Scout

Little did I imagine when I agreed to due a favor for a former girlfriend a few months ago that it would lead me to my first wild experience in man-to-man sex, bareback. Debra and I had dated for a while in college and ended up in the Bay Area afterwards where we were both in graduate school. We were still friends, so she asked me to help her on a school project. As part of her training to be a sex therapist, she needed to learn about gay men and their social life. She wanted to visited a gay leather bar, but the place would not admit a woman unless she were with a male patron. She asked me to be her escort. I knew of my own strong sexual interest in men, of course, but I had never acted upon these feelings or told her about it. Sometimes, though, women have a sixth sense about us. Debra knew more about me than she let on. When I showed up at her place, she told me she’d dress me for the leather scene. The next thing I knew I was wearing a black leather vest, studded leather wrist bands, tight leather shorts with a removable crotch piece that extended around to my ass, and leather work boots. “My, you look like a fag,” she remarked, in a matter-of-fact tone. The words stung a bit (I certainly wasn’t comfortable with the label then) and I reddened. Then I looked in the mirror I saw a gay man ready to cruise looking back at me. It felt weird – odd, yes, but also very erotic. I got an erection on the spot that I had a hard time concealing in my very tight shorts. She drove us in her car to the bar. Several men standing outside noticed me and whistled and made lewd remarks. Again I felt embarrassed but turned on. No man had ever made sexual suggestions to me and their comments made me aware of myself, or at least the parts of me they seemed to admire – my tight little ass, my slim build, my thick, pouting lips. Once we were inside, Debra turned to me and said with a smirk, “You’re going to be very popular in here tonight, sweetie. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” And then she pulled out her notebook and pen and excused herself to do some interviews with the leather-clad gentlemen around the bar. I bought myself a beer and began to look around. Immediately I realized that I had never seen so many gorgeous men before. Most were attired in revealing leather vests, pants, and even a few thongs, and many wore various kinds of harnesses. Some were magnificent, muscular physical specimens; others were hairy and heavyset. There were also a few who looked more like me: smaller and slimmer, short hair and neatly trimmed beards. I took a deep breath and decided to enjoy the sights and fantasize about a couple of the hunks who caught my eye. While I was lost in my thoughts, I felt someone come up from behind. Before I could turn around, a hand caressed my ass and another was wrapped around my chest. A man pressed against me from behind. I tensed up, near panic, and looked around for Debra, but she was across the room. The stranger behind me licked my ear and whispered, “Hello. What have we here: a pretty little chicken, a cherry ripe for picking. I want your ass tonight, sweet thing, and I mean to have it.” I tried half-heartedly to squirm away, but his forearm, beautiful and muscular, barred my escape. “I’m here with that woman,” I replied, pointing to Debra. “She needed a guy to get her in. She’s just doing some interviews.” My captor was not impressed. “I saw who you came with, but she ain’t who you’ll be leaving with. No, boy, you and I both know you WANT to be here. You’re a bottom man, a little butt boy, and I’m gonna teach you everything you need to know about pleasing a top before this night is out.” With that he let go and stepped away. I turned around to get a look at him as he walked around the bar. From behind he was built like a Greek god -- six feet tall, rock-solid muscles, a handsome tatoo on his chest and others around each bicep, dirty blond hair under a cowboy hat. He wore work boots, leather pants, and a harness. Studded leather bands adorned his well-defined biceps and thick wrists. Then he turned toward me and I saw that his face was as beautiful as the rest of him. His eyes were grey and he had a sexy stubble of beard. Our eyes met for a moment and I involuntarily ran my hand thru my hair, a flirting gesture I had seen many women perform. Then I tried my best to ignore him and my surging heat and desire to have him take me in any way he wanted. I looked away and checked out the other patrons. But every few minutes he’d pass by me, rest his hand on my butt, and even kiss my neck. Soon I stopped protesting. I realized I had to get out of the place soon or I’d be at his mercy and begging him to do whatever he wanted. Debra was nowhere to be seen, so I decided not to wait for her. I paid for my drink and headed for the door. My gorgeous admirer stood between