BEFORE

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A few years into exploring bondage and leather, I gained the confidence to attend leather events. The first was in Chicago and International Mr. Leather. I didn’t have any leather and didn’t end up in bondage, but I did meet a few guys. It was a new experience that made me feel comfortable being myself like men. I went to IML several times, but I always wanted to do one of the street fairs in San Francisco.  

I did eventually make it to Up Your Alley in July. I had a good time and returned for a few years. Sadly, my visits were always on my own, but it was a great time to explore the city while spending time with those like me, kinky and of free spirit. 

Sure, I had these fantasies of some leather guy taping me on my shoulder and leading me astray to be flogged by him on one of the crosses that stood available on the city street. 

This year was no different. I had made my reservations, booked an airline ticket and was having a good time visiting Santa Cruz and eating at some good places in the Embarcadero.

I spent this morning at the San Francisco waterfront exploring the tourist traps and watching America’s Cup boats test out the waters on the bay.  Having walked most of the morning, I had a good lunch at the Boudin Sourdough Factory.  Full and tired, I climbed into my rental car, returned to the 101, and headed to my hotel in the South Bay. Driving the Dodge Challenger was a pleasure as traffic wasn’t bad, and I was back in my room by three in the afternoon. 

Sitting on the king bed, I powered up the laptop and logged into Recon. I updated my profile to reflect my travel plans to be in the Bay Area for Up Your Alley this weekend. If anyone wanted to meet up, I would be open to it.  I had no expectations that anyone would respond to my profile, and opening the message, I was not disappointed, as there were none. Just a blank dark block where messages sometimes appear.

Since I was expecting nothing, I honestly didn’t bring any gear for the event on Sunday afternoon. I would end up looking like a traditional tourist in the city who stumbled into this kinky festival.  

I spent time doing assorted things on the web, looking at a few profiles, checking out some places I was interested in visiting, and planning how to get to Mr. S on Sunday. While surfing the web, I suddenly received a message on Recon.

Opening the message was a thumbnail of a man in full red-and-black race leathers, wearing a full-face helmet with a dark face shield, sitting on a sport motorcycle, with the Golden Gate Bridge visible behind him. His screen name was Lthr1on1, undoubtedly a play on California Highway 101. The message was a simple greeting, saying hello and expressing appreciation for what was written in my profile.

Clicking on his small image, I read his profile, which included a photo without his helmet. The profile was of a Hispanic guy in his late forties with a shaved head and goatee. There were other photos of him in Wranglers and boots, a leather uniform and some rubber. After reading the content, I found a well-rounded, 100% active Leatherman. 

I returned his initial greeting with my poor social skills, as I still have trouble speaking to men, even online. I was happy when he responded quickly, and soon we fully discussed our interests and more. 

Our chat lasted over an hour, and he asked if I would like to meet him for an early dinner. He was about 15 minutes from my hotel and suggested a place to eat.  

Pausing for a moment, I thought this was happening quickly, but I enjoyed our chat and thought meeting this real leather man in person would be good for me. Perhaps he might be going to Dore tomorrow, and I would have someone to hang out with. I told him I would enjoy the company, and perhaps he could give me some tips for attending Dore Alley tomorrow.

I hopped in the shower for a quick refresh, changed my clothes, and was at the restaurant he had suggested in no time.  Entering the restaurant was nerve-racking, but when I saw a man wearing leather pants and a jacket, I knew I was in the right place. 

He was already seated and introduced himself as Rafael.  I sat down and admired that he was wearing leather pants, boots, a denim shirt, a leather jacket, and a helmet, sitting on the booth seat beside him.  We ordered and picked up where we had left off in our online chat.  

Rafael mentioned that his boy wasn’t available this evening. Still, he was glad I was and didn’t feel like sitting around the house alone. I told him I wasn’t keen on being alone in the hotel room, and I was glad he suggested dinner.  

As our food arrived, we got to talking about our kink interests, finding that our various interests meshed well with his, noting distinctly that he enjoyed being in control.

My mind wandered for a moment, thinking that if I were local and he didn’t have a boy, I might really be interested in playing with him. My thoughts returned to our meal as the waitress filled our water glasses. Taking a sip, I lowered my glass and told Rafael I appreciated him wearing his leathers to dinner.

