A gay story: The Slave The Slave – A First Time Story
The following is a fictional account loosely based on the true occurrence of my first experience with gay sex. I have greatly embellished the events and circumstances for my own entertainment and hopefully yours.
The slave auction was organized on campus by a fraternity and its affiliated sorority ostensibly as a fundraiser for the children’s hospital in the neighboring city. Only male students were up for auction to the highest female bidders. The highest bidders would be awarded the “rights” to full cooperation from the purchased male for whatever suited her fancy for one evening within the next 2 weeks. That I was invited to place myself up for auction surprised me, as most of the candidates were the obvious frat brothers and campus jocks. I am short, only 5’6” barefoot. I do have a good build broad shoulders and slim hips, being an exercise freak who was known to workout at the campus gym regularly. I had been invited to pledge a couple of fraternities, but I regarded myself a serious student and feared that the fraternity lifestyle might distract me from my academic pursuits. The co-ed whom I was dating at the time was on scholarship and had no available cash for auction bids but encouraged me to participate anyway.
The event itself was flirtatiously raucous, the air filled with obvious sexual tension. Many of the guys as the auctioneers were presenting them sported ill-concealed erections encouraged by the high-pitched squeals and screams of the mostly female audience. It seemed the more conspicuous the bulge and the lengthier the protrusion tented by the flimsy material of the gym or bike shorts, the longer the available student was exhibited on the stage and the higher the resulting bids.
The captain of the basketball team was auctioned off to the president of the sponsoring sorority for $600. I was one of the last slaves to be auctioned. I did not muster any swell presumably from nervousness. It seemed as though it was hours before the first bid was declared despite the earnest entreaties by the auctioneer who commanded me to strike the silliest poses.
The fact that the winning bid placed for me was only $35 was only the first humiliation. Everyone looked to the back of the crowd as the auctioneer announced the winner. I was bought by a severe looking overweight teaching fellow who was reputed to be a masculine dyke. As instructed, I met with my buyer at the registration table. As I approached her I was accompanied by amused giggles from the girls and derisive catcalls from the guys.
“Relax Shorty“, she scornfully intoned. “I am acting as a purveyor for someone else. Oh, and don’t worry I agreed to keep this a secret with HIM.”
I thought I had misheard. “You mean, her?”
“You heard me right the first time, half pint” she growled with a smirk.
I was thunderstruck. I briefly debated withdrawing from the whole thing. I decided to give the matter more consideration in the intervening week as I did not have to report for “duty” until the following Friday, no later than 9:00 PM. Whenever I focused on this strange future encounter I could not help myself be overwhelmed by a sense of curiosity and feel my dick stir and swell. Ambiguously, I would be disgusted with this response for I had repressed any attraction to others of my own sex.
As the hour of my appointment approached, I rebelliously donned a sweatshirt,
worn baggy jeans, and a pair of worn out athletic shoes: hardly the attire I would have worn on a proper date. I had decided that I would accede to the wishes of my obligatory partner but show myself as uninterested. The address was on the outskirts of town. The residence turned out to be a sprawling bungalow that had probably been a frat house. Upon climbing well-lit porch stairs, I did not have to knock as the “valkyre” was waiting for me at the door with her ugly smirk. She led me inside. To the left was a small parlor partitioned with a stairway. To the right, was a wall partly covered with a bookcase lined with works of various academic disciplines. Beyond this was a closed door. Straight ahead, the hallway led to another closed door.
She led me down the hallway and opened the door to what appeared to be a small butler’s pantry. It was faintly lit with bare tables and chairs, counters, and cupboards. There was another door on the right and one at the other end.
“Now listen carefully,” she spoke with some annoyance. “I am about to give you the instructions of your slave agreement. When I leave, you are to immediately take off ALL your clothes. Having done so, you will knock on this door.” She motioned to the door that was on our right as we entered. “Your slave owner is waiting in the next room. When he responds, open the door and enter the room. From then on, do everything he asks of you and without reservation.” Again, that reptilian smile spread over her face. “You know you could back out of this arrangement right now. But if you do not do EVERYTHING that is demanded of you, I will report you immediately to the Greek Council and your days left on this campus will be a living hell thanks to asshole jocks and sorority bitches who won’t forget.”
