Leather Daddy

By Hadrian Temple

Larry Dietz is a highly experienced leatherman, but there's something missing in his life. When he meets Danny, a former student of his, sparks fly and the relationship quickly becomes more serious than either of them had expected. Larry has so much he wants to teach Danny, and Danny is eager to learn. But Larry and Danny both have demons from their past that are threatening to sink the relationship. Can their relationship survive?

Author's Note: This is a novel describing a BDSM relationship. It graphically describes sado-masochistic gay sex with an emphasis on domination, submission, verbal abuse, and humiliation. If such content offends you, you shouldn't purchase this.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hadrian Temple
• Release date: Jul 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005840549

Hadrian Temple

Unlike many of the authors who write about gay bdsm on Smashwords, Hadrian Temple is a gay leatherman who has been exploring kink for more than a decade. He writes about sex and relationships the way gay men actually have them (with a healthy dose of fantasy, of course). He writes from the perspective of a dominant because that's the role that appeals to him the most, and because so few other authors write from that perspective

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Leather Daddy

By Hadrian Temple

Copyright © <2020>

All rights reserved.

For C.,

I miss you, buddy

Disclaimer: This book is a work of fiction containing adult sexual content and is intended for readers over the age of consent. Be aware that this book contains graphic descriptions of sexual activity, homosexuality, domination, submission, sado-masochism, verbal abuse and humiliation. By purchasing this book, you certify that you are an adult and aware of its contents.

All characters in this are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I want U 2 fuk me and humiliate me, SIR

That’s the sort of message I like receiving on my apps, even if the English teacher in me instinctively wants to correct the non-standard spelling.

It was close to midnight on a Friday night and I was horny as hell. I’d just spent the past three hours directing a bunch of high school students in a rehearsal for Our Town (I know, I know, but I had been fending off the principal’s demands to stage it for several years, and eventually I lost the battle), and there’s just something about high school seniors and their raging libidos that inspires me. So when I finally got home, got something to eat, and then plowed through half a stack of student essays, I figured I’d earned the right to a little fun. So I’d logged into one of the hook-up apps I use.

My profile makes it fairly clear what I’m into: kinky sex, verbal abuse, humiliation, water sports, and so on. And I’m pretty fond of my profile pic. I’m wearing leather pants, a leather executioner’s mask, and boots. I’m a pretty solid muscle bear: good chest, fairly flat abs, good arms, and a decent amount of fur. It gets me a lot of attention.

So when that message popped up, I immediately gave it some attention. The profile name, UseMeSir, was promising, and the pic was great. It was of a young guy in a speedo, cropped so his head was missing, but he had the sort of body that guys in their late teens and early 20s have if they’ve been working out seriously for a couple years, somewhere between athletic and muscular. His profile said he was 20 and that looked about right.

That’s a good start to getting my attention, boy. Let’s see a face pic.

A minute later he responded, Don’t send face pics, SIR, but U won’t B disappointed.

My first thought was that he’d stolen the pic from someone else’s profile. I don’t meet up without seeing a face pic, I replied.

SIR, pls. Had bad experience when I sent a face pic. I promise U wont be disappointed.

I was irked, but I was also horny. What are you looking for, boy?

Use me any way U want. Humiliate me. Fuk me, but use condom. I need 2 get used. Pls.

There are times when the little head gets into the driver’s seat, despite the big head’s best efforts to stay in control. For nearly three hours tonight during rehearsals, I’d watched Jody Parsons climbing all over Sam Carter and doing just about everything except stick her hand down his pants, and I totally empathized with her. If it wasn’t illegal and unethical, I’d be tempted to climb all over Sam Carter too. So I needed to ride somebody, and UseMeSir seemed like he could be a good candidate, assuming he hadn’t stolen the pic. If it was him and he was just unattractive, I figured I could put a paper bag over his head.

I’m neg. Get tested regularly. You?

Neg SIR. Always safe.