That seemed to change his tone as he became more serious and quizzed me on what I would like in a Master/boy relationship.  I felt comfortable with him, answering him honestly and confidently. Being in a power-exchange relationship is a desire, but it requires finding the right man to achieve it.  

After the bill came and we split it, it was time to head our separate ways.  Rafael mentioned that since it was early, if I were comfortable, we could go to his place, check out his gear, and visit more.  I thought that would be nice, and there wasn’t anything to return to the hotel room for, so I agreed.  

As we walked to his very nice red Ducati motorcycle, I said I would follow him in my car. He waved his hand as he put on his gloves, saying it was nonsense and handed me the leather jacket and helmet sitting next to him in the booth.

As I raised my hands to take the riding gear, I was surprised, looking at the gear and then up into Rafael’s brown eyes. 

He smiled as he spoke, “I thought about mentioning that I wanted you to wear this gear on my bike. But didn’t want to seem pushy.”

Separating the jacket in one hand and the helmet in another, I looked at him again, questioning whether he wanted me to wear this gear. “Really?”

Taking the helmet from me, I put on the heavy leather jacket, soft yet with metal zippers and hardware. Rafael was watching me get dressed; I could tell he was appreciating the leather as it fit snuggly, which was a surprise as Rafael wasn’t as big a guy as I am.

“That jacket belongs on a boy,” noted Rafael. “Check the pockets.”

Reaching into the pockets, I find and pull out a pair of matching motorcycle riding gloves with thick armor. The jacket was red and black, the gloves black. Pulling on the gloves, I was beginning to feel like a biker, taking in the leather scent growing with my body heat.

Rafael handed me the slick, solid-black helmet with a silver face shield. I lifted it over my head and slid it down my cheeks to set properly on my head. With my hands in the heavy gloves, I struggled with the buckle securing the chinstrap.

Rafael stepped forward, closer than a stranger might and quickly secured the chin strap. He then zipped the jacket zipper to the top under my neck. There was a snap on the mandarin collar that he snapped, then stepped back while patting my chest, nodding with approval.

  
“You look good, well, from the waist up.” Rafael grinned as he looked at my cargo shorts and sneakers. He couldn’t see the grin on my face that was covered by the helmet. 

Rafael took a nice Dainese jacket lying on his bike seat, sliding it over his denim shirt, then the red helmet mounted on the side of his bike. 

After securing his gear, he climbed aboard and motioned for me to take the pillion spot behind him. I’d never ridden a motorcycle, so I hesitated but stepped forward. 

Reaching out, Rafael grabbed my arm and pulled me to him, and I mounted the bike behind him, putting my feet on the pedals.  I trusted Rafael, and I hope he knew how excited I was that he had suggested this.  

Starting the bike, I felt the rumble of the high-powered machine between my legs, which provided my cock and balls with a nice feeling. Kicking the bike into gear, we were off, out of the parking lot and down the busy road, headed to Rafael’s place.

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Pulling into his garage, Rafael parked us next to his Ford Explorer, and I dismounted, followed by Rafael.  I removed the gloves and the helmet, thanking him for the great ride.  He was smiling after he pulled off his helmet. 

Leading the way, Rafael led me to a door that opened into his house, me carrying the helmet and leaving the jacket on, fully zipped.

The living space was contemporary, as the exterior was an eighties Spanish design. There was brown leather furniture, with a large area rug across the dark tiled floor. A large television was the focus of his sofa and man cave-like chair. 

Telling me to sit, he put his helmet on the kitchen counter. He provided me with cold water from his refrigerator. We spoke for a while, our subject more intensely about gear now that we were in a private area. I was self-conscious about still wearing the leather jacket, but I didn’t want to take it off, and Rafael didn't suggest I should. 

  “Would you like to see more of my gear?” asked my host, Rafael.  

“I certainly would.”

He suggested I bring the helmet and gloves, then stood and led me to a stairway to the second floor of his home.

There were two doors at the top of the stairs, and Rafael opened the one on the left. Entering, he turned on the light to showcase a space I thought existed only in porn films. 

The room was large and filled with many storage places for a boy, as well as the many tools of a Master’s trade.  I commended him on how impressive his space and collection were.  Rafael smiled and nodded, appreciating my comment.  

