True confession: My ass is my weakness.

For some, you grab their cock and you grab their soul. A few get weird about their nipples. For very, very men, it's the stomach - give them a piece of pie and they're putty in your fingers.

For me, play with my cock all you want; it's a soldier (it definitely stands at attention and shoots) that can take your abuse. You have to know what you're doing to work my nipples, they're funny that way. But just start a fingertip down the valley at the base of my spine and my whole body starts to pay very close attention to what you're doing - or about to do. Run a tip across the portal and I gasp. Press in just a knuckle length, and I can't keep in a little telltale moan. Explore deeper, and my whole body begins to react involuntarily, loosening up, positioning for penetration whether I want it or not. Touch my prostate, and my body will betray me without a second thought.

If I feel your tongue there, all rational thought collapses and can't be restarted, replaced by a single desperate drive: Please. Fuck. Me. The longer the tongue remains, the more desperate the drive, until it becomes a mental scream.

I once kept this weakness a carefully guarded secret from Tops, especially Dominant Tops, and particularly from Sadists, who seemed to take great delight in discovering how much control they could obrtain over me, and how easily, with an attack on my ass. One such discovery, by a Dom Top named Master Rick in Cincinnati, led to my first realization of what sexual submission to another man truly felt like, when it wan't just pretend. The experience changed me forever.

I had traveled two and a half hours to visit this man at his invitation. He had been looking, he said, for someone who fit my description, and apparently he liked what arrived at his door. Not a lot of time was spent in pleasantries. He told me to strip in front of him next to a bed that had been fitted with ropes for attaching to restraints. He had me lie down on my belly spread-eagled and tied dow my wrist cuffs. Then he ran his hands over the globes of my ass.

This was a bad sign. If he had been a cock-and-balls man, he would have had me on my back right off to enjoy looking at his new toys, but instead he couldn't wait to get his hands on my backside. An ass man. Sure enough, I soon felt his thumbs slide down and part my halves to expose my hole, and heard him say, simply, "Nice."

Again, true confession: I don't remember a lot of the details that followed, because they went on a long, long, long, long time. There could not have been a square millimeter of my body that he did not touch at least twice, and he penetrated every orifice. My violation was absolutely complete, and he had not even fucked me.

At last, he had become satisfied with his exploration and sampling of my body and raised me up on my knees with my chest on the bed and my ass in the air and began finger-fucking me. He enjoyed doing this more than I can remember most men enjoying anything. He kept at it, sometimes slow and leisurely, sometimes pistoning and rough, sometimes one finger, sometimes more, trying different fingers on for size, trying different pressures on my prostate. He became so engrossed in it that he gradually pushed me upward so that my back was flat against the wall and my lets hung outstretched, all leverage lost; I was completely at his mercy (actually, as it happened, lack thereof).

After he had finger-fucked me for about ten minutes past eternity, it grew uncomfortable and I wanted him to stop. I said, "Could you stop?" but he just grinned and continued, and I realized that this Dominant had me exactly where he wanted me, and this was going to end when he wanted it to, and not before. My whole attention suddenly narrowed onto the small ring between my legs and the sensations coming from it - sensations caused by another man against my will. The more they continued at that point, the more right they felt. My body itself was correcting my thinking, teaching me how to take on the role that I was born to play, helping me to understand where my body and mind belonged in the world of all other men.

He did fuck me later, and twice more before I left the next day. I left with much more than three loads of his seed in my body. He had planted another kind of seed in me, the knowledge that my weakness is simply evidence that I am meant for men to breed. Anytime, anywhere.

But I won't say no to pie.