Martian Leather

"Drinks on you tonight, eh?" Allens said, with a friendly punch to the shoulder. Ezekiel, again, quelled a flinch of actual pain. He sometimes suspected Allens punched just hard enough on purpose. Ezekiel fought the urge to squirm out of the larger, older man's grip on his shoulder and took a breath, stepping smoothly away from the man and adjusting his tie.

"Actually, I'm afraid I-"

"There he is!"

And with that, Ezekiel's heart sank. Allens's sidekick, Miller, was along for the ride, because of course he was, and somehow despite it being less than thirty minutes past five o'clock he'd already found a pretty young someone to hang off his arm, dressed in glittering red. Miller came up on the other side Ezekiel and also clapped him on the back, almost causing the younger man to stumble.

"Allens told us we're all headed to Bronze Chain for quarter-end drinks!" Miller boomed in his domineering voice.

"Did he, now," Ezekiel said with a wooden smile.

"Well it was a great one wasn't it?" Allens pointed out. Somehow, at some point, Ezekiel had been guided along by the two of them to the near street corner on the other side of the fountain in Paradigm Square. Allens raised his hand and snapped his fingers twice, summoning an autocab. After a few moments, a honk answered twice in the distance, confirming it was en route.

"Yes," Ezekiel said, sagging in defeat. "The quarter was a great one." As he said it out loud, though, it actually started to make him feel a bit better. It had been a great quarter. He should celebrate a little. If not for himself, then at least for morale. His father would have, and Ezekiel knew for a fact that his father only drank when courtesy demanded. He'd inherited his hatred of the foul-tasting swill from the man. It was probably the only thing they had in common.

They piled into the cab together, and though Ezekiel hated being sandwiched between Allens and Miller, he made the best of it, joining in on their raucous laughter and raunchy sense of humor as best as he could, as convincingly as he could.

The bar was like any other bar on Mars or Earth, but this one was for rich people, which meant everything was glass(made from premier Martian sand), black metal, and sported bizarre, artistic architecture. Ezekiel was vaguely aware of geometric shapes spiderwebbing across the high ceilings, dangling glowing strings of neon lights that flickered at intervals.

The waitstaff was beautiful, of course, and skimpily dressed, which was doubtlessly why Allens liked this place so much. Ezekiel was dreading the first shot of tequila as a lovely young woman with barely contained breasts bent unnecessarily far over to pour the golden liquid into his shot glass. He held it up to the light, admiring the laser-etched engraving that depicted Ophiucus, the non-zodiac constellation. Many places that chose to celebrate the founding of Mars's first dome mistakenly thought it had happened while Mars had been circulating through Sagittarius, but it was actually Ophiucus, the Serpent Bearer. The son of the man who had founded that first dome appreciated the bar's small gesture for its accuracy.

Ezekiel brought the shot glass to his lips, but before he could take it, there was a sudden outcry from the rest of the table.

"Speech!" Miller demanded, and the others at the table began to agree rowdily.
"Speech! Speech! Speech!"

Ezekiel sighed, desperately wishing he could fire the man for prolonging his headache. Instead, he only shook his head.

"I don't think-"

"Ahh, come on, kid," Allens chimed in, the man's grinning face framed by the two women coiled on the table's lounge seats on either side of him. "We worked hard. Let's hear what you have to say about it."

His jaw clenching, Ezekiel pasted on a white smile that he turned on the rest of the coworkers at the table that Allens and Miller had invited along. They were looking at him expectantly. With a deep breath, Ezekiel made a show of standing up, brushing off his torso and straightening his jacket and tie. He raised his shot glass, and the table fell quiet.

"I've heard enough of my own voice for a while. Fantastic job, everyone! Now let's get drunk!"

It was, apparently, exactly the right choice of words, because they were met by whooping and hollering and, at last, the table dissolved into alcoholic indulgence.

Ezekiel sat back down and began the task of getting as drunk as he could as fast as he could. Time rolled over him in a hazy blur. Allens and Miller drifted down the lounge seats to push their women at him, encouraging, but the thought of tangling in sweaty flesh at the moment made the young man feel sick. He didn't want any of this - this life of sex, drugs, alcohol, then powering through a murderous hangover the next day just to be barely pain-free by lunch, launch straight into intensive board meetings after, and then do it all again the next evening.

It had been weighing on him more and more lately, and had reflected in how he treated his employees. Ezekiel knew this, but all the same, he couldn't stop. He had no way of stopping. This was his life. It had been decided for him - a long time ago. And he was suffocating.