me and the exit, a half-smile/sneer on his face, staring at me. I dropped my eyes but I was turned on by his gaze and felt like teasing him, too. Walking with one foot directly in front of the other, I wiggled my hips a bit. As I tried to pass him, he grabbed me. Before I knew it, he had pressed me back against the wall, my arms pinned behind me, his body pressed close to mine. I could smell the intoxicating aroma of his leather garb. His thigh found its way between my legs and my cock stiffened even more. I was overwhelmed by his strength and manliness, his steely grey eyes just inches from mine. “What’s your hurry, pretty boy,” he snarled. “You’ve been teasing me with your little ass all night, and now I want it.” “Let me go,” I protested weakly. “I’m not even gay.” “Then why are you still here?” he grunted. And then his mouth met mine. I tried to squirm away, to keep my lips closed, but I was helpless in his grasp. My inner desires, now bursting to the surface, took over. I stopped resisting his kiss and opened my mouth in surrender. His tongue entered, the most intense, deepest kiss I’ve ever experienced, one I never wanted to end. I sighed in pleasure and relief. With that he released his grip on my hands and embraced me. I made no effort o push him away – no, instead my hands began to explore his body, trace the incredible muscles on his bare arms. As we kissed I sensed someone watching. I broke our deep lip-lock for a moment and turned to catch Debra staring intently at us, with a knowing look. She winked at me and smiled. I said to her, “I think I’ve found what I need here.” She replied, “The two of you look so sexy together. Do you mind if I watch what happens next?” A shiver of excitement went down my spine. My new Adonis led me by the hand through a door in the back of the bar and down some dimly lit stairs, Debra trailing behind. We had to squeeze past men making out; one cute guy was down on his knees happily sucking the cock of an older teddy-bear type. I realized I did not even know my companion’s name, so I asked him. “In here they call me Drummer,” he replied. “And we’ll call you Sweet Lips, because you have such a pretty mouth.” We continued through a corridor with many small rooms. Some of the doors were closed, but through the open ones I saw male couples or groups engaged in all manner of hot man-to-man sex. I licked my lips and trembled with anticipation. Finally, Drummer found an empty chamber. Inside, under a bare light bulb, I saw a mattress covered with cum stains and a few pillows, the walls fully mirrored. Maybe not the most romantic spot to be deflowered, but I was too turned on by the whole experience to care. Drummer wasted no time. He kissed me fiercely, then pulled back and gazed down at me. “On your knees, Sweet Lips. Let’s see what that mouth is good for.” I kneeled before Drummer. I rubbed my face around his crotch, inhaling again the delicious scent of leather and sweat. With my tongue I traced the outline of his dick and his balls, then I started lapping. I felt Drummer fumbling with something and suddenly a leather band went around my neck. He ordered me to look in the mirror. I wore a studded black dog collar; he held my leash. I had never seen anything so sexy in my life. “Thank you,” I murmured. He yanked the chain up so our eyes met. “Say ‘Sir’ when you speak to me, Sweet Lips.” “Thank you, sir,” I replied, happy to submit, and I dropped my eyes. I resumed licking his crotch and was rewarded as the growing bulge showed his cock hardening. From somewhere within me a moan arose, my lust overwhelming all self-restraint even though Debra was right there. “Please, sir, let me taste your cock,” I heard my voice begging. Drummer grunted his approval and I pulled down his zipper. My reward was a beautiful piece of manmeat – his tool was a good deal longer and thicker than my own five inches, and it curved up. The mushroom head glistened with his pre-cum. I grasped his cock and stared at it for a moment, finally savoring the sensation of a handful of hard male flesh that I had dreamed about for so long. Then I started to pump Drummer’s cock and brought it to my lips. I ran my tongue back and forth across the tip, reveling in my first taste of jism. Right away I knew I was hooked for life. It was delicious! I took more of Drummer into my mouth and heard him grunt his approval. His rough hands on the back of my head forced me to swallow more of his manhood, until he hit the back of my throat and I started to gag. “Breathe and relax, boy,” he commanded me. I nodded and followed his directions. I couldn’t get all of him into my mouth, but he seemed quite satisfied with my first effort. Sometimes I bobbed up and down on his dick; then I’d stop and he’d fuck my willing mouth. From his moans and quickening thrusts I realized it wouldn’t be long before I was