your own story
excerpts from some of the stories ty has written
unseen
Looking at the clock, Chris is glad that class is nearly over. Tonight's lecture was not that good as he looked down to see that he had been doodling in his notebook on the margins of his notes. The doodles include the biker on his bike, one of a guy with a gloved hand pressed against the lips, with a biker holding the victim tightly. Another is a close-up of the helmet. Chris is obviously obsessed with the mysterious Ducati rider.
Turning his attention from the doodles, Chris checks out the sneakers that the various guys in the class wear. He likes what he sees on a few dudes wearing Nike or Adidas shoes with their slim-cut sweatpants and hoodies. Chris's attention is broken when the instructor releases the class for the night. Pushing his book and notebook into his backpack, Chris stands, slips on his coat and gloves then grabs his pack, moving out of the room with the other students.
Walking down the hall to the exit, Chris is bummed that he didn't encounter the biker this evening. But there could always be a chance with his classes tomorrow. As the people move out of the building through the swinging glass doors, the cold air rushes in, challenging the heat inside. Moving down the stairs, Chris sees his breath before him, then stops as he reaches the bottom step. To his right, the biker, in his full gear, is sitting on a low stone fence. The biker holds his cell phone, with the screen reflecting in the shield the biker wears.
Even though his truck is parked in the opposite direction, Chris decides to walk past the biker. Gaining his confidence, Chris steps forward, his boots clopping on the sidewalk. After a few steps, Chris is now approaching the bikers, Chris is very conscious of the sound his boots make, though he has never realized what they sound like in the open air. Chris continues walking as he passes the biker. Maintaining his vision forward, Chris wants to check out the biker but worries that the biker will notice and draw attention to himself.
Being nervous, Chris is out of his senses as he passes.
"Nice boots, fucker."
Chris pauses slightly. Did he hear a voice from the biker, and was it complimenting his boots?
As Chris takes another step, turning his attention to the biker, there I another voice from under the helmet, "Can't take a compliment, fucker?"
Now, Chris heard that and knew it was directed to him. Chris stops, hesitates momentarily, then turns and responds, "Thank you. Nice boots yourself?"
Chris allows himself to look at the helmeted biker and sees that he is nodding with confidence that he knows he has nice boots. With the silence, Chris sees that the biker is wearing a Dainese suit in red and black, with black gloves that have red trim to match the snug-fitting leathers.
"Should we go for a beer?" inquires the biker from behind the silver shield that hides the leathered rider's identity.
Chris is surprised by the question and invitation to have a beer with this God. This God in leather. Chris, deciding that he is taking too long to respond, speaks, "Sure, I can follow you in my truck."
As soon as Chris replies, the biker stands immediately with power stepping into Chris's personal space. Leaning forward, the shield of the biker's helmet is right in front of Chris's face, so close that Chris's breath lightly fogs the shield.
Chris feels his cock hardening in his Levi's, feeling the warmth and slightly leathered scent from the rider that is before him.
"You’ll be riding bitch, behind me!” the biker commands in his muffled voice.
Before Chris can respond, the biker shoves a second helmet into Chris’s belly.
“Put this on, now.”
Looking down, Chris sees that the biker is holding a Ruroc Black Atlas full-face helmet, pressing it against Chris’s gut. Realizing that he must follow through, Chris takes the helmet in his gloved hand, lifting it to his head and sliding it over. As he lowers the helmet, Chris feels his dick growing in the denim that he wears, hoping the biker doesn’t notice.
That hope is destroyed as the biker firmly places his heavily armored glove on Chris’s dick, squeezing his cock and balls, causing Chris to moan into the helmet he just finished strapping on.
The biker walked to his Ducati as Chris finished putting the helmet on. Chris follows the hot biker, looking at the back side of the leather, how they fit the ass of the biker perfectly, with the racing hump on the upper shoulder. Chris notices no flesh showing on the biker’s neck, covered with what looks like leather, perhaps a leather baklava that runs down the neck and tucks into the collar of the leather.
