He knows you are new. You keep asking questions about whether you are doing this right or if you are doing that right. But you are not asking like a beginner, no you little black nigger, you have had some time being a leather boy. But most thugs on Baltimore have never been a leather boy before and he is curious from where you come from. Your accent tips him off.
“New York,” he asks.
“Yeah,” you reply, “How do you know?”
He sits there and wonders how he does know but really doesn’t care. He would rather have his little black leather boy (god, he loves calling you this) blow him or taking his dick up your chocolate ass.
You look at his St. Andrew’s cross. Unlike the other Daddies, his isn’t made out of some synthetic plastic and then covered in leather. No, his is made out of wood, cherry you believe. You touch it and then look at him.
“Will this add to the pain,” you ask him. He nods. He doesn’t talk a lot and this scares you some.
Hell, this scares you a lot.
You spend a few more moments looking and damn near inspecting all of his floggers and whips and plugs, before he says, “Why don’t we get started.”
You take a deep breath. You think you are ready but not sure. He isn’t as old as your last Daddy, which relieves you some because hopefully this one won’t die while fucking you. But at the same time you are scared because with his youth come strength and stamina and that equals up to a long, painful night.
As commanded in the email, you aren’t wearing anything under your jeans and white tee. Your hair is in cornrows. You are wearing the diamond stud he sent in airmail to you three weeks ago. You could pass for a decent looking D’Angelo except you are a shade darker and your structure is a bit more defined in taunt muscle definition.
This pleases him. You are more than he expected. His dick swells in those leather shorts he wears. He takes something of the small table he has nearby and covers your eyes. It’s a leather blindfold lined with fur. Your dick get harder than before and you feel a drop of pre-cum slide down to your balls. It’s a bit chilly in his dungeon and you are pretty horny, so your nipples get just as hard.
He starts with those. Taking a light whip you feel the whip snap at your nipples. You envision you brown skin tinting red and then back again to brown.
“What are you suppose to say after each lick,” He ask before hitting you in the same spot.
“Thank-you Daddy,” you whimpered. You can’t believe your voice is already breaking up how much you sound like a little boy. Technically you are still a boy, you haven’t even reached twenty-one yet.
He hits you again, “I didn’t hear you, nigger. What are you suppose to say.”
“THANK-YOU DADDY!” You damn near scream, “THANK-YOU.”
You think he is smiling but you are not sure. You don’t have much time to think on it before he grabs you by your hair and you feel your body make contact with the wooden St. Andrews cross. He takes no time to have your ankles, wrist, and waist strapped to the cross. Your poor dick, its bent between the wood and you and your pubes are tickling the head.
Everything is quite for a good minute. You feel him stick something up your ass. That is nothing more than a remote ass plug, set on the highest setting, just ready for him to press the button.
“Keep it in until the end,” He says pushing it up further. You moan, “and I might reward you in the end. I might give you freedom.” He stops, “But if it falls out and you defecate my floor. Nigger you better pray my arms get tired or I feel like fucking before you start to bleed.”
He hits you again, this time it’s a flogger. You can tell from the hard, yet hot blows.
“Yes Daddy,” you answer.
For the rest of the night he takes to the highs and lows of the leather Daddy-Boy experience. He blows your fucking mind! He is nothing like your other Daddy. He doesn’t give a fuck if you cry. He doesn’t give a damn if you beg for him to stop because he knows you are lying. Maybe if you would stop raising your ass every time you thought the blow was coming, he might believe you. But through it all, you keep your ass plug in. For some reason, you don’t feel half as naked with that thing up your ass.
And just when you are getting used to his blows. Just when you have the “Yes Daddy…Thank-you Daddy,” down pact to a science. He turns that plug on. Suddenly, your sweet brown bottom feels three times bigger than it should. He lets that thing vibrate for what seems to be an eternity. Until eventually you have bust a huge load all over yourself, the cross and the floor. Dumbass, while you were busting a nut. You dropped the plug.