“I love to spend lots of time with a boy in this space.  My dream is for a time when I can keep a boy secured up here for days on end, sometimes stored, other times well used.”

Hearing this, I realize that Rafael likes total control of a boy and that he is a loving yet powerful Boss.

“So, would you be interested in trying on some gear?” Rafael asks as he steps behind me, touching my shoulder.

“I really didn’t expect to and didn’t think we would be playing.” My response is so disappointing; I’m such a wimp sometimes.

“Don’t worry.” Rafael squeezes my shoulder to provide comfort to me. “It’s just some gear I think you might enjoy.  No play, just gear and then that will be it.”

I nodded in agreement.

Leaning in, Rafael whispered into my ear, “Don’t disappoint me now; you know I deserve a better response.” To emphasize his point, Rafael squeezed my shoulders more.

“Yes, Sir. I want to try on some of your gear.”

Rafael immediately released my shoulders from his grip, stepping away as he stroked my face slightly while moving away. 

As he looked through the large closet with lots of leather and gear, Rafael gave me my first real instructions, “Get out of the jacket and your shorts, boy. You can keep your underwear and socks.”

A feeling of submission moved down my back as I could feel a change coming in the air in this space as Rafael was taking control of me. I quickly remove all my clothing and stand in the middle of the cool room in only a pair of plaid boxer shorts and white athletic socks.  

 
I watched Rafael return with a full leather motorcycle racing suit with the Vanson logo. Most of the suit was black, with a white “v” section on the chest, with blue and red stripes.

Looking me directly in the eyes, Rafael nods at me and hands me the leathers. Taking it, I feel the weight of his thick racing leather for riding safety. The zipper went down the chest of the suit to the crotch. Separating it, I stepped into the leathers with my stocking feet and pulled the suit up my legs. There were rough spots where the leather was sewn together. I found it interesting that it was not lined as my leathers are; this suit had the back of the leather exposed, with some spots showing some long-term wear. 

As I was zipping the suit up, Rafael brought out a pair of black Alpinestars riding boots and a black Darth Vader-looking Simpson helmet. Being in gear, I knew the helmet was more for car racing, as the eye area was more compact than it would be for motorcycle riding. 

As I pulled on the boots, zipping then snapping them shut. After slipping on the helmet, Rafael handed me a pair of red riding gloves with heavy armor.

After putting on the gloves, I touched myself to feel all this intense, heavy gear, the weight of it and snugness. Looking up, I saw Rafael before me with a smile. He stepped forward and hugged me as he stated, “You look fucking hot in that gear, boy!”

He led me to a mirror, where I found my helmeted self looking back at me. My cock was growing inside the leather. 

As a big guy, I didn’t think I would ever get to be in gear like this. Gently rubbing his hand on my crotch, Rafael told me he loves big guys.

He then started to show me around his play space and all the gear he used.  Rafael talked about how he has lived in the house for 20 years, and it has taken him years to build up all this and have the special boy in his life to use it on. While we were talking, he mentioned that he had read some of my blog posts and liked what I had posted.

I enjoyed our time talking and spending time in gear, including the helmet still on my head.  Rafael looked at his watch, and I thought he was about to say it was really late, but it was only eight pm.  

Rafael paused momentarily, then asked, “Do you trust me?”

I wasn’t expecting that question, but found that I did, “Sure, so far, you have impressed me with your suggestions.”

“The thing is, there is a party I really want to go to tonight. It is a rubber event.  I know we’re in leather and biker gear now, but I have some good rubber gear, and if you trust me, we’ll suit you up, and I’ll change, and we’ll go to the party.  We can’t ride the bike, but I think you’ll be ok with that.”

I didn’t have to think long on this: “Yes, that would be fine.”

“OK, turn around.” Rafael sounded more in command with his request.

I did, and Rafael quickly closed the handcuffs on my hands behind my back.  

“I don’t want you doing anything to take your mind off this gear right now.” Rafael strokes my body, enjoying the leather's tightness on me.
“I am going to change into my rubber first.” He looks at me in the leather, hands cuffed. “Bound and geared as you are, you can think about what might be next for you.”

Now, Rafael was starting to get into my head. I liked the confidence of a guy who can achieve that.  

