Leather Boy

Leather was something Ben's dad had always engrained into his son. To the father it was a symbol of power and authority, showing wealth in having the money for authentic tradework. Leather jackets were the best for keeping warm, leather belts for waists. Leather shoes for formal events or boat shoes for casual wear.

Ben didn't really understand it growing up. For him it was just another piece of clothing, something that could be replaced. It was just some engrained quirk in his dad that didn't really make sense in today's world to Ben. It wasn't until Ben began seeing a value in men that he saw a different nature to the advice.

Ben reached the point in adulthood when he was finally familiar with his own aspects, conscious with how he couldn't take his eyes off huge studs. Ideas plagued his mind as he came to terms with the role he wanted, how he needed to be under them. How he needed to be used by them. He needed a way to identify the ones he wanted. He watched dominant figures in leather outfits, boots, jackets, realizing just what they would have in store for him.

It wasn't long before Ben became a slut for them. He was constantly bound in leather belts, collared, pressed into the bed with the back of their shoes. It was something he learned to wear. Slowly leather had a new meaning to him. Submission. Debilitation. Being a tool for authority. He needed it, addicted to it. Soon it became the only thing he would wear.

Ben's dad had been proud seeing the change first, watching Ben's obsession with leather grow. He gifted Ben his old stuff, watching as his son made it his life. It wasn't until the father saw the leather thing Ben was made to wear that the situation dawned on him. He saw what a slut his son had become, how his son was meant to be degraded, pushed around. It didn't take long until new habits began to settle into the family. Ben spent almost every night serving his father in bed like the obedient leather boy he'd become.