The sadistic witch turned to leave out the door we had entered. She paused and turned as she opened the door. “And don’t forget, when you enter that room, you are to be completely naked.” As she closed the door, she cackled “have fun”. I fumed and thought about the tortures that I would inflict on her if only we could meet alone, again. Quickly, I recovered my senses and wondered how I could have found myself in such a bizarre situation as I peeled off my clothing. Again, I was caught up in my ambiguous feelings of revulsion coupled with physical excitement as I contemplated what fate might befall me. When I was stripped down to my boxers, I was horrified to acknowledge my raging boner. I thought I was contributing to a charity function only to find myself embarrassed, humiliated, and possibly sexually blackmailed. It seemed my response to all this misfortune could not have been more inappropriate. My loins were on fire and my cock and balls ached with sexual energy.
“By God,” I thought. I can not let this pervert see me in such a state. I desperately tried to think of something dull to assuage my excitement. I tried to think of the problems in my calculus assignment. Whatever came to mind, thoughts about the immediate future would resurface and I couldn’t contain my arousal. To the contrary, by now my shorts were off and I was shocked to see that I was copiously leaking pre-cum from the end of my 6 1/2” uncut cock.
My dickhead was a wet swollen red knob with the foreskin almost completely stretched back. I was frantic, getting cold, and wondering how I could change my physical state.
Suddenly I heard the she-wolf bark from the other side of the door, “get on with it buster or I will strip you myself and drag you into his room by your blonde hairs.” That scared me to knock on the assigned door immediately. Better to take my chances with this slave driver then to be thrust upon by such an apparition in my state of distress.
From behind the appointed portal, a gruff, slightly gravelly low pitch voice yelled, “come in.” I tentatively, opened the door just enough to look in and yet still conceal my nudity. The room was nearly dark as drawn curtains or blinds must have screened out whatever street light would filter in the room. Only 2 or 3 candles were lit on the floor and low end tables, rendering most of the room pitch black. The candles were lit on my end of the room, and 2 more on regular height tables at the very back. I detected a silhouette seated at the far end of the room, but in front of the back candles. It was obvious that he was supposed to see me well and I was to have sight of him only slightly. The seated figure seemed tall, I estimated at least 6 ’, and the low candle light was bright enough to reveal 2 large rugged looking feet on the floor, adorned only with dark colored flip flops. The light was bright enough still to see the ends of legs with thick mats of hair. In the hindsight of my subsequent physical experience with men, I can now say that I was encountering a major stud.
“I shouldn’t have to repeat myself!”. The low voice sounded almost threatening. I scooted in the room, flushed and shivering slightly, quickly but gently closing the door behind me.
Louder, this voice with dominating authority quipped, “I did not instruct you to close the door. But now that it is closed, leave it so. . . . . Let me look at you”
My heart was pounding. I turned to him frightened out of my wits, stark naked and conspicuously aroused. I almost stuttered as I feebly mumbled, “uhh, I guess because of the strangeness of all this, I’ve gotten hard.“
The silhouetted figure did not seem phased by this remark in the least. Very softly but in that low voice he implored me to “come here.” Now reader, I hope you can appreciate the mixed feelings of a young initiate in this kind of circumstance. I was covered with goose flesh and had never felt so vulnerable in my life. I dreaded what intentions this controller had for me. I was profoundly disappointed in my lack of self-control. At the same time, my distress was being overshadowed by intense physical curiosity and a yearning wish that this domineering ogre would find pleasure in my helplessness and nakedness.
I was not to be disappointed.
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Tentatively but with determination, I took small steps toward my master, my unrestrained wood wagging with each move. I could feel the dampness of the drips of pre-cum under my bare feet that had fallen to the hardwood floor.