rewarded with my first load of warm, creamy spunk. Drummer’s body tensed, his head went back, and then his dick pulsed in my mouth and spurts of man-cream flooded my throat as I heard him roar his pleasure. I gulped eagerly, trying not to lose a drop, but a little seeped from the corner of my mouth. Then he eased his softening shaft from my mouth and rubbed it around my face, a trail of cum anointing me into the world of cocksuckers. “Congratulations,” Debra said softly. “You did that like a natural.” Drummer pulled me to my feet by the leash and kissed me deeply, his cum and our saliva mixing. Then he directed me to strip and kneel on all fours on the mattress. As I obeyed, he removed his leather pants, so he was just wearing his harness, studded bands, and boots. Drummer knelt behind me. Then he smacked my bare butt, hard, and I yelped in pain and surprise. Quickly, though, I realized my mistake. “Thank you, sir,” I gasped. He spanked me again. My cock had gotten even harder. Then I felt his tongue on my behind and in my crack. He found my butthole and gave me my first rimming. The sensation of his tongue, as it penetrated my shit chute, was electric, and it sent hot flashes directly to my rigid dick. After a few minutes of this intense pleasure, Drummer paused for some lube. He greased up a finger and inserted it in my waiting ass. I took him easily. A second thick finger soon followed, and by then I was groaning with pleasure and dying to be fucked. “You want it, Sweet Lips?” Drummer sneered, mocking me. “You want my big cock in your cherry ass? Just like I told you when you first got here.” I looked behind me and saw that he was erect again. Debra said to him, “Maybe you should use a rubber.” Drummer just laughed. “Not in here, sister. This place is bareback only. Isn’t that what you want. Sweet Lips?” Now I begged for it. “Yes, sir. Please, sir. I need your cock, I need it so bad – like I’ve never needed anything.” I couldn’t believe I was saying these things, not with Debra still standing there. I didn’t care about the risks. For me at that moment nothing in the world mattered but to feel Drummer’s raw meat inside me. He kneeled behind me, spread my ass cheeks with his strong hands, and pressed the head of his dick against my butthole. I felt the pressure of the slick mushroom-shaped knob and winced at the burning sensation. “You can do this, boy,” Drummer coaxed. “Relax and push back on me.” “Yes, sir, I’ll try.” He pushed harder and I felt a stab of pain. Despite my lust I tried to pull away. “Ow, no, it hurts too much. You’re just too big.” Drummer slapped my ass, hard, and yanked on my dog collar to remind me of my position. “There’s no turning back, Sweet Lips, if you want to be my bottom boy.” He instructed me to breathe deeply and push back. His greased hand went under me and began to stroke my stiff dick. Suddenly, with an odd rippling sensation and soft sound, his dickhead surged passed my sphincter and into my back passage. “Oh, God, yes, yes,” I groaned, overwhelmed by the most intense pleasure I had ever experienced, radiating out from my ass so that my whole body trembled. For the first time I really knew what it meant to “take it like a man”! Drummer went deeper and deeper until I felt his coarse cock hairs brush my ass cheeks. He leaned forward and I turned my head to tongue kiss him over my shoulder, sealing our moment of intimacy forever. “Thank you, sir, thank you for taking my cherry,” I murmured between kisses. Drummer pulled out slowly, leaving just the head of his shaft inside me, then pushed in again. He repeated his strokes, sometimes faster or slower, and each thrust sent a different kind of wave thru my boi-pussy. I had never dreamed that a cock could create so many erotic thrills as it penetrated another human being. He pressed a thick finger against my lips and I sucked it hotly, fantasizing it was another cock. Debra came over to me and rested her hand on mine. I smiled at her and said, “He’s fucking me, Debra, he’s really fucking me. It’s incredible. Why did I wait so long? This is the manliest thing I’ve ever done.” She gave me a little peck on the cheek. “I understand. You belong here now.” She told me she was leaving and to have fun – as if I needed the advice! When she had gone, Drummer pulled my leash to lift my head and whispered in my ear, “No more women for you, boy, right?” “Yes, sir,” I eagerly replied, knowing I had crossed the line into male sex for good. He sneered in triumph, “You’re a bottom man who’ll take any cock up his ass. You’re a faggot, and you love it.” Now when I heard him use that word it made me feel warm and excited, and I rejoiced in my new, true identity. Drummer reached beneath me and began to stroke my cock in time to his thrusts. His hand was coated with lube and felt so smooth as he jerked me off. Before long, all the