Rafael left the room, closing the door. I then looked at myself in the mirror, hands cuffed behind my leather-clad body in boots, gloved, and all that, and all that was looking back at me was my helmeted head.  I was beginning to see the outline of my hard cock and really wished I could do something about it.

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After a while, Rafael returned, and he looked amazing. He wore a rubber military-style black uniform with breeches and a white stripe down his legs.  Tall rubber boots covered his lower legs, and a rubber jacket, shirt and tie were on his torso.  He was not wearing gloves yet, but had them on the belt around his military jacket's waist.  I dropped to my knees, which impressed Rafael.  He quickly removed the helmet, and as difficult as it was, I went down on his boots and licked them.  

“Very nice, boy, very nice.”

He lifted my head off his boots, looked down upon me, and smiled.  

“Sir, you nearly look like a rubber Nazi,” I spoke respectfully, realizing this was the first time I had referred to him as ‘Sir.’

“Would that be so bad?” he asked. I shook my head no.  “Boy, I think we will have some fun tonight.”

With that, he went behind me and removed the cuffs.  I stood up, and he told me to remove everything I wore, including my underwear.  

As I undressed, Rafael went to one of the closets and returned with some black rubber.  He held up a one-piece latex suit as I put the last of my underwear on a counter.  There were no feet or hands to the suit and no hood; it zipped up the back and around the crotch.  He helped me into the tight rubber, something I had only been in once before and way too briefly.  

Next, he put a rubber hood on me with eye, nose, and mouth holes.  He tucked the bottom of the hood into the neck of the suit.  As he explained, he returned from the closet with a heavier full rubber suit that looked nearly like a scuba suit but was specially made.  As I put the second layer of rubber on, I noticed the feet were attached, and the leg areas were not loose, unlike many suits.  The torso wasn’t snug by any means, and before he had me put my arms down the sleeves, he put long rubber gloves on my hands. The second suit had attached gloves, so I was double-gloved as my hands settled into the gloves.  Taking the zipper of the second suit, Rafael zipped it down my back, around my crotch and up my chest.   

Rafael stepped back and admired me and what I was wearing.

“How does it feel?”

“I could never have imagined it feeling like this.  Cool right now and confining.”

“You look incredible. But I have a few more pieces if you are ok with that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Rafael reached over and kissed me, which I really enjoyed. To show my appreciation, I grabbed his neck with my rubber-gloved hand. He let me hug him for a moment, then gently yet forcefully moved my arm behind my back, taking my left hand in his and doing the same. Rafael gripped my wrists tightly, emphasizing that I should keep my hands behind my back.

At that point, Rafael produced a heavy, thick rubber hood that, as it went on, I realized had only a firm rubber mouth hole that would be inserted into my open lips.  The rubber got tighter on my head, forcing me to breathe through my mouth.  It was hard to hear him as he spoke again.

“Now, boy, you are looking fucking hot.  I know you can’t see, but you must feel like a rubber object.  And I hope you know how excited I am to have this big rubber object before me.  There is another piece to add. Please let me know if you're okay with it.  If you aren’t ok, then grunt, and we will stop.”

I could faintly hear him step away.  I only heard my breathing through the hole in my mouth.  Then I felt him lift my arms and realized Rafael was putting me in a rubber straitjacket.  I paused for a moment to think about what I was doing.  

Rafael had been upfront about going to a party. I felt things were fine and liked that he was pushing my boundaries.  

I pushed my rubber-covered arms forward into the straitjacket as Rafael moved behind me to start strapping up the back of the jacket. Then, he pulled my arms around my torso and secured them behind me, then some more belts from the bottom of the straitjacket between my legs, and I am pretty sure I heard a few locks snap shut.

Now I was in two layers of rubber, sightless, speechless and bound securely.  I have become the rubber object that Rafael mentioned.  Just then, I felt the zipper at my crotch open, unzipping to expose my ass. Rafael began putting something on my cock and balls; I wasn’t sure, but I think it was a device for electro.  He followed with a plug, secured it in and stretched my ass.  The zips were closed. I felt a tingle on my cock and balls.

“Yes, boy, that is some electro to keep things interesting.”  