Arriving at the Ducati, the biker quickly mounts the bike and motions with his helmet for Chris to get on the back. Chris sees a small, padded seat for the pillion rider through the dark shield. Chris lifts his left leg, raising it to reach the height of the bike, feeling the weight of his Wesco boot and wishing he was wearing a looser pair of jeans. As Chris settles onto the small hard seat, his nuts are slightly crushed, and his cock is wrapped tightly with the denim. Moving slightly, Chris settles as the motorcycle comes to life, rumbling between Chris’s legs. The pillion lifts his booted feet to the pegs and then tries to decide where to put his hands. The biker grabs Chris’s right wrist, pulling it around the biker’s waist and pressing it into place. This lets Chris know he is wrapping his arms around the unknown biker.
Revving the engine, Chris pulls his arms tighter, and the biker drops the clutch; the Ducati flies out of the parking stall, down the gleaming blacktop and out of the college complex.
Having Chris relieved of his clothes, he now sits on his naked ass between the biker’s legs. Heavy steel manacles keep Chris’s hands secured as steel ankle restraints weigh heavy on his bare ankles. Chris won’t be making an escape anytime soon. Lifting his hands, Chris can hear the clang of the heavy chains that connect the cold manacles against the bare skin on his legs as he lowers his hands. Being naked allows Chris to feel many sensations, especially the cool leather of the biker’s legs that are gently pressing upon Chris’s arms. The seams of the leather are ruff, yet smooth, the warm scent of the leather filling the room. The riding boots the biker wears are also hard, made of plastic and leather. The biker occasionally lightly kicks his captive to remind him that he is owned for the moment.
Gently, the biker brings his heavy, armored leather riding gloves up to Chris’s face, pressing them over his nose and mouth so that the well-used leather smell fills Chris’s mind. Closing his eyes, Chris takes in the scent, feeling the gloves on his lips, keeping him quiet while decreasing his breathing slightly. As the biker continues rubbing the captive’s head, Chris escapes his body and looks back at himself naked between the heavy-leathered biker, whose face is hidden behind the shielded helmet.
The biker sits on the edge of the king-size leather-covered bed, squeezing his legs to make it a tight fit for the naked man he has under his control.
When he was led into this dungeon space, Chris had no idea he would end up in such a blissful state. There is no pain, just the humbling sensation of being naked before a man that he doesn’t know wearing the armor of motorcycle riding. As Chris was in his dream state, he heard a voice he didn’t comprehend until the voice repeated.
“My name is Azriel; I am your Master.”, a firm, masculine voice comes from under the helmet. “If you understand, then nod your head.”
As Azriel continues gently rubbing his gloves on Chris’s head, the captive slowly nods his head, the nod feeling natural.
The gloved hands stop, cupping themselves over Chris’s mouth and nose. Chris breathes slowly.
“We are going to have some fun with you. I’ve seen you at school checking out me and my leathers.”
As Azriel speaks, Chris detects some accent in his speech but can’t place where the stranger might be from.
“You are enjoying my control of you, aren’t you?”
Hearing the question, Chris isn’t sure how to respond as he quietly moans into the gloves that gag him.
“Your reply is not required, slave. As I can see between your legs, you are very much enjoying the feel of my riding gloves.”
Chris breaks his comfort zone, having not thought about his cock. But as Azriel points out, Chris can see his exposed cock riding high as it is stone strong with a little drip of pre-cum sliding down the shaft.
Azriel releases his grip as Chris takes in the cool air inside this space that a kinky man owns. Hearing the sound of a roll of duct tape, Azriel starts wrapping the silver duct tape around Chris’s face, gagging him with a few layers of tape.
The gloves start rubbing Chris’s shoulder and leisurely make their way down to the naked chest of the captive. There is a moan from under the tape wrapped around Chris’s face as Azriel’s gloved fingertips touch and slide on the tips of Chris’ tit. There is a roughness to the ends of the gloves, which provides the naked, chained boy a pleasurable yet slightly painful feeling.