sensations – Drummer’s thick dick plowing my butthole, his coarse beard stubble rubbing against my shoulder, my glimpses of our fucking in the mirrors, his tongue probing mine, and his hand pumping my cock – sent me over the edge, bucking into a mind-blowing orgasm way beyond any sexual peak I had ever experienced. I heard a voice crying, “Fuck me, sir, yes, fuck me, oh, I’m cumming, yes, YES!” and realized it was my own. Drummer gripped me tightly, buried to the hilt, as my ass convulsed around his dick. My arms collapsed, and my face rested on my leather wrist bands. “What a ride,” he chuckled as I lay motionless and exhausted. “Thank you, sir,” I replied. Though I was spent and satisfied, Drummer still had to take care of his needs. He pulled himself from me, leaving me empty for a moment, and turned me onto my back. When he rested my ankles on his shoulder, I realized I was about to be fucked like a woman. A thrill of excitement shot through me as I felt his dickhead press on my waiting fuckhole. He eased right in this time. I groaned as the sensations – the fullness, the warmth – again washed over me. I loved being able to play with his rock-hard stomach and his perfectly formed chest, to run my small hands over his thick wrists, my fingers tracing the metal studs on his wrist bands, and up his arms. I pinched his nipples and smiled at the reaction I provoked, for Drummer began to long-stroke my ass. Enjoying the new pleasure of letting my partner control the pace of our fucking, I clenched my ass muscles when he was deep inside. I felt like a slut and I started to talk like one. “Use my ass, sir. It’s your boi-pussy. Fuck me all night, sir, never stop fucking it. Seed me deep. It feels so good. More, sir, give me more.” His thrusts became faster, more urgent, more needy, until I felt one final great surge that I thought would split me apart. Pressing my legs down against my chest, Drummer kissed me deeply, his tongue plunging into my throat. I imagined the jets of his hot cum shooting deep inside me, the pulses slowly receding. Drummer went on kissing me for a while. I figured we were done, but he surprised me. “You were so good, Sweet Lips, now I’m going to introduce you to some of the other real men here. You’ll service them next.” I meekly agreed. Truth is, I was still so horny, I needed more. Drummer hooked my leash to a nail and left me naked on my knees. Although a couple of cute guys looked in, the leash told them I was someone’s property and they left me alone. Two minutes later Drummer came back with two men. One was a gorgeous surfer blonde who wore work boots and a studded leather ring around his cock and balls, the other a bearded, older man with a round belly, powerful arms and thighs, a leather harness, and a very thick dick. Drummer introduced them: the blonde was “Beach King,” the bearded gentleman was simply “Daddy,” which seemed apt. Daddy took my leash and order me to lie on my back on the mattress. Without any preliminaries, he proceeded to straddle my chest and grip my head with his strong hands. “I hear you’ve developed a taste for cocksucking, Sweet Lips,” he said, his voice deep and commanding. Then he shoved his half-hard cock between my waiting lips. I opened wide to pleasure him. He thrust his manmeat deep into my throat, nearly gagging me. As I sucked furiously, his dick became stiff and oozed salty pre-cum on my tongue. I was able to run my hands along the backs of his large, muscular thighs, an incredible turn-on. Meanwhile, Beach King lifted my legs, pressing them against Daddy’s back, and probed my shit chute with one finger and then another. It was a strange sensation: pinned under Daddy, I couldn’t resist even if I had wanted to (and I sure didn’t want to object, as great as those fingers felt). I couldn’t even see my next anal lover. Then I felt the bulb of Beach King’s cockhead pressing against my sphincter and heard him grunt as he entered me. He slipped in easily, deeply, for my back passage was now used to man love. I could feel his cock ring with its studs rubbing against my ass cheeks with each inward thrust. Moans of ecstasy escaped my throat, muffled by Daddy’s cock. I was dimly aware that Drummer had come over to the mattress. His feet planted on either side of my head, he stood over me and offered his cock to Daddy, who swallowed it eagerly. My own dick was rock hard again from the friction of Beach King against my prostate. The room was alive with the sound of rutting men in heat and my almost-girlish moans; the smell of leather and sweat mixed with the funky aroma of my ass as Beach King plowed me for all I was worth. For me, who before this night had never had sex with more than one woman at a time, the entire scene was from somewhere beyond my wildest fantasies. Beach King came first, giving me what I wanted most, a throbbing dick shooting