M4M kink writing. Control and transformation of men. 18+ only.

Tag: leather (Page 1 of 2)

ThinkTech (chapter 5)

Catch up on chapter 4 before reading on…

Rick’s days blurred into a bleak rhythm as his financial reality closed in on him. He’d maxed out every credit card and drained every last dollar, and still, the inescapable weight of ThinkTech’s debt loomed over him. The essentials-only plan was all he could afford, but it was a mere shadow of what he’d experienced. The prompts came rarely, and even when they did, they were blunt and basic. He longed for the smooth, intuitive guidance of ThinkTech Premium, but after depleting his cash and credit reserves, it was out of the question. 

Without ThinkTech’s steady influence, Rick felt stripped down, raw, and exposed. Experiences that had once flared with confidence and charm now felt distant and dulled, as if he were experiencing the world inside a fishbowl. His thoughts were muddled and sluggish, like static buzzing in his head, making it nearly impossible to respond naturally in conversation. When he struggled to think fast enough, his mind would short circuit, and he’d fall back on repeating the last thing the other person had said—a cheap trick that only occasionally worked and left him feeling hollow and robotic every time. 

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ThinkTech (chapter 4)

Catch up on chapter 3 before reading on…

For the next few days, Rick felt unstoppable.  

ThinkTech Premium turned the spark of the free trial into an inferno. Every word he spoke, every smile he flashed, and every movement he made was meticulously calibrated to enthrall Zach and anyone lucky enough to cross his path. The surge of power was electrifying—Rick’s mind crackled with razor-sharp wit, magnetic charisma, and an almost supernatural attunement to the world around him. Each morning, he awoke with an unstoppable drive, his thoughts snapping into alignment like precision-engineered cogs, propelling him toward a brilliance he’d only ever imagined.  

With ThinkTech shaping his every move, Rick’s nights with Zach became the stuff of fantasies—charged, intimate, and unforgettable. Date night at the leather bar was pure alchemy as ThinkTech whispered the perfect cues into his mind. The prompts told him how to stand—broad shoulders back, chin tilted just so—and when to unleash a sly grin that drew Zach closer into his orbit. When Zach growled with laughter at Rick’s jokes, ThinkTech nudged Rick to lean even closer, delivering just the right compliment into his ear.  

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ThinkTech (chapter 3)

Catch up on chapter 2 before reading on…

Rick’s alarm buzzed, jerking him awake. Groggy, he squinted at his phone, catching sight of a text notification from Zach. His heart gave a little leap, but as he tried to sit up, he felt… off. There was a heaviness in his head as though his thoughts were moving through molasses. The confident clarity he’d felt with ThinkTech over the last few days had vanished, leaving him with a fuzzy, sluggish mind that seemed to snag on every thought before it was fully formed.  

He tapped on the notification, opening Zach’s text.  

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ThinkTech (chapter 2)

Catch up on chapter 1 before reading on…

Rick smoothed down his jacket to distract his trembling fingers and calm his nerves before he entered the restaurant. Zach had suggested the venue for their first date—a trendy downtown gastro-monstrosity called Salt & Thyme. It had taken Rick way too long to find the place and even longer to park his car, with a few extra minutes outside the restaurant to catch his breath for good measure.  

He glanced through the casement windows into the packed restaurant. Everyone looked like they’d just come from a photoshoot for Casual Chic Monthly. The restaurant was full of guys with trimmed and waxed beards, wearing shirts so tight you could practically count their abs, and women in flowing dresses that looked effortless but probably cost half a mortgage payment.  

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ThinkTech (chapter 1)

Rick’s leather jacket creaked as he hunched over the two-top table, shifting his weight from foot to foot. It was barely ten o’clock, still early for a Saturday night, and the regulars had only just started to trickle in. From his perch in the corner, Rick nursed a sweating glass of whiskey, its contents now more melted ice than liquor, and ran a finger along a rough patch of cracked leather on his sleeve. The only piece of leather gear he owned, the old jacket’s worn edges and snug fit lent him a rugged look he rarely felt he lived up to. 

