This story continues right from Part 1. You don't really need to read it, but it wouldn't hurt.
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As I'm ferociously tugging at my cock, I suddenly hear his voice in my head, "only I tell you when you get to cum".
I drop my cock, it stands straight up, leaking a small drop of precum, begging to be touched, begging to cum again.
I remember his rules. I remember that he needs to trust me, and I need to trust him.
I look over at the clock, and it's about the time I would get home if I actually lived three hours away.
I opened my app, sent a message that I arrived home safely.
His reply was quick, "Good boy. You made good time. Hope you didn't speed too much. Can't have my sexy leather boy getting into a car wreck."
"Yes Sir, I will be mindful of my speed next time."
"Good boy," he replied, "When can you submit to me again? I've thought about you since you left, and I haven't left my chair, or gotten my cock to go down."
"Well Sir, how about this next Saturday, I could drive over again."
"I like that boy, I sure wish you lived closer so I could see you more often, I need some release."
"Me too Sir. Me too. I'm going to head off to bed Sir. Good night."
"Good night boy."
The next several days went by about as slow as humanly possible. I couldn't wait for Friday to arrive to see him. I still needed to keep my distance before I let him in.
We've messaged with each other all week, some fetish talk, some regular talk. I wanted to touch myself every night, but have resisted the ure. I still need to remember to tell him about when I did touch myself. Honesty, I thought, is the best policy.
Friday night, and I was lying in bed, thinking of the next day. Thinking of the ways he was going to need me. He wasn't using me, at least that's not how I felt it. I was giving my submission, and he was enjoying the service.
I received a message, "Good evening boy, I can't wait to see you tomorrow. Arrive by 11:00 am, wear only a leather jockstrap under your sweat suit, the hood and the rest of your uniform will be waiting for you, and so will I. You might get to please this throbbing cock of mine tomorrow."
"Yes Sir. I will see you at 11:00 am."
I hardly slept again that night, and woke up early. I put on my favorite leather jockstrap with the red codpiece, jumped into the sweat suit, and drove to his house."
I arrived right at 10:45, I parked down the street, walked up to his house, and noticed a different car on the street than had been there last time. I hope they were visiting the neighbors.
I walked into the garage, shed my sweat suit, and placed the hood over my head, but left the strings. I walked to the garage door to the house, and there was a sign. "Enter when ready boy, then kneel on the floor in the kitchen, ring the bell when you're ready to present yourself to your Sir."
I opened the door, and heard multiple male voices, I slightly panicked, ran back through the door, stripped the hood, jumped into my sweatsuit and sprinted to my car. I was not ready for more than one person. I was not prepared to deal with this. Too much, too fast.
I opened my app and saw a message, "Was that you boy that ran out of here? What happened?"
I replied, "I heard another man's voice when I entered the kitchen, and I am not prepared for more than one man. It's too much for me Sir."
"Oh," he replied, "I understand, however, the man you heard was my tailor. He makes custom leather clothing for me and my boy using precise measurements. He's the best guy within 100 miles of here. When you're ready, please come back inside."
"Yes Sir."
I took several deep breaths, tried to calm my nerves. I needed to trust him. I had no reason not to. He has had great patience with me, had great gentleness with me, and it was time I let a wall down.
I got back into the garage, hood on, in just my jockstrap. I opened the kitchen door, and walked in. I got down on my knees, took a breath, and rang the bell.
I soon heard his leather boots thumping the floor as he walked near me. I kept my face aimed at the floor.
He reaches down and grabs my chin, pulling me up to my feet. He wrapped his arms around me, he was wearing chaps, a jock strap, boots, a full body harness, gloves, and his cap.
"I'm glad you came back in. Let's get you completely secure."
"Yes Sir. I...um... think I've used this guy to tailor some of my leather, he might recognize my tattoos on my body."
"Let's cover them then boy."
He grabs my shoulder, spins me around, and proceeds to tighten the strings in the back of the hood.
He then grabs soft black tape and covers each of my tattoos completely. He puts his arm around my waist and leads me into the living room.
"Mr. James, meet my latest boy. He needs some measurements taken for some special clothing that suit my tastes."
There's a short block in the middle of the living room where Mr. James motions for me to stand. I step up on the block, and he begins taking my measurements.
"Sir, may I ask a question?"
He sits on the leather reclining chair in the corner eyeing me, "you may ask it boy."
"What exactly is he measuring me for Sir?"
"Just a few items that I wish my boys to wear when I want them to. Some leather, some not."
"Respectfully Sir, I have my own leather clothes, and not leather clothes, you don't have to spend your money on things for me Sir."
"Okay boy, what do you have that's leather. I figured you had some regular clothes, I just wanted to have easier access here to those clothes if it was needed."
"Sir, I have several pairs of pants, two pairs of chaps, several button down shirts, long and short sleeves, jock straps, and two pairs of gloves."
"See boy, you don't have what I require my boys to wear in my home. Let him finish measuring you, he will make the shorts, and I will provide for my boy. It's my job as your dominant to make sure you have what I want and what I need for you to service me."
"Sir, what if we don't, I don't know, work out" I ask?
"Then we will have an option for you to purchase the clothing from me, or I will return them to Mr. James, he will clean them, and repurpose them or sell them himself. I get a partial refund if it comes to that."
He gets up from his chair, walks over to me, "But I hope we 'work out'. I rather enjoy getting to play with this body, and I can't wait to let you service me later. Let Mr. James finish, boy, and that's a command."
He walks back to his chair and sits down, Mr. James continues my measurements, and scribbles down in his notepad what he needs.
"I'm all set," he says.