wads of jism into me. Drummer followed, filling Daddy’s mouth with warm cum, some of it dribbling down into his beard. Daddy pulled himself from my mouth and ordered me to stand up. When I moved too slowly on my trembling legs, he turned me around and spanked me. “Thank you, Daddy,” I promptly answered, now well-schooled to the discipline I deserved. He led me off the mattress toward a mirrored wall and ordered me to stand with my legs apart, arms braced on the rail in front of the mirror. While he pumped his cock a few times, I looked at myself in the mirror, cum on my face and hair, and saw a stranger gazing back, eyes glazed over with lust, a creature devoted to carnal pleasure. Yet I knew this was the real me, and I smiled. Encouraged by Drummer and Beach King, who stood next to us with their arms around each other, Daddy stood behind me and prepared to give my willing ass the love I craved. The large bulb of his dickhead pushed against my anus. Though I had taken Drummer and Beach King, neither small, I hadn’t experienced anything the size of Daddy’s piece. “Oh, it’s really big, sir,” I winced. “I don’t think I’m ready for it.” I should have learned by now that leather tops do not take no for an answer. Three sharp whacks on my backside brought tears to my eyes. “What did you say, faggot” Daddy barked, and yanked on my leash. I apologized and begged him to give me the fucking I needed. He pressed his thick tool against my anus while pumping my dick. Once more I felt, almost heard, the odd rippling sensation as my back passage stretched to accommodate the enormous intruder. I gasped when the head eased past my sphincter and heard Daddy mumble, “Good boy, Sweet Lips, take it in slowly.” Though Debra had left, I imagined her staring at me again, shocked at what she had caught me doing. Somehow that thought made me relax to take Daddy in. He eased in very carefully, pausing often to let me adjust. “God, he’s a tight one,” Daddy boasted to the other men. It thrilled me to accept the challenge of being fucked by Daddy while these beautiful, macho men looked on. I gave voice to my delight. “Ohhh, Daddy, you’re incredible. I never felt anything so wonderful in my life. I want all of you, sir, please.” In a few minutes, I felt the hairs of his crotch scratch my ass cheeks – he had buried all of himself inside me! Daddy began to plunge in and out. He went slowly for a few strokes, then rapidly, then slowly, concentrating on his own pleasure. I felt like the well-used fuck slut I had become, and that thought excited me. Nothing mattered to me but pleasing Daddy. Sometimes he’d pause when he was deep within me and rest his enormous bulk on my back, his warm, round belly pressed against me. Then he leaned back and said, “Get to work, fag, and show me how you can use that little butthole.” As he held still, I began to bounce forward and back on his shaft, grunting each time he penetrated me to the core. Drummer and Beach King coaxed me, praising me for being such a terrific boy-whore. I reached beneath me to fondle Daddy’s heavy balls. That seemed to send him over the top. He pushed me forward, my face just inches from the mirror. Daddy thrust hard and fast, his balls slapping loudly against my thighs, and finally gave one last lunge that felt like it would come right through me and out my throat. The heavy pulsing of his cock, the shuddering of his body, and his heavy sigh told me that I had brought my third manlover of the evening to orgasm in my ass. When Daddy slid himself from me, my clenching ass muscles were reluctant to let go. I felt satisfied but empty, and I knew that the void would have to be filled again soon. Each of my top men kissed me tenderly. A look at the clock told me it was past two in the morning – I had been sucking and fucking for more than three hours. As I pulled my leather pants on, I thanked them for the best night of my life. Drummer told me he expected me back again the next night to continue my education. “What more is there to learn, sir?” I asked innocently. “Tomorrow,” he replied, “I put you in the sling and you learn to take my fist.” As he held up his clenched hand to my face, my eyes widened in fear and lust, but I knew my place. “Sir, I’ll come back tomorrow night.” And so I did.