I stopped just before I stepped to where his feet were. My cock involuntarily flinched as I wondered what his next move or instruction would be. I realized there must have been enough light for him to see it move and was silently studying the motions.
After what seemed several minutes, I felt him gently but firmly grasp my cock, initially under the pronounced ridge of my dickhead. Large confident fingers explored the length of my joystick, swirling fingertips playing with the sticky wetness of the pre-cum that had now soaked the whole head. I had never had a man touch my erect cock until now, and IT WAS HEAVEN. At the moment I let out a little sigh of pleasure, I heard a little rustling in his chair. Apparently, he bent forward just far enough to stick his large left hand between my legs and start caressing my right thigh. The sensations were so exquisite, I didn’t want him to cease. Stroking my cock with one hand, and groping my legs, underside, around to the bottom of my buttocks with the other. His deft substantial digits were subjecting me to the most marvelous massage of my lifetime. I breathed heavily and focused as he gently fondled and probed my balls through the skin of their sac, checking for size, shape and how they hung.
I loved it how he would firmly caress back my thick blonde bush away from masculine organs, tickling and pressing my pubic bone. At one point, I realize I had unconsciously bent my knees slightly facing outward as well as leaned my hips facing him. Unwittingly, I had enabled him to have a better vantage point to “feel me up” this way.
I would have been ecstatic had this continued all night. As it was however, he stopped, and just as abruptly he cursorily commanded me to turn around. With my back facing him, I was astonished at how rapturous it was to have a man fondle my buttocks. When I first felt his touch I flinched and flexed my butt muscles. I think he liked this because I heard a slight gravelly grunt of pleasure. I luxuriated in the intense feelings as he firmly squeezed and kneaded my buns.
My fright returned to me as he matter-of-factly commanded that I bend over and spread my ass cheeks. Thoughts raced through my mind of a doctor’s check up suddenly gone awry. Once again, I was surprised by the incomparable pleasure of his fingers tracing circles around my puckering butt hole. From time to time his fingers would move down and probe my crotch and the exposed underside of my nut sac. When last he groped around my twitching orifice, he pushed directly against it with two fingers in a stroking motion. Rather than being pained by this manipulation, I was so pleasurably sensitized by it that I found myself leaning back to meet the thrusts of the ramrod handiwork. I instinctively expanded the muscles of my bowels, as if to defecate, to allow those able fingers to penetrate my now inviting sphincter. For a few seconds he stopped stroking and slowly squirmed those digits in my most intimate body part up to a couple of inches, I hoped this would continue indefinitely, but when he tried to squeeze in a third finger, I squirmed with discomfort. Suddenly, he pulled his hands away.
“Stand up and turn around facing me again,” the low voice snapped. I abruptly complied and stood facing him, my cock flinching more than ever, now dripping like a leaky faucet, but also trembling, terrified that I had offended him with my obvious resistance. Again, nothing happened for the longest time as I suspect that again he was studying my fear mixed with obviously excited anticipation.
Clearly resulting from his prior manipulations, he surmised that I was uncut or he would not have insisted on my next movements. I was to pull my foreskin over the head of my dick and stretch it out from there. I was to let him know when I had fulfilled this effort of genital handiwork. Nervously, I fumbled about my slick hard dick struggling to get a hold on pieces of foreskin, the wetness eluding a firm grasp on these small morsels for very long. Luckily he seemed to be patient with my clumsiness. Finally, my fingertips on both hands managed to hold onto bits of outer flesh to stretch my normally superfluous skin over my exposed knob and stretch it out as far beyond the end of my still throbbing cock as I could pull. It was exciting to me that he probably studied me doing this and it felt comfortable to have this flesh once again envelope its familiar partner. I softly spoke that I was finished. His plump fingers with thorough tactile investigation warmly reached out to take hold of my straining organ to softly and securely feel my outstretched skin, the ends of my own fingers stretching the skin, and the covered dickhead. He then ordered me to stop stretching while his fingers still gripped my cock. This was followed immediately by a quiet rustling noise from what I had deduced must be a filled armchair. . . . . .
