Donald Trump's Leather Slaves Assemble Without Their Master

Woe to the submissive who is bereft of master. What is a sub to do without a dom? Who is there to tell him to insert the butt plug with the pony tail? Where does one crawl and to whom does one present his ready anus? "Should I keep the ball gag in or take it out?" the leather slave must wonder. "And this mask. Zipper open or closed? Can I loosen the nipple clamps? What about this cock ring with a leash? Do I hold it myself? How do I step on my own balls?" God, how confusing, all that hair unpulled, all that skin not spanked, whipped, and, occasionally, punched.

Last night in Des Moines, Iowa, an assemblage of seven leather slaves stood on the stage while their master, Donald Trump, had abandoned them for his own event. "God," Rand Paul thought, "he's going to jack off and doesn't want me to lick the floor clean?"

Oh, sure, the leather slaves attempted to soldier on without Trump, having something of a debate, but mostly we were treated to the sight of seven lost souls going through the motions in assless chaps or tight thongs or, in the case of Cruz, one of those creepy full-body leather outfits. They occasionally were able to act on their own, like when they all piled on Marco Rubio and rolled around, sweating against each other over who was meaner to immigrants. And Ben Carson was like a reverse Bill Cosby, making himself fall asleep so he could get fucked.

Sometimes, sneering Megyn Kelly seemed to be taking charge of the whip, but she was a poor substitute for Trump, who, with a wave of his hand and some blustery phrasing, could cause even a rampaging Chris Christie to avert his eyes and beg to lick Trump's nipples.

It was hard to figure out who was the most pathetic figure on stage. Perhaps it was Ted Cruz, who tried to act like he could be a harsh dominant when he said, "Gosh, if you guys ask one more mean question I may have to leave the stage." In Cruz's head, it must have sounded like he was doing something brave, but even he had to realize that by imitating his master, he was, in fact, honoring him. Cruz will be well-rewarded by having the privilege of keeping Trump's balls warm in his mouth.

More likely, the saddest leather slave on stage was Jeb Bush, who acted as if he was finally free from the cruel shackles that Trump had placed on him. Bush was brave enough to take some jabs at his master: "I kind of miss Donald Trump. He was a little teddy bear to me. We always had such a loving relationship in these debates and in between and the tweets. I kind of miss him. I wish he was here. Everybody else was in the witness protection program when I went after him." No doubt, Trump will be amused by Bush's pitiable and lame swipes. It'll be the blindfold and the perforated paddle for Bush.

Setting himself up as the leather slave most likely to be punished harshly by his master, Marco Rubio kept attempting to puff up his credentials and his conservative bona fides. Rubio kept mentioning his Christianity and the prison camp at Guantanamo Bay, as if one could actually reconcile those two things. He confronted his master by trying to make the world even scarier than Trump does: "ISIS is the most dangerous jihadist group in the history of mankind...They want to trigger an apocalyptic Armageddon showdown." Trump shall be displeased, and he will make Rubio's approach literal by forcing the senator to eat certain foods and exercise vigorously in a way that causes him to shit himself. Rubio will be ordered to wear the shit pants for the rest of the night.

Ultimately, Trump maintained his dom position by making the night all about him even when it wasn't about him. He could hold his rally for veterans or whatever the fuck it was, but his heart and his cock were with his leather slaves. He wanted them to suffer without his presence. This was just another exquisite torture by their master and none of the leather slaves were brave enough to say, "I'm sick of being Trump's bitch" and walk away. So that must mean that, on some primal level, they love it.