“I hope you like how I’m treating you, boy. I know you like things more aggressive, like tickling.”
Chris pauses, lifting his head and opening his eyes. Hearing the biker speak about tickling strikes a nerve. That is what he and Jake did a few nights back. Could it be that the biker was picking things out of the clouds of how Chris liked to be treated while in bondage?
Suddenly, the biker pinches the tits of his helpless boy, which makes Chris yell out in pain as Azriel gets a good squeeze with his gloves. “I like seeing a boy struggle also. A boy should be hogtied with a rope, tickled over and over until he can’t breathe.”
Chris is struggling to get away from the squeezing of his tits, but Azriel is holding the boy tightly with his strong leg. Hearing the description from the biker makes Chris curious as to what the biker knows about him and Jake’s relationship. To maintain further force, the biker wraps his booted feet around Chris, planting them in the space between his crossed legs.
As Chris struggles, he becomes aware of how Azriel describes his and Jake's session in their bedroom.
Chris feels the coolness of the helmet on his cheek as Azriel bends down so that his captive can hear him clearly. “I know all about your desire to be bound and helpless. I’ve seen you watching me, trying to get close but being too chicken to make contact.”
Squeezing very hard, Chris struggles more as the biker continues the story. “I know where you live and enjoyed the show you and your partner put on recently. I wanted to show you more than he can, so you followed what I wanted you to do.”
The biker releases his grip and then slaps Chris’s bare chest several times with his gloved hands, causing a good sting. Chris is relieved to have the tit torture come to an end as he catches his breath. A tinge of fear develops at the thought of this biker spying on him, and Jake is creepy!
“I have my own desires, and when I brought you here, I knew we would be able to indulge in my wicked, kinky dreams. Tonight, you’re going to experience them.”
There is a laugh from under the helmet. “Well, it ain’t like you got a choice. I will tell you that my ideas of control are not for an hour or two. We are talking long term, a term that you won’t know until I release you.”
Chris feels an exciting sensation growing in his cock. The boy is concerned as he never opened his mind to long term confinement. Is Azriel talking about six hours or something?
“I like things tight, like my riding gear.” Azriel runs his gloved hand up and down his geared leg.
“And I like when a man, like you, is tightly bound, locked away, helpless. No one knows where he is, and he has no means of escape.”
There is a leap of Chris’s cock again, it now wagging between legs, the heel of the boots on both sides causing some friction.
Azriel works himself off the bed, standing before his naked, manacled boy with the hard cock visibly exposed. Sitting on the floor as he is Chris is impressed as the biker stands before him. With his booted feet slightly spread, Azriel releases the latch of his helmet and removes it. As the biker lifts the helmet, Chris is anxious to see the face of the man who has claimed it.
Lowering the helmet and holding it at his side, Chris sees that Azriel is wearing a balaclava, only his dark brown eyes exposed and looking directly at Chris. The bikers’ dark eyebrows are partly exposed by the top of the opening.
Kneeling, putting his helmet on the bed, Azriel looks at his naked boy in steel. Reaching his gloved hand forward, the biker gently lifts the chin of the gagged boy. “Lucky for you, you are my subject and about to disappear from the world. You will be left in darkness, helpless at my mercy, Chris.”
Gently moving his gloved hand across the boy’s cheek, “I will have so much pleasure, you will suffer like you never have.”
Azriel immediately stands, leaving the room and the boy to ponder what will happen next.
As various thoughts ramble through Chris’s mind, he finds feeling the bondage that he is in makes his dick hard. The boy looks down at his hard cock, wondering if he should start stroking it. Azriel didn’t mention not enjoying himself as he sat in the steel manacles and his mouth gagged with tape. Chris opens his right hand and touches the head of his manhood where the pre-cum is dripping, and lightly, Chris moves his finger back and forth, providing some easy stimulation and erotic pleasure.