With that, Rafael stepped away, and I stood in the room very quietly, holding my breathing at times to hear things.  Shortly, he came to me and attached a leash to the wide rubber collar he locked around my neck.  I knew we must be headed to the garage and his Explorer.  After getting to the garage, I heard the beeps as it opened and was unlocked.  Expecting to enter the passenger seat, I heard him through the hood.

“Since you are a rubber object, you will travel where objects go, in the back.  Up you go.”

Rafael led me to the back of his Explorer, had me sit on the edge, and leaned back into the utility area of his vehicle. Rafael had me lie on my side, facing the back of the seat. Rafael then secured my feet and legs with rope.  

I heard the back door slam shut, and in a minute or two, we were out of his garage and on our way to the city of San Francisco.  

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During the drive, I thought of Rafael in his awesome rubber uniform and how those boots needed more attention.  Here I was, a rubber object being taken to a party at a place I’d never been to.  No one will know who I am but Rafael.  It was scary and thrilling simultaneously, causing my cock to feel the tightness of the smooth rubber, slightly lubricated with my pre-cum. 

At that point, I received a slightly stronger shock to keep my mind on Rafael, the man who right now is controlling me completely.

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After a while, I felt the car come to a complete stop. I stopped breathing, and I heard Rafael’s door open and shut.  Expecting the back door to open and for him to let me out, it didn’t happen.  I stopped breathing again, but no sign of him opening the door.  Just then, a sharp, painful shock struck my cock and balls, and I screamed through the open gag.  Over and over, I was shocked, struggling in my bound state.  I was in a straitjacket, full rubber, blinded and gagged with my feet bound, struggling in the back of an SUV parked who knows where.

 
All this struggling made me sweat in the rubber, and since it was summer out, the inside of the parked SUV was getting warmer and warmer.  I was also feeling the plug that had been shoved up my ass as the shock just continued.  I rolled on my back, hoping to stop it, but I knew I was helpless.  Through all my struggling, I didn’t pay attention to much else, and suddenly something was blocking my breathing through the mouth hole of the hood.  The shocks were more intense, and now I couldn’t breathe.  I was yelling through the now-plugged gag, but it must have just sounded like mumbling.  Just then, it all stopped, and I could breathe again as I heard laughing; it was Rafael.

“Fuck boy, you put on a good show!”

He must have opened the back door when I struggled, for I never heard it.  Rafael released my legs from the bondage and tugged on my leash to pull me out of the Explorer.  Pulling me close to him, I could feel Rafael’s rubbery body next to me.  

“You look so fucking hot, boy.  We have a few blocks to walk to the party location, but I am very proud to have you at the end of my leash.”
Rafael tugged, and we began walking.  I had no clue where we were, but I could feel the pavement beneath the tall waders he had put me in.  Without warning, he led me to a spot, stopped and pushed me against a wall. 

“Sorry, boy, but your Master has to piss something wicked.”

With that, I felt something running down my leg and into my hip waders. After a bit, Rafael moved to piss in the other boot.  When he was done, we started walking again, and I sloshed around in the piss puddling in the foot of my boots.

Since I didn’t know where this party was, I don’t know if Rafael was walking me around a roundabout way or directly, but it took a while.  With the piss sloshing in my boots and sweat filling the rubber that encased me, I hoped that things were going to be cool in the building where the party was being held.  

Once again, he stopped me, and I felt him let go of the leash.  Now, this would get a little scary if he didn’t grab it soon, as I was totally helpless, and I knew we were in the city because I could hear the traffic.  Then the leash was picked up again, and I was walking.  But I was led a short distance before we stopped, and a hand was placed on my shoulder, pressing down.  I took that to mean I should kneel, and I did.  
Then the gag hole felt like something was entering it, and soon my mouth was flooded with warm piss again.  Hands grabbed my head and held it in place, and I swiftly took in all the piss and swallowed as fast as I could.  Quickly, the piss slowed to a trickle and soon ended.  There was a slight tap on the side of my head and a tug on my leash, and I was standing again and walking.  

Another short walk, and we stopped.  Through the hoods, I heard, “Thank you, Sir, you have a good urinal.”  Then I felt the leash change hands.  Fuck!  Another man had pissed me off.  Rafael whispered in my ear, “You did fucking great, piss boy.  Now let’s get you to the party!”

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