The moment was ELECTRIC and surpassed every sensation I had been pleasured with to this point. I felt what seemed to be a warm sponge flick the underside of my cock just below my still swollen dickhead. And yet the firm cogency of motion from this sponge suggested it was alive. The feeling of hot breath on my cock and balls was the dead give away that this was the exploring tongue of my master. The heated electric charges that flowed through my loins up through my torso and back down through my legs to my toes is indescribable.
My bucking and flinching cock was being bathed by the tip and body of his tongue from the tip of my expanding pee hole to the root at the base of my thick bush. He sensed that the building heat in my loins was near the exploding point as my moans became louder. He sat back and very gently stroked my shaft to slowly allow me to back away from the point of eruption.
I don’t know how long this pleasing respite lasted, but suddenly I heard him bend forward again and felt my dickhead being embraced by a firm warm wetness and then his tongue swirl around it, generating more of those lustful electric charges. As his mouth gradually slid its way down my shaft, I marveled at how superior a blow job I was receiving from this man than the sloppy half hearted efforts by a couple of girls with whom I had been intimate. I felt every swirl of skillful tongue and every suction against my turgid flesh. My hips reflexively thrust my ramming rod deeper into his mouth and then his throat. Even now, I felt resistance to my situation as it was apparent from the feelings and noises what it was that he was pursuing with gusto and unabashed enthusiasm. My intellectual insistence to not surrender my climax to him only intensified the buildup of heat and tension in my nether regions. I could no longer sublimate that I never reveled so much in my naked state, never felt SO ALIVE. This was by far the most deliriously sensual and erotic moment of my life.
My cock banging against the squishy walls of his relaxed throat was more intense than I could bear. This was the sensation that triggered the unmistakable churning in my balls that every male past a certain age knows to be the point of no return. The wave of ecstatic heat and release passed from balls to loins to the root of my dick, through the passageway of my cock, and squirted out my gaping pee hole into his mouth and throat. Wave after convulsive gut wrenching wave of heated cum squirted out of me. The back of his tongue flinched against my orally gripped organ in response to each effluence of liquid offering. I had ejaculated with the greatest intensity of my life and I do not know if I have ever shot out so much cum in any orgasm since then. The climax seemed unending. After carefully swirling his tongue around my now softening manhood one last time to assure himself that he swallowed every last drop, he released me.
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At this point, I believe we were both breathing heavily. Before he completely caught his breath I heard a loud rustling in his chair. He evidently was writhing to remove an article of clothing and his hair matted calf pleasingly brushed up against my ankle in the process.
When the sounds ended and he seemingly was sitting up in the seat as before, he slowly and deeply spoke, “now it’s your turn. Get down on your hands and knees and place your head above my lap.’
I felt almost resentful but not surprised as I obeyed this command. I felt almost instantly revived as I caught an exhilarating whiff of his man scent. My eyes had now better adjusted to the dark and I beheld before me his thick majestic fully hardened cock resting against his lower abdomen. I had seen other men’s erections of course in straight porn, and I had always imagined myself indifferent to them. I was hardly indifferent to this magnificent specimen however and couldn’t take my eyes off it. Oh, if there was only more light in the room to better observe the details of my newly discovered “objet d’art.” It must have been at least 7 1/2”, cut, with a sumptuous “straight arrow” dickhead, the ridge sloping to an artful curve. It had a stunningly wide girth and a substantial tunnel that ran along the underside from the base to the dickhead. Two impressive orbs hung from a mature low ball sac. This mesmerizing display was surrounded by a beautifully curled and tousled heavy bush, which more than a couple inches up lightened to a handsome graze, spread over the entire lower abdomen.