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” My wife’s voice, cold as ice, cut right through me. I was naked on our bed, absorbed in a gay porno video, fucking myself with my thick, 8-inch dildo. My wife had left for a client meeting and wasn’t supposed to return for hours. I had prepared everything for a long, happy jerk-off session. I was wearing my leather dog collar and gay pride jewelry. I didn’t hear her come back into the house. “Surprised, aren’t you, honey?” she said, with a sneer. “I guess you weren’t expecting me home so soon. My meeting was cancelled.” I felt my face turn bright red with embarrassment. I slowly began to pull the dildo from my ass. “WHO TOLD YOU TO STOP?” she shouted. I froze, the dildo half in my ass. She told me to turn on my side with my dick facing her. She came over to the bed and lay down beside me. I could smell her perfume. “You’re so hard, honey. I haven’t seen you with an erection like that in a long time.” She reached around me and pulled out the dildo. It was coated with lube. She inspected it and let out a low murmur. “This is really big. Not like your cock. You must practice a lot to be able to fit that in your butt hole.” I said nothing. The video was still playing. In it, an older muscle bear was fucking a smaller, younger man. The volume was up and the top’s manly grunts and the twink’s girlish “ah” sounds were clearly audible. My wife stared at the screen. “I guess we know which one you’d like to be,” she said with open contempt. My wife handed back the dildo. “I told you not to stop. Shove it back in and go back to fucking yourself. You were having such a good time.” Her face was twisted in a vicious smile. Humiliated by her words and her tone, I realized I was also more aroused than ever before in my life. I didn’t try to resist. I began to move the dildo in and out and a moan escaped my lips. My wife leaned close. “I hate fags. You know that. They make me sick. And now I discover I’m married to one.” She got off the bed and left the room. I didn’t stop plugging myself with the dildo. In moments, she was back, camera in hand. I paused. “DON’T YOU DARE STOP, FAGGOT!” she ordered in a voice so loud I was afraid our neighbors would hear her. I resumed sliding the dildo in and pulling it out. My ass was on fire; precum oozed from my dick. In the video the top was grunting harder and telling his partner he was going to seed him. I heard the camera clicking as my wife snapped pictures of me. “I want to hear you say it, honey. I want to hear the words from your own lips. Come on. Tell me what you really are.” “I’M A FAGGOT! YES, YES, I’M GAY. I LOVE MEN!” I cried out. And then I shot my load, a warm, sticky puddle of jism soaking into the sheet beneath me. “Yes, you are, honey,” my wife replied. “I’m sure that with these photos you’ll give me no trouble during the divorce.” She dipped her hand in my cum and rubbed it all over my face, forcing some into my mouth. Then she walked out.

I suck you off and swallow most of your first load. My close-cropped beard is matted with your cum. You are starting to get hard again. We both understand what is next. When we arranged this date, we didn’t pretend it was about anything but sex and my willingness to serve as an object for your pleasure. I lie on my back on the carpet and pull my legs up and apart. You say, “I want you to remember this, faggot,” and snap this picture. Then your tongue finds my hole. I feel the wetness and the warmth. A moan escapes my lips. You follow with a thick finger, then a second, stretching me. The heat increases. Now I am moaning and gasping steadily. My little dick is rock hard. “Please, sir. Please. I need your cock.” You take a tube of lube and rub some on your dick and into my hole. We had agreed that you would use a condom but you do not offer and I don’t ask. You move to your knees, propping yourself on one powerful arm. You guide the tip of your cock to the tip of my hole and slide in easily. I remember when I first had anal sex this part would hurt and I would ask my top to go slowly. But there have been many men since then. You are deep inside me now. I feel your balls against my ass. I am completely full with your manhood – it seems as though your dick will come out my throat, you are so far inside me. I start to pull on my own dick, but you push my hand away. “Faggots don’t deserve to cum,” you mutter. I grip your thick forearms instead. My hands seem dainty and girlish. You are thrusting deep inside of me and pulling nearly all the way out. I hear your loud grunts and feel the mounting tension in your body. This isn’t about me at all. You never flatter me or say I’m cute or attractive. You are a Man and you need to plant your seed in a cunt. My ass is that cunt. When I open my eyes, I see male passion on your face and – yes – contempt for me, a male who has let himself be reduced to a pussy. I feel humiliated and insignificant. And it feels right, at this moment. You cum inside me with a deep, manly grunt. It is sound I’m incapable of making. As your thrusts subside, you pull out and rub some cum around my gaping hole, then thrust back inside me to leave the rest. Your cum will ooze from my boi-cunt all night. “Thank you, sir,” I say softly, as you finally pull out. “You’ve got a lot to thank me for, faggot,” you grunt. You don’t say another word. You reach for your clothes, pull them on, and walk out. You never even asked me my name.