No way to know if he was telling the truth, but I’d asked. I always used condoms anyway.

You know what a safe word is?

Yes.

Good. Tonight, it’s red. Got that?

Yes, SIR

Ok, boy. If I’m not happy with what I see when you get here, I’ll shut the door.

Promise SIR, U will like what U see.

I sent him my address and told him he had half an hour.

I had barely finished changing into the outfit in the photo when I saw a white pick-up truck pull up outside my house. By the time I got downstairs, he was walking up to my porch. It was the guy in the picture all right. But as he stepped onto the porch, I could see his face, and I realized I knew him. It was Danny Browder.

Danny Browder was one of those kids who drifts through high school without really finding himself. He played on the football team, but he wasn’t good enough to attract much attention. I had him in upper division English two years ago, and I knew he was fairly smart. He’d written a good paper about Boo Radley in To Kill a Mockingbird, and when I could get him to talk in class, he could be surprisingly insightful. But he was one of those guys who thought that to be accepted by the jocks he had to dumb himself down, and the result was that he half-assed a lot of his homework. I’d managed to rope him into appearing in the school play that year. He was actually quite good in the rehearsals, but tended to get weaker in performance, I guess because the audience threw him. I’d certainly been attracted to him, but it hadn’t occurred to me that he might be gay, and it wouldn’t have made a difference if I had thought of it. In additional to the whole ‘illegal and unethical’ thing, I also don’t shit where I eat, as they say.

He got to the door and knocked, and I hesitated. Should I play with him? Since he was an adult now, and no longer my student, I couldn’t get arrested for fucking him, but if word got out that I had fucked a former student, parents would immediately assume I would fuck their high school-aged sons and while my principal liked me, he certainly wouldn’t stand up to the school board for me over something like that, and even if he did, Tennessee is way too conservative for him to win that fight.

But, if Danny was gay, he was way in the closet, and wasn’t likely to tell anyone about coming to me to get fucked. Unless he was one of those guys who craves humiliation when he’s horny and then regrets it when he’s done.

But, my little head countered, he was hot. And like I said, the little head was in the driver’s seat tonight.

So I opened the door.

It was Danny Browder all right. He was about 6 feet tall, and in better shape than he was the last time I had seen him. He stretched his t-shirt very nicely, and his biceps were impressively large. He had short dark brown hair, shaved close to the temples but longer on top, and a nice amount of stubble on his face. Some guys his age look unfinished, like they still need a year or two in the oven before they look fully a man, but not Danny. He looked exactly the way I liked my boys: young, masculine, and in great shape.

He stood on the welcome mat and stared at me for a moment, obviously pleased with what he was seeing. I stood back and motioned for him to enter, which he did. I closed the door immediately. Didn’t want the neighbors seeing anything.

I ordered him to undress and pile his clothes on the bench by the door. He complied as quickly as he could, his body language a mixture of excitement and nervousness. I enjoyed looking at him as he stripped down. He paused with his underwear on, and then when I didn’t say anything, he peeled it of and dropped it onto the pile of clothes. His dick was hard.

I gestured to a spot in the middle of the rug. He scurried over to me and stood in front of me, his arms folded behind him. Clearly, he’d played with some other dom before, or he’d watched enough porn online that he knew a little bit of protocol.

I spent some time just looking at him. Danny had been in decent shape in high school. I faintly remembered him playing football. He had the build for it, tall and broad-shouldered. He had decent pecs and his biceps looked even more impressive without the tshirt. He was lean enough that his abs were peaking through but there was still a little fat on them.

You look like quite the stud, boy. I’ll bet you’ve had a lot of girls chasing you. I knew he had dated a bunch of girls, at least briefly.

Yes, Sir.

But that’s not what you want, is it, boy? You’re not as straight as people think you are, are you?

No, Sir. I’m not.

And I’ll bet you get a lot of boys chasing you too, hoping you’ll fuck them. Don’t you?

Yes, Sir.