Leaning against the bed, Chris finds the temptation is just too great, and soon he has his fingers wrapped around his hard dick. But he is being disciplined, and only very slowly he moves his hand up and down the shaft. His body tingles as Chris doesn’t want to release himself prematurely. There is no doubt in Chris’s mind that Azriel could very well make sure the boy is kept from cumming the more secure Chris becomes. But Chris also doesn’t want to face any punishment by pissing off the man in the biker gear that has the keys to the steel restraints he is locked in.
Chris loses track of time as he sits alone; the space that contains all the bondage equipment is getting warmer, causing a slight sweat to develop on Chris’s bare skin. Feeling the sensation of his cum boiling in his balls, ready to shoot for release, as his breathing is increasing, feeling his mouth sealed shut, the tape pressing on his lips, Chris releases his hand from his manhood, moaning in frustration into his duct tape gag, his cock bobbing but not releasing its seed.
Rolling his head back onto the leather-covered bed, Chris takes in several large, deep breaths to relieve the sexual tension he has created. Expanding his legs, blood flows down his naked limbs, and Chris also stretches his muscles as much as the chains on his ankles allow. Leaning forward, Chris rubs his hands on his legs, the sound of the steel manacles filling the room.
As he stretches, Chris looks around and feels that the biker has been gone for a long time. Much longer than what Chris thought he would.
Now Chris’s instincts are kicking, he is curious as to what is going on. After all, it is getting boring sitting on the floor. Chris stands up to his knees; the chains keep him from moving his hands or feet too far apart. But Chris makes it up and pauses to see if he can hear anything now that he is higher. There isn’t anything making a sound as Chris steps to the closed door, placing his ear upon it to listen.
Making his own decision, Chris starts to remove the duct tape gag. After a few pinches, he starts the upper corner and pulls the tape from his skin. The boy struggles to keep his lips shut as the tape pulling his beard or occasional hairs on his face is very painful. Chris eventually decides to get the shit off, so he pulls it swiftly and drops the layers of silver tape to the floor. At the same time, Chris is dancing around from pain as he has his hands over his mouth to silence the scream that is thrusted out of his threat.
As the pain subsides, Chris stands and slowly opens the door a sliver to see what is going on down the hall. Still hearing nothing, Chris opens it wider and makes his way down the long hall that is well lit. As the boy steps forward, he can hear the heavy chains that connect the thick steel shackles to his ankles slide on the tile floor.
A few feet down the hall, Chris comes to another door on his left side. Looking at the doorknob, it looks like it is not locked, so Chris reaches with his right hand and turns the knob. The door opens, and the space is dark. As he opens the door wider, Chris finds a light switch that he turns on. With the fluorescent lights flickering, the space is the biker’s garage. There are no cars or trucks, just two motorcycles, the Ducati that the biker brought Chris to this space on and a smaller Honda 250 of a more traditional design.
Pausing for a moment, Chris is torn; now could be the time to make his escape. Sure, he is butt naked, but he could explain that away. It isn’t the first time Chris has been naked in public, but that is usually at a leather or gear event. Still, what Chris has experienced so far and been exciting, and he did want to connect with the biker and was glad the dude was kinky. In another thought, Chris thinks about his partner Jake, and if Chris isn’t home soon, Jake might get worried.
The decision is made, and Chris needs to get home. He makes his way to the Honda as he knows that it will be an easier bike for him to ride. As Chris reaches the Honda, he leans forward to climb the bike and stops. Looking down at the restraints on his feet, there is no way to ride a motorcycle as he can’t get his legs on both sides.
Dejected, Chris stands, as now he will have to stay.
“You fucking think you could get away from me that easily?” the voice startles Chris as he looks up to see the biker, still wearing his balaclava, leaning against the door jam, his arms crossed.
“You need to return to where you were.”, states the biker as his gloved hand fingers for Chris to move forward and proceed back to the dungeon space. As they walk through the hall, it is a powerful image as Chris walks naked with heavy steel restraints on his body, Azriel in his powerful black and red leathers, armored, with protective boots and gloves, his face hidden, proud to have this boy as his captive. Clearly, Chris is Azriel’s property for the moment.