Just when Ezekiel was about to try and fabricate some excuse to leave, hoping he'd been part of the revelry long enough, his phone buzzed.

Brows furrowing in confusion - his mother was a strict, in-bed-by-ten kind of woman, he and his siblings weren't on speaking terms this year, and all of his "friends" were right here. Ezekiel patted his hip, feeling for the slender rod of metal.

Then it buzzed again, and Ezekiel stiffened. It was coming from his chest pocket. From his...personal phone.

Ezekiel slipped a hand into his inner jacket pocket and tapped the edge of a different slender metal tube. The end of the tube where he tapped with his fingertip blinked red, then green as it confirmed his fingerprint. A small one-sided hologram of his phone screen flickered to life. His breath caught in his throat, Ezekiel glimpsed the text he'd received from an instant messenger.

[You have 30 seconds, slave. Do not make me wait.]

A ripple of heat and anticipation washed over Ezekiel. The tension in his shoulders eased, the throbbing pressure of his headache receded. Quickly, he stood, extricating himself from the table, and slipped out before anyone noticed his absence.

It took him maybe five seconds to locate the bathroom, as this hangout was Allens's, not his. Ezekiel fought to keep from dead-on running to the door with the simple toilet symbol on it, but he did lengthen his strides and make it only a few more seconds.

Thankfully, the restroom was empty but for him, and Ezekiel rushed into the first stall. His hands clammy with excitement, he fumbled the cell out of his pocket, just in time to see the messenger app's normally white screen flip over to a black one. The device began vibrating again as a video call rang him, the red and green accept/decline buttons appearing.

Ezekiel tapped the accept button as quickly as possible, and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Finally."

Ezekiel's breath stuttered and he felt a warmth overtaking the excited butterflies in his stomach.

"On your knees."

"...Yes, Master," he said, crouching and laying the phone face-up on the bathroom floor. He tapped the holo-cast button on the video chat screen and his master's masked face sprang up into the air before him, their displeased glower a welcome sight. The voice they used was computer-generated, and their mask and leather gear hid any clues to their sex. The mask was black leather with gold thread, sculpted into the shape of a snarling dog snout, the only visible part of Master's face the penetrating black eyes visible through the eyeholes. They wore a hood over top of it, and a leather mantle covered their neck and shoulders, which was all he could see from the hologram.

Ezekiel knelt, tucking his feet neatly under his buttocks, laying his hands palm-down on his knees. His palms were already getting sweaty from excitement. The cloth of his trousers grew hot under his touch.

"Recite it to me, and undress."

"I am your secret, though you are not mine to keep. I am your pet, though I am one of many." Ezekiel's hands shook as he slid his jacket off, unbuttoned his shirt, undid his belt. "You are my everything, though I am..." Ezekiel's mouth dried with exhilaration as he uttered the word: "...insignificant."

He had removed his upper clothes; now he waited.

"...show me."

Ezekiel's heart raced. He stood, and dropped his trousers to the floor in one fluid motion.

His groin was encased in a pair of red lace panties, draping with small pearl beads. The pearl beads were a sign of his proven loyalty to his master, that he only touched himself for them, indulged in play for them, only thought sexually about them. He'd started with plain black panties. Next up the tier were black with beads, then red, then red with beads, and finally - white. White meant his master would finally fuck him in person. If things went that far. A year ago Ezekiel wouldn't have even imagined he'd be rushing to a bathroom stall at the command of text on a screen. But things were different now.

"Show me my property."

The words made said property ache with excitement. Ezekiel caught his breath and took hold of the panties at his hips, drawing them down to his thighs. This revealed thigh-high stockings affixed to the panties via garter belt, a sheer maroon that highlighted the vivid red panties. Ezekiel stepped out of his shoes and draped his pants over the grab bar bolted to the stall wall. Then he stood, hands held behind his back, body arched, displaying himself. His master grunted in approval at the sight of Ezekiel's cock.

It was already throbbing, though not quite erect. The cock-corset his master had mailed to him a year ago was in place, just tight enough to prevent him from climaxing, but comfortable enough he could - and did - wear it all the time. The ring was a band of soft leather, laced up the bottom of the shaft, and that too was red, with white ribbon lacing.

"When was the last time you touched yourself?"

"The last time my master instructed."

"When was the last time you desired your master?"

Ezekiel gulped.

"Always."

His master chuckled, like always. They loved it when he answered like that.