But that’s not what you want either, is it? You want to be the one getting pounded, don’t you?

Yes, Sir.

You look like a real man on the outside, but you’re not, are you? He shook his head. I slapped him, hard enough to sting. Say it!

No, Sir, I’m not a real man.

What are you, boy?

I’m…I’m a worthless fag bitch, Sir.

That’s right, you are. I reached down and began running my hand over his cock. He opened his mouth and breathed a sigh of pleasure. It feels good to admit it, doesn’t it, boy?

Yes. Yes, Sir. Very much, Sir. Thank you, Sir.

When you were in school, you harassed all the gay kids, didn’t you, boy?

He was quiet and then nodded his head. Yes, Sir. I laughed at them with all the other jocks.

And all the while, you wished one of them would fuck you, didn’t you?

Yeah. He said that quietly.

I opened up the drawer of an end table by the couch and pulled out a grease pen I kept there for just this type of scene. Well here’s where you get your come-uppance, faggot. I wrote dumb on his forehead in big capital letters and jock across his pecs the same way. Then I pushed him over to the fireplace. The space above the mantle was a large mirror that reflected the living room. He stood there looking at the writing on his face and chest. He seemed fascinated by it, unable to tear his eyes away.

I was feeling intensely aroused. I love humiliating guys because it gives me such an intense sense of power and control. It allows me to break a guy down and build him up again. If I’m being honest with myself, I can admit that it’s the same instinct that led me to be a teacher, directed to a more sexually explicit goal. I’d watched Danny drift through high school and, like with a lot of other kids, I’d wanted to take change of him, shake him up a little, and help him find out more about who he really was. And now I was doing that in a way I hadn’t really imagined two years ago. Humiliation play exposes a nerve deep in the psyche; touching it both hurts and feels deeply arousing, and Danny’s fascination with his mirror image showed me I was touching that nerve.

I reached around him from behind and started stroking his cock. That’s what you are, right boy? A dumb jock. He nodded but remained silent. And under that dumb jock exterior is a faggot bitch that needs a real man to use him.

Yes, Sir. He leaned back against me and let me wrap my other arm across his neck. As I began to stroke his cock, he began to press his ass against my crotch. He tilted his head to one side to expose his neck to me. I’m just a worthless dumb jock who deserves to be abused by a real man.

As I stroked his cock, I put my mouth to his ear and alternated nibbling on his ear and whispering into it. Tonight you’re nothing but a fuck toy for me to get my needs met. He smelled of sweat and dust and grease, despite being clean. Was he a mechanic now? A construction worker maybe?

He moaned. Use me. I deserve it. I’m worthless trash. I could tell he was nearing orgasm. He was breathing harder and bucking his hips to slide his cock through my hand.

So I pulled my hand away. Not so fast, bitch. You’re here for me. He groaned in frustration. I spun him around. Down on your knees, you slut.

He sank down onto the carpet and looked up at me with big round eyes. He was totally into his submissive side, totally receptive to whatever I wanted to do. And I had one of those moments where I understood something true about a boy I was playing with. Despite his mature appearance, his hot body, Danny was still a boy inside, and he wanted a man to use him because for a little while all he had to do was do as he was told. Being submissive gave him an opportunity where it was ok to not have a clue about his life. For this moment, Danny was mine to use as I wanted. That sort of power tastes incredible.

Danny wanted to be used, and I wanted to use him. I unzipped the zipper of my leather jeans and pulled out my cock. It’s a good circumcised cock, not huge, but thick. A man’s cock. And it was hard. I clutched the base of it. You want this cock, don’t you?

This was a script Danny knew well. Yes, Sir! It’s a beautiful cock. Please, Sir, may I suck it?

I grabbed Danny’s brown hair and pulled his face toward my cock. You gonna treat this cock right, faggot?

Yes, Sir. I’m a good cock-sucker. Please let me show you, Sir.

I slapped my cock against his cheek. It left a little smear of pre-cum when it pulled away again. "If