I think he approved of the trance like expression on my face. I was practically drooling and I felt the same heat build up in my loins. Once again I felt my own male parts stir and swell with renewed passion. Satisfied that I was stimulated by what I saw, he more good naturedly commanded me to gently grab hold of his penis, observe it and stroke it. But more menacingly, he insisted that I was not to look up from his lap. Throughout his session of dominance, he was to remain strictly anonymous. Furtively but decisively I reached out for the gorgeous living sculpture that pulsed with my grasp. The heat that leapt into my hand and the silky smoothness that covered this turgid fleshy wand was a defining moment in my life. I hope the reader will not be offended when I say that being granted the privilege to handle and more carefully study this vivacious living appendage was nearly a religious experience. At this moment, all inhibitions and negative feelings about my homosexual impulses evaporated instantly. I knew this delicious man meat, complete with its heat, its veins, its smoothness, and its unmistakable animal magnetism was about to be mine and I CRAVED IT!!
In an instant, I was joyful that I was attracted to men and that there were men who were probably attracted to me. I was enthralled with the prospect of mutual bodily pleasures between men. I knew that I was just embarking on an adventure in my life that would bring me thrilling satisfactions that I had heretofore never imagined. Most of all, my animus toward my captor was no more. It was replaced with affection and sincere reverence. I felt sexy as I never had before, contemplating what explicit practices he would require of me. I would now eagerly oblige his every whim. The painful embarrassment, the humiliations were swept aside and well worth it as I pondered that their consequence was my exotic and erotic metamorphosis. Ironically, the fact that that miserable amazon had won me in that tawdry auction was the best stroke of good fortune I had ever known.
My contemplation was interrupted by a thrilling new command. Very simply, but authoritatively he demanded, “now lick it all over.” I nearly head punched him in the stomach as I lurched forward darting my tongue out to oblige him. First, I cleaned off the salty pre-cum that was oozing out of his pee hole. I then swirled my tongue all around his springy dickhead and under the ridge. My tongue lapped over his hot vein-popping smooth shaft, from the ridges to the base, his thick man bush tickling my nose, its aroma making me giddy. His musky taste and smell were a sensational turn-on for me. Up and down his animated and throbbing pillar of flesh I would lick, my tongue strokes ever increasing in firmness and confidence. I was gratified that he evidenced pleasure with this exercise, as I heard little low pitched moans and grunts gurgle from the deep recesses of his throat. At one point, he groaned for me to lick his balls. Happy to oblige, my tongue moved lower over his wrinkled sac and further to taste the responsive springy orbs that hung down there. Realizing I was only giving him pleasure, I daringly sucked one ball part way into my mouth, running my tongue over the sac that covered it then proceeded to the next.
Nearly shouting, he blurted out his next request. “Now take it in your mouth, but watch your teeth. Take your time. Relax and try to take it down your throat. I intend to cum in your mouth and you are to swallow every drop of it.”
This at first seemed a daunting task. I wondered how I was going to get this living beast in my finite mouth, but I was hungrily determined to do my best. I opened my mouth pulling my teeth away from my lips and led in his spongy dick head. I enveloped my lips over it and swirled my tongue all around. By now he had placed his warm large hand firmly over the back of my head. He was prompting my head lower, and my mouth glided slowly down his long thick shaft,
my tongue furiously stroking up and down and all around. I was mustering all the suction I could apply on this hot pulsing smooth wet pole and it tasted wonderful. In seconds, this seemed the most natural and pleasurable activity there is. It was as if this was another vital function of the mouth: to suck cock.
The fact that in my 19 years, this was the first time to engage in such a delight was inexplicable to me. I strained my ears to listen to his louder grunts and groans over the din of the almost deafening slurping noises evoked by my greedy ministrations to his throbbing wet pleasure pole. I was now determined to take his dickhead to the back of my tongue and into my throat, as if to swallow this delectable male organ whole. By now, he was face fucking me and I had learned to relax by taking deep breaths from my nose to help diminish the gag reflex. The thrusts of hot cock were now bouncing against the back of my mouth and my throat opened as if to begin swallowing it. As I was dangling his big balls with one hand. I crammed his huge meat down as far as I could with the other. Suddenly, his thrusts stopped, my fingers felt the balls do the telltale dance in their sac, his cock impaled down my throat gave one fabulously expansive throb and I felt what must have been long strings of heated cum shoot down my throat. He was gurgling out long throaty moans of pleasure as he discharged a flood of pearly passion into my vitals.