"Good boy." His cock twitched eagerly at the praise, and Ezekiel whimpered softly. "You have earned your reward."

Ezekiel's cock lurched into an erection and he began to pant.

"Turn around."

He did so, and bent over, spreading his ass cheeks for the hologram.

"Excellent. I see your ass beads have not been disturbed since they were inserted."

"N-no Master," Ezekiel whispered eagerly. The master sighed, and Ezekiel tensed. Was something wrong?

"If only my other pets could be as obedient and reliable as you. You've progressed faster than any pet I've ever owned."

Ezekiel trembled in excitement at the words, then his master's voice rang in his ear with a sharp warning.

"Do not let that go to your head." Ezekiel swallowed hard.

"N-no Master. Never."

"Good. Now let's begin. Assume the position."

Ezekiel turned back to face the hologram and raised one foot to rest on the toilet. His master normally preferred him entirely naked, but in public places always instructed him to keep the stockings on to protect his feet from bacteria. Master always thought of such little details. Master took such good care of him.

Ezekiel angled his body so Master could clearly see not only his cock, eager and straining in the custom made corset, but his asshole as well, with the anal bead plug firmly in place.

"Excellent conformation, my pet. Now, take your cock in your hand."

Ezekiel's heart hammered in his chest as he wrapped his hand around his cock.

"And now, take hold of the plug tab." Ezekiel did so, gripping the silicone tab that stuck out a half inch from the base of the bead plug. "Twist it." Ezekiel gasped and swallowed, then adjusted his grip on the plug tab and obeyed. He moaned as the stiff bead chain moved inside of him for the first time in a week. His body had settled comfortably around it, and the protein shake diet master had kept him on had been more than enough to sustain him at a healthy level. Master had insisted on providing the protein shakes themself, despite Ezekiel being more than financially capable. They were high-grade, used by astronauts, and expensive. But then, an important part of his relationship with his master was that Ezekiel had no clues to their identity.They could hardly afford to admit anything about their financial situation.

"Harder."

Ezekiel whimpered and began to twist the beads inside of him more aggressively. His hand twitched on his cock.

"Did I see you attempting to stroke your shaft?"

"N-no Master!" Ezekiel gasped. "No, I promise!"

"Good. You will not move your hand until I say so."

Ezekiel bit his lip with the effort of just placidly holding his erection in hand while he continued to stir the beads inside of him.

"M-master..." he moaned, his legs beginning to shake.

"Yes, my slave?"

"I-I...my insides...they feel..."

"Tell me."

"They feel like...they're getting stirred up..." Ezekiel broke off and panted, the warmth in his stomach overtaking his thighs and groin.

"Good. It will take a long time to prepare you to endure my cock. Stimulating your boy-cunt is only the beginning."

Ezekiel whimpered and arched his body at the derogatory term for his asshole.

"M-Master...please..."

"Yes, my slave?"

"Please...am I...does this...please you?"

"Yes. You're doing very well. Tighten your hand on your cock."

Ezekiel did so, the breath catching in his throat.

"Now stroke yourself."

"Ye-Yes," Ezekiel exclaimed, and began to do so, stroking himself as he twisted the beads inside of his asshole. "Whatever...pleases...Master..."

"Play with the tip of your cock for me."

Ezekiel groaned and began to fondle his tip with his fingertips, gently squeezing and probing at the opening of it, teasing himself.

"Do you want to come, slave?"

"Oh- oh...Master...Mmm, yes..."

"You'll have to prove to me that you deserve it. Pull out three of your beads. Keep stroking while you do."

"Ye-Yes Mas...ter..." Ezekiel found it difficult to keep both hands moving as both tasks demanded attention. He stroked himself slowly as he tightened his grip on the plug tab and began to pull, carefully, carefully, and one of the beads popped free of him quite suddenly.

Aware that he was in a public bathroom, Ezekiel clapped a hand over his mouth to quell his cry of pleasure. The moment passed, and he immediately replaced his hand on his cock, shaking as he realized what he'd done.

"Slave."

"Y-Yes Master."

"You disobeyed me."

"Master, I - "

The hologram disappeared as the caller hung up.

Ezekiel swore quite loudly, slamming his fist into the wall of the bathroom stall. Trembling, he roughly shoved the bead plug back inside of him, jammed his erection down inside his panties, and yanked his clothes back on.

He crouched to pick up his phone, but found himself unable to stand up right away. He stayed, huddled over his phone, and against his better judgment, he began frantically typing.