a post. Chad’s genitals were forced into this small leather sack, as the strap was cinched and padlocked behind his balls. The look in Chad’s eyes was no longer one of defiance. It had become more of a pathetic plea.
She again strutted around him, admiring her handiwork. “Now, to answer your questions, which were so rudely spoken out-of-turn. I am known to many as ‘Mistress Celine’. But, you will simply refer to me as Mistress! I am a professional Domina—what you vanillas would call a ‘dominatrix’.” She could see the fear in Chad’s eyes. So, she calmed him with a gloved caress of his shoulders and upper back. “Don’t worry. No harm will come to you. And no, I’m not going to bill you for this. I am off the clock. It is just you and me, having a little fun!”
Mistress Celine sat on the bed in front of Chad. Her sheer, black negligee did little to conceal her gorgeous breasts and dark nipples. Chad could not look away, as she again spoke. “Or, if you wish, you can leave right now. Just let me know, and you will be released. I would normally suggest a ‘safe-word’.” She laughed, as she playfully touched Chad’s gag. “But, right now, it would appear that words are beyond your means.”
Standing, she and again strutted back-and-forth around Chad. “Of course, you could blink at me really fast, like this.” She gave a quick demonstration. “Or, you could rattle your bonds in short bursts, like Morse Code. Just give the signal. I’ll get the message. You can be on your way, and we will never see each other again. Only one chance to a customer.” She now placed her gloved hands on his shoulders, and whispered into his ear. Her breath was sweet. “Or, you can remain here, as my slave! You may find delights beyond your wildest dreams.”
Chad could feel his arousal returning. His throbbing member began demanding room to grow. But, the tightly-locked leather sack proved unyielding. The pain in his leathered genitalia became unbearable. Yet, in a way, it was almost pleasurable. What was he thinking? His arousal was only magnified by the soft, leathered hands now stroking his sides and naked buttocks. The more his cock strained painfully against its leather prison, the more he became aroused. Unconsciously, he began to sway and buck his hips. Mistress cupped her hand on one his writhing butt cheeks, and allowed that hand to go along for the ride.
“Well?”, she asked, her tone sounding slightly annoyed. As much as Chad wanted, he could not demand release. What spell did this woman have on him? “Do you wish to go, or not?” The writhing of his hips gradually stopped, and he no longer tugged at the mitts that imprisoned his hands. “No?” Chad’s body now slumped, in a sign of sad resignation. “Good”, Mistress said, “We can begin.”
eady learned about my first rule”, she stated, as she flicked the ball strapped firmly in Chad’s mouth. “As for my second rule...” She cupped her hand around Chad’s imprisoned manhood. “...