After releasing him, we both were breathing hard again, this time in a state of exhaustion. Again, before completely regaining his breath he spoke. “You are a good slave and a good student. But I am not finished with you yet. Before we continue, you need some rest. Listen to my instructions carefully. Get up and leave the room through the same door you entered. Exit the room you took off your clothes through the same door you entered. This will lead you into the front hallway. Climb the stairway at the front of the house. At the upstairs hallway take your first right. You can sleep in the bed in that room. If you need a bathroom, there is one directly across from the hall where you will be sleeping. The upstairs is completely dark. You are not to turn on any lights on upstairs except in the bathroom and only for as long as you need it. In the meantime you are forbidden to put on any clothes. You will remain completely naked until I instruct you otherwise. Now go and rest. I will meet you in the bedroom when I am ready. “
I arose without saying anything, plodded off by the candles to the door, my bare heels making thumping noises against the wooden floor, and entered the barren pantry, carefully closing the door behind me. The clothes in this dimly lit room were draped over the furniture just as I left them. I was relieved that the officious woman had not stolen them. When I opened the door to the hallway. the comparatively bright lights nearly blinded me. I had no idea how long I had been imprisoned in relative darkness. I wondered out loud as to the time and proceeded to the stairway as my eyesight adjusted to the light. I was startled part way upstairs by the presence of a full-length mirror hung just above the banister, that I had not noticed on my arrival. For a fleeting moment I perceived that a naked colleague was accompanying me upstairs. Even though I was again cold and still completely defenseless in a strange house, it felt good to be naked and sexual. I winked at myself as I passed that mirror and noticed that I had begun to harden again.
At the top of the steps, it was unlit, as my master had assured. I opened the first door on the left, quickly felt for a light switch by the doorway and turned it on. Sure enough, it was the bathroom, complete with old-fashioned fixtures and installations. I lifted the seat off the toilet, secured my semi-rigid dick in my fingers, and peed contentedly in the bowl. For some reason, the tinkling sound of my pee hitting the bowl water sounded like music to my ears. I lowered both the seat and the lid, washed my hands in the sink and dried myself on an especially large fluffy towel draped over a rack on the door.
I remembered to switch off the light as I left. I crossed the hall and entered a very dark bedroom. I could barely make out a large barred bed at the far end of the room, as this room was also evidently draped tightly and I proceeded cautiously to the bed hoping that I would not bump into any indiscernible furniture on the way. Upon arrival, I pulled back the covers and gleefully climbed in. The clean sheets felt marvelous against my naked skin. Thus began a lifelong habit of sleeping in the nude, with or without a partner.
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I was awoken what seemed only minutes later by my master calling out to me. He was standing astride my bed, again, his form only vaguely silhouetted. He had apparently pulled back the covers and sheets to reveal me sporting a nocturnal erection. He ordered me to get out of bed and prepare for my next slave session. He stepped aside in the darkness and told me to walk straight-ahead 5 paces. After doing so, he slipped behind me and told me not to turn around. He said he had a flashlight. He told me that with the aid of his directed beam of light I was to walk out of the room, cross the hall, and enter the bathroom. As I obeyed, I noticed the lights in the hallway downstairs were off. Without the flashlight it truly would have been nearly pitch black.
Once in the bathroom, he told me to wait where I was until he joined me there. By now, my erection was no longer nocturnal. Dripping pre-cum again, I wondered what erotic adventures he had in store for me. Would we perhaps shower together?
