Waiting for Ross #4

Ross looked at his watch and thought about Tim. Exactly sixteen hours so far: Ross’s cock swelled at the thought of Tim squirming and sweating under the layers of rubber and leather and not being able to do anything about it; bound tightly, immobile, locked away in dark isolation, deprived of his senses, and waiting....The growing erection and effect of beer on his bladder reminded Ross that had been at the bar about 2 hours. Ross was ready to head home, but he was intrigued by the intent look in Brad’s eyes. Ross stared at the handsome young man across the bar, inhaled deeply by way of his cigar, and then exhaled slowly in his direction. The large cloud of smoke made its way toward Brad, and he smiled at Ross. As Brad left the safety of his small group of admirers and walked toward him, Ross assessed Brad’s attire: a rubber vest over the eye-catching tanned skin and a sinewy expanse of chest and arms; tight jeans under a pair of rubber chaps, through the openings of which his bulging crotch and generous ass protruded; designer-type black leather boots, reaching almost to the knee. Porn star good looks, a definite star in any gay bar, Ross thought, though more like a fetish fashion model than a real BDSM player. Ross wondered if Brad knew about Tim. He decided to have some fun while finding out.

Ross spoke first, “Hello, Brad. What’s new? Where’s your other half?”

“Well, um, actually, I don’t know. Ur... well, what I mean is, well, funny to be tripping over my own words, I guess.... Well, Tim and I broke up a few months ago. I thought everyone knew.”

Ross laughed. “That’s right. Now I remember. Does that explain why I feel like you’re cruising me?”

Brad smiled again, this time breaking into a broad grin that showed off his good looks even more, if that were possible. “And I thought I was being low key about it.”

Ross continued, “In your case, nothing you do is low key. All eyes are on you, as usual, and you know it. What’s on your mind?”

“I disagree. I think all eyes are on you. Are you working out more or something? Your pecs and biceps are huge. Looks like you’re gonna break through that rubber uniform.”

Ross laughed again. “If you really want to work me with flattery, you have permission to get down on your knees and lick my boots.”

Brad gave a non-committal chuckle and glanced in the direction of his friends. Ross provided further encouragement. “If you want something, be direct. Just ask. I’ve always liked you and Tim. Heard good things about you.” Ross smirked. “Often thought I’d like to get to know both of you better.”

Momentarily engulfed by the eye-candy effect that Brad seemed to have on everyone, Ross found himself staring at the muscles of Brad’s upper arms and chest. Brad stumbled over his words again. “Err, well... okay.” Brad lowered his voice and continued. “When Tim and I were together, he told me you had ‘slaves,’ and I was sort of curious about it, whether it’s true. I mean... well, we loved to play and such, and it’s fun, but he said, well, um... okay... here it is straight away: Always wanted to play with you, wanted both of us to, since we both liked to switch, but he never wanted to, cause he said you were too, ah, sort of ‘hardcore.’ And we heard stuff from friends about you. And like I said was always curious, what I heard. So.... now I’m single, and... well, sort of ... interested.”

Ross lightly pinched one of Brad’s nipples as he talked. “I am training a slave right now. I’m not into exclusive relationships, however.” He smiled. Ross’s calm, articulate words implied a sense of control, and he liked it that way. Brad gulped, and Ross noticed that Brad’s crotch seemed even more pronounced. Brad’s demeanor suggested he was at a loss for words, but eventually he managed to say, “Cool. Uh... this, um... ‘slave.’ Who is he?”

Before Ross could decide what to say, Brad blurted out, “Does he come here? Is he here tonight?” Ross blew cigar smoke directly into Brad’s pretty face. “Bringing him here is not part of his training, at least for now.” Brad seemed hesitant and silent. Ross was now pulling insistently on Brad’s nipple, and Brad looked down, seemingly embarrassed by the growing bulge of his own crotch. Ross put down his beer, locked a hairy, muscular arm round Brad’s beautiful neck, and drew him closer. His cigar was less than an inch from Brad’s flawless nose and full lips. Brad pulled back and stammered, “So, well, uh.. Um.. how often do you ‘train’ him?”

Ross removed the cigar from his mouth and raised his eyebrows as he spoke. “Often. He’s being trained as we speak.” Brad exclaimed, “For real? Like he’s home polishing your boots?”

“It’s definitely very real. And he is ‘home.’ Not cleaning boots, though. He’s all sealed in rubber, head to toe, bound up tight, waiting in my dungeon.” Seeing Brad’s eyes widening, Ross leaned back, drew on the cigar, and continued: “Multiple layers of rubber and leather. Sacked, suspended, immobile. Hooded. Gagged. Ass plugged. Catheterized. Been that way all day. Recycling piss while his Master hangs at the local leather bar.” Ross picked up his beer and took a sip. “I’m building up a good load for him right now.”

Brad was speechless. Ross asked, “So what’s on your mind now?” Brad seemed to waver, as if searching for the words. Below the smooth, rippled abdomen and lean waist, Ross could see the outline of Brad’s hard cock. “I have a million questions, but I guess... well...” Ross smiled and interrupted, “Try two or three.” Suddenly seeming aware of his own seriousness, Brad smiled and then laughed, but Ross saw through the forced expression. “What if he wants out? I mean, you can’t just leave him that way, right? It’s just playing, isn’t it? You must, you know...Do you have some kind of... oh, I don’t know.. remote control release?”

“Once he arrives in my dungeon, he serves his sentence. He knows after he’s tied up, he has no choice. His options end when he walks through my door and submits to me. He’s a slave, so it’s not a game. I won’t let him out until I decide his incarceration is over. He knows that and keeps coming back for more. Right now he’s heavily bound, confined, locked up. If he wants out, though it may seem urgent to him, it’s also sort of an abstract concept at this point, since it’s not within his control, and it’s certainly not on my radar screen, at least not so far tonight.” Ross snorted, “And there’s no remote!” Enjoying his own description and aware that his own cock was also very hard, Ross continued. “There is a timer, though. Electrodes on his cock and an electrified butt plug. Timed jolts of current to keep him alert and swallowing. Don’t want him falling asleep and drowning in piss.”

Ross could no longer gauge Brad’s excitement. A blank expression on his face, Brad said nothing. Ross spoke. “Your friends are staring. Waiting for you it appears.” Brad: “Yea, I guess. I wondered.... I’d like to see how you keep your slave sometime.”

“I was about to leave when you caught my eye. You’re welcome to follow if you’d like.” Brad responded immediately: “I would!” Ross pulled again, harder, on Brad’s nipple, and Brad gave a half grimace, half smile. Ross let go of it, quickly downed the rest of his beer, and squeezed Brad’s ass. “Let’s go then. My bladder’s getting full. If we stay any longer I might have to press you into some piss service.” Ross turned toward the exit and crossed the bar, and Brad followed behind.