LEATHER SHINE
The new stylist watched the famous pop star carefully as he tried on the first pair of tight brown leather pants. The singer’s face twisted in annoyance.
“These are too shiny… too tight. I look like a freak,” he muttered, tugging at the material that clung to his muscular thighs and ass.
The stylist stayed calm. “Trust me. The camera loves this. Leather makes every muscle look bigger.”
Over the next few weeks the stylist kept bringing more pieces — tight leather pants, shiny vests, and tiny black briefs. During every fitting he would talk soft and slow while rubbing oil on the pop star’s already glistening chest and abs.
“Feel how it holds your body… how it squeezes your cock when you move… doesn’t it feel powerful?”
At first the singer still complained. Then one afternoon he stood in front of the mirror in just the leather pants, oiled skin shining under the lights. He ran his hands over his own chest, down his abs, and pressed against the thick bulge that had started growing.
“Fuck… why does this feel so good?” he whispered.
The stylist smiled and handed him a pair of black briefs. “Put these on under the leather. You’ll understand.”
The pop star obeyed. The moment the leather pants zipped up over the tight briefs, his cock got rock hard. He started rubbing himself through the shiny material, hips rolling. The friction was insane — hot, slick, and tight.
He came the first time still standing, shooting hard into the briefs while moaning like a slut. Cum soaked through the fabric and made the leather even shinier.
“Again,” he begged, already stroking himself through the wet pants.
The stylist just watched as the famous singer dropped to his knees, pants half-open, black briefs stretched around his still-hard cock. He kept rubbing, gasping, chasing another orgasm. His second load exploded across his own abs. Then a third, body shaking, leather pants sticky with cum and oil.
From that day on the pop star couldn’t get enough. Before every show he would lock the dressing room and beg the stylist to dress him in the tightest, shiniest leather possible.
“Make it tighter… I need to feel it squeeze my dick,” he would pant, already leaking.
And every single time, he would cum multiple times just from rubbing himself in the leather, completely submissive to the fetish the stylist had carefully planted in his head.
The stylist never had to force him.
The leather did all the work.
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