In the bathroom behind me, he shone the flashlight at the bathtub and told me get in it and lay down as much in the center of the tub as I could facing up. As I carefully lifted my leg over the high ridge of the huge tub, my wet cock swaggered in the beam of light aimed on it. The surface was cold to the touch of the palm of my foot and I realized that the tub would feel cold to my nudity. As I lay down, I shivered with the stone coldness against my backside. He nearly shone the flashlight in my face the whole time he climbed in with me, careful not to step on me, his large bare feet straddling my firm love handles as he stood over me. Only old bathroom accoutrement could accommodate two people in this fashion. He told me to lie perfectly still as the flashlight snapped off and I heard a rustling of clothing on him. For a moment there was complete silence before I heard him let out a little cough and suddenly I heard and felt the piddling flow of warm water fall on my still excited genitals. The acrid odor alerted me to the fact that he was peeing on me. Slowly the stream of warm urine moved up my torso. Rather than be offended, I was enjoying another intensely intimate experience and welcomed the warm wetness spray on my cold dry epidermis. Eventually the stream fell full force on my face and I had to spit to keep from tasting the salty acridness. As the intensity of the stream diminished, it ended on my now drenched midsection. He told me not to move and he carefully climbed out of the tub. He told me to get up and lean against the wall opposite from the fixtures. He explained that now we were to shower, but he was to wash me. I was not to touch him at all.
Following his instructions, he climbed back in the tub in front of me. He told me he would adjust the faucets to the right temperature. I heard the strain and squeal of turning faucets and the rush of warm water emitting from the showerhead. Again, he climbed out of the tub and drew the curtains. He told me to stand directly under the shower. The water flowing over me was just the right temperature. It felt great. I heard a rustling of clothes through the rushing water. He pulled back the curtain from behind me and this time climbed in where I had stood. I suspected that for the first time he was completely disrobed in my presence. Suddenly, I felt a bar of soap and his prodigious hands on me.
It was thrilling to be attentively washed by another man from head to toe. He even lathered my hard cock and shampooed my adjacent bush. Before rinsing me off, he stuck the bar of soap up the crack of my ass and then fingered around my rectum to insure that I was clean to his satisfaction. When we were both out of the tub, he tossed me the large fluffy bath sheet I had encountered before and told me to towel myself off. When I finished, I was to cross the hall and walk into the bedroom from whence we came and sit at the bedside. I noticed that he did not directly cross into the bedroom but hurriedly walked down the hall presumably to another room.
Before I was ready to cross the hall myself, he had returned and pointed the flashlight into the bedroom to assist my walk to the bed. Sitting on the side of the bed, I heard him walk up to me. I felt him reach for my right hand and place it on his own fully hardened cock sticking out straight at me horizontally. It was an unbelievably pleasant re-acquaintance. In my other hand he shoved a tube of something. Presumably a tube of lubricant for he insisted that I squirt dabs of the stuff on to my fingers and spread it out over the whole length of his penis.
I was then ordered to spread a towel he had handed me over the bottom-fitting sheet of the bed. He told me to climb over the towel on my hands and knees, doggy style. I felt the heave as he climbed on the bed behind me. I dreaded the event that was to take place next, but I believed it to be the ultimate test of my affection for men. I earnestly wanted to pass it. He told me that if I wanted, I could rest my head on a pillow, but the top of my head had to be resting against the brass bars.
Instead of greasy fingers invading my butt hole, I next felt him spread my ass cheeks with those brusque digits and then the unmistakable feel of his tongue skillfully flicking about that region. Rapturous new pleasures were mine again. I found myself thrusting my hips backward to meet the sweeping licks at such a sensitive spot. I gasped as he prodded his tongue into the bull’s eye, parting the encirclement of my fortunate sphincter. Soon tongue was replaced with coated fingers, and my conditioned posterior greeted the stroking penetration with ease and pleasure. This welcome invasion was short lived.