He was a middle-aged bear with a build that was beefy and soft at the same time—rounded gut, broad chest, and thick arms hidden under the leather, with a bald scalp and a beard he kept trimmed short but full. His leather look was more functional than flashy, a way of blending in rather than standing out, but tonight, he felt something different in the air. He scanned the bar as it filled with patrons and music grew louder. Surrounded by men he only vaguely recognized from local leather events and meetups, Rick envied their easy camaraderie from a distance. 

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Freshly shorn

Marcus led Jamie down the cracked pavement of Main Street, directing his boyfriend from their car toward the barbershop. Clear Creek wasn’t a ghost town in the strictest sense, but whatever community existed was conspicuously absent from Main Street this Sunday afternoon. An autumn gust whipped through the thoroughfare, swirling old newspapers and fallen maple leaves into a mini cyclone. Jamie pulled his dark green bomber jacket tighter around his slender frame as they passed under an American flag, which flapped noisily from its mast above the awning of an abandoned storefront.  

Contrary to Jamie’s efforts to shield himself from the wind, Marcus cut a carefree, imposing figure as they walked to the barbershop. With his back straight and shoulders square, Marcus walked with a confident stride that seemed to make even the swirling leaves calm down in his presence. His sharply tailored jacket clung tightly to his broad upper body, the black leather creaking with every smooth, undulating motion.  

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The pageant, part 2 (My perfect dad 50)

Read part 1 to get caught up…

As the evening started, Patrick perched on the edge of his barstool, his heart thumping with perturbation and disbelief. The air buzzed with an energy he barely recognized, charged with surreal, disquieting novelty. Mr. Leather Evergreen, the local fetish pageant he had followed religiously and whose title he clinched last year, had been turned on its head. The familiar program of events was gone, and each had been replaced with a bizarre suburban analog.  

Instead of showing off their leather craftsmanship skills, the contestants were each handed a pair of shears and tasked with trimming a small patch of lawn to perfection. The stop clock ticked its final seconds, and Patrick watched in bewilderment as a dozen portly, middle-aged men sweated and fretted over every blade of grass on their miniature plots of turf. The winner, a guy Patrick recalled from the old Hideaway days, high fived the entire panel of judges when they revealed he’d trimmed his grass uniformly to one-quarter inch in height, exactly what the HOA prescribed.  

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Courtesy call

Marc’s hands trembled as he reached for his cell phone. As soon as he had it safely in his sweaty palm, a pair of gloved hands clamped onto his shoulders and pulled him roughly back into his chair. Marc sighed with pleasure as the scent of Master’s leather gear filled his nostrils, and the sensation of Master’s hands on his naked body sent waves of arousal radiating outward from each point of contact. 

The phone continued to ring, but Marc hesitated to answer. He felt awkward taking this call while sitting naked in his Master’s dungeon. It was a further step in blurring the lines between facets of his life that were, until recently, strictly compartmentalized. Master deserved credit for blurring a lot of those lines Himself, and Marc had a hunch that the bank’s urgent requests to speak to him might be related to his new status as Master’s slave. 

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Selected (My perfect dad 30)

This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.

The windowless room was thick with the smell of cigar smoke, leather, and sweat. My brothers and I had roughhoused enough for one day. It was time to relax and wait for our visitor to get here. 

“What do you think he’ll be like?” I said. 

Master” (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0) by bearloveorg
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Empty-headed dad (My perfect dad 27)

This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.

Hello. My name is dad. I am a dad. I like to stand here and dad all day long. 

I used to wear dad clothes, but then my Son gave me this dad uniform for when I’m performing my dad duties. Like standing here with this cigar between my dad lips. Maybe one day, my Son will actually let me smoke it. I’d do it myself, but I don’t know how. 

A Cigar is a good smoke” (CC BY-NC 2.0) by thaths
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