You know you did because you can feel the air touch your hole.
Now what is Daddy going to do you?
“New York,” he asks.
“Yeah,” you reply, “How do you know?”
He sits there and wonders how he does know but really doesn’t care. He would rather have his little black leather boy (god, he loves calling you this) blow him or taking his dick up your chocolate ass.
You look at his St. Andrew’s cross. Unlike the other Daddies, his isn’t made out of some synthetic plastic and then covered in leather. No, his is made out of wood, cherry you believe. You touch it and then look at him.
“Will this add to the pain,” you ask him. He nods. He doesn’t talk a lot and this scares you some.
Hell, this scares you a lot.
You spend a few more moments looking and damn near inspecting all of his floggers and whips and plugs, before he says, “Why don’t we get started.”
You take a deep breath. You think you are ready but not sure. He isn’t as old as your last Daddy, which relieves you some because hopefully this one won’t die while fucking you. But at the same time you are scared because with his youth come strength and stamina and that equals up to a long, painful night.
As commanded in the email, you aren’t wearing anything under your jeans and white tee. Your hair is in cornrows. You are wearing the diamond stud he sent in airmail to you three weeks ago. You could pass for a decent looking D’Angelo except you are a shade darker and your structure is a bit more defined in taunt muscle definition.
This pleases him. You are more than he expected. His dick swells in those leather shorts he wears. He takes something of the small table he has nearby and covers your eyes. It’s a leather blindfold lined with fur. Your dick get harder than before and you feel a drop of pre-cum slide down to your balls. It’s a bit chilly in his dungeon and you are pretty horny, so your nipples get just as hard.
He starts with those. Taking a light whip you feel the whip snap at your nipples. You envision you brown skin tinting red and then back again to brown.
“What are you suppose to say after each lick,” He ask before hitting you in the same spot.
“Thank-you Daddy,” you whimpered. You can’t believe your voice is already breaking up how much you sound like a little boy. Technically you are still a boy, you haven’t even reached twenty-one yet.
He hits you again, “I didn’t hear you, nigger. What are you suppose to say.”
“THANK-YOU DADDY!” You damn near scream, “THANK-YOU.”
You think he is smiling but you are not sure. You don’t have much time to think on it before he grabs you by your hair and you feel your body make contact with the wooden St. Andrews cross. He takes no time to have your ankles, wrist, and waist strapped to the cross. Your poor dick, its bent between the wood and you and your pubes are tickling the head.
Everything is quite for a good minute. You feel him stick something up your ass. That is nothing more than a remote ass plug, set on the highest setting, just ready for him to press the button.
“Keep it in until the end,” He says pushing it up further. You moan, “and I might reward you in the end. I might give you freedom.” He stops, “But if it falls out and you defecate my floor. Nigger you better pray my arms get tired or I feel like fucking before you start to bleed.”
He hits you again, this time it’s a flogger. You can tell from the hard, yet hot blows.
“Yes Daddy,” you answer.
For the rest of the night he takes to the highs and lows of the leather Daddy-Boy experience. He blows your fucking mind! He is nothing like your other Daddy. He doesn’t give a fuck if you cry. He doesn’t give a damn if you beg for him to stop because he knows you are lying. Maybe if you would stop raising your ass every time you thought the blow was coming, he might believe you. But through it all, you keep your ass plug in. For some reason, you don’t feel half as naked with that thing up your ass.
And just when you are getting used to his blows. Just when you have the “Yes Daddy…Thank-you Daddy,” down pact to a science. He turns that plug on. Suddenly, your sweet brown bottom feels three times bigger than it should. He lets that thing vibrate for what seems to be an eternity. Until eventually you have bust a huge load all over yourself, the cross and the floor. Dumbass, while you were busting a nut. You dropped the plug.
You know you did because you can feel the air touch your hole.
Now what is Daddy going to do you?