The bed shook and strained as I sensed his adjustment of position behind me. My heart pounded with the return of the sense of fear mixed with excitement. In my newly defined sexuality, I knew this was going to be the moment of truth for me. He sternly but calmly instructed me to reach back with my hands and spread my ass cheeks. He advised me to push my ass muscles as if I was going to fart. I next felt the hot fat head of his man rod press against my quivering butt hole. With a few high-pressure thrusts he managed to breach my virgin cavity easily enough. I heard the brass bars rattle as I believe he had leaned over and stretched his muscled arms to grab the bars to steady himself as he entered me. What happened next nearly caused me to regret this whole episode. With a single decisive push accompanied by an animal like grunt, he thrust the whole length and width of his prodigious man meat into my visceral tunnel. Tears streaming down my face, I let out a cry as I believed I had been split open from the inside out.
For a minute, there was no motion or sound. My head against the pillow, my impaled ass supported by my knees, the pain began to subside. Slowly he started stroking my stretched orifice and the pain miraculously gave way to intense glowing pleasure. If anything, I desired him to increase the pace and depth of his thrusts. Joy of joys, this was the intimacy of intimacies. This was the ultimate in loving bonds between men. I relished his great manly salami ravishing my lust filled bowels with ever-increasing intensity.
That a man should have his erogenous internals so primaly stimulated by another man’s inflamed manhood now seemed the most natural thing in the world to me. After 19 years, it was another revelation to me that the butt hole is another intensely pleasurable genital. By now, his large hands had slid down the brass bars and his sweating manly scented torso was just above me. At times I thought I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck. He was panting heavily; obviously engrossed in the intense pleasure he was deriving from my tight ass. Suddenly, his strokes stopped as I felt his hot gristle expand against the walls of my bowels one last time. Instantly, I sensed his warm wet syrupy discharge spray over my highly sensitized prostate. This excessively sensual moment brought me over the edge and I effusively squirted out my own building load of cum onto the towel beneath me. The intensity of our simultaneous ejaculatory spasms made us both sing out a litany of grunts and moans in an earthy mating song. In this final moment of passion I had made another remarkable self-discovery. In this latest round of initiation, my cock had never been touched before reaching climax. This night had truly been an education in erotic sensibility.
He rose out of the bed almost instantly and exited the room with the aid of his flashlight. I lay for a few minutes contemplating the not unpleasant stretched feeling in my backside. Feeling my master’s cum trickle out of my butt hole on to the towel beneath me was oddly comforting. Remembering that he had allowed me the use of the bathroom, I walked into it not needing the aid of any lighting. I turned on the light, used the facilities, and remembered to turn off the light before walking back into the bedroom to lay on the bed once more.
A few minutes later he stood at the doorway. His flashlight beam was directed at my naked body sprawled out on the bed for a few minutes before he spoke. Eventually he made his last declarations.
“These are my final instructions. When you leave here, you will never return to this house. You are to never attempt to find out who I am. In a minute, I will go downstairs to turn on some lights. Roughly five minutes later, you will come downstairs and proceed directly to the room where you undressed. After retrieving your clothes you will exit this house the way you entered it. Make certain that you do not enter any rooms not mentioned in these instructions.”
He briefly cleared his throat and in an almost endearing inflection he said, “you proved yourself an excellent and ultimately willing slave, but we will never meet again. Somehow, I believe this night has changed your life forever.”
With that, he turned and I heard him descend the stairs, realizing that I would never hear that sexy mellifluous voice again. I honored his final instructions scrupulously. As I walked away from that house of mystery in the chill of the dawn, first light was revealing itself over the horizon. I strolled back to the campus aware that I had been transformed into an aficionado of men and their bodies.
Gay pornography became a passion with me. Within days, I discovered that there was a thriving bisexual community in this campus town. It accepted me readily and unconditionally. Girlfriends would arrange clandestine rendezvous. The reward for their efforts would be to act as encouraging voyeurs to the incessant orgiastic couplings of their committed male companions. The males in turn would enjoy the physical encounters between female intimates.
At present, I enjoy a full range of gay sexual activity with my lover, sometimes in the presence of good friends. I still sometimes ponder the mystery man who introduced me to the superlative delights of man-to-man sex.