“Recognize these?” My wife’s voice was cold as ice as I saw what was spread on the bed in the hotel room. There lay my leather gear, my gay pride jewelry, two dildos, and many photographs of gay sex. I looked at my wife, her face ablaze with fury, tears in her eyes. She picked up my leather biker cap and harness. “Put them on,” she ordered. *** I have always known I was gay or at least bi, although I had never had sex with a man. When I was younger I had trouble having orgasms during sex with women until I started to fantasize that I was the one being fucked. I told myself it was normal for straight men to have homoerotic fantasies or to enjoy variety. My deep denial made it possible for me to marry and have two kids, while my man-lust remained buried. But that didn’t make for a great sex life, and I began to play out my gay fantasies in private by buying gay porno magazines and videos. Over time my sexual fantasies about men got darker: leather scenes, mild (and sometimes not-so-mild) S&M, and older, hairy bear-types. I’m of average height and slender, and I was always the bottom. And my fantasies were always about being fucked bareback, even getting pozzed. I remember when I found an isolated adult bookstore a few miles from my home and bought a studded leather dog collar and a dildo. The first time I wore the collar and worked the well-lubed dildo into my virgin ass in front of the bathroom mirror was a moment of revelation for me, the greatest sexual high I had ever experienced. I had put on one of my wife’s pretty watches and two of her rings for the occasion. I knew what I was: an effeminate butt-boy, longing for a rough, hairy stud to teach me my place. When I shot my load, great gobs of jism spurted all over the bathroom. I scooped it up and tasted it, loving every warm, salty drop. Once I started, there was no turning back. I wanted more. I purchased other fetish gear on-line – a biker cap, black work boots, a studded cock ring, sexy tight leather shorts with a snap away strip over my ass and crotch, and a harness. I bought the same kind of watch my wife wears, with a thin, black leather band and round white face – unmistakably feminine. Then came a rainbow bracelet and ring, and a male symbol ring. Because my wife worked in the city and I often worked out of the house, I had lots of time alone at home for my fantasy fetish session. I figured out how to make a “man” from couch cushions and other household items. I would spread a sheet on the floor, grease the dildo, and pleasure myself in every position I saw in the videos. It’s clear now that as time passed I started to get a little careless about where I hid my toys and my photos. The kids had gone off to college, so there were fewer curious eyes to worry about. Usually I put the stuff away in the attic and covered the box with other bins and boxes. But as I found more times for elaborate jerk-off sessions, I relaxed my precautions about concealment. I downloaded pictures from internet sites and forgot to erase them. Once I left a gay video open on my computer screen for a couple of days. Probably I should have suspected something when my wife’s demeanor changed. She became cooler and started to avoid sex. That part didn’t bother me much because my overheated leather sessions kept me well-satisfied. I noticed sometimes that my box with my leather gear seemed to be in a slightly different position, but told myself my memory was at fault. Then one day, out of the blue, my wife began to act very friendly again and suggested a weekend at a hotel in the city to rekindle our fires. Still loving her and wanting to keep her happy, I promptly agreed. We would meet after work on a Friday when I knew I had to be in the city all day. She told me she would pack everything and meet me in the hotel room. *** My wife was waiting for me when I arrived. She had changed into a skimpy black negligee. I found her pale, smooth skin alluring and moved to embrace her. “Wait,” she said. “I have something special to show you. Go into the bathroom and take off all your clothes. Wait until I call you.” I did as she instructed. A few minutes later she said, “OK, come out here.” Her tone had changed; I noticed a harsh edge to her voice that took me by surprise. Opening the bathroom door, I received the shock of my life when I looked at the bed. My wife stood with her arms crossed, her eyes ablaze. Confronted by the evidence of my homosexual fantasy life, I gulped and felt my face redden in shame. As I started to mumble a lame explanation, she silenced me with the order to don my gear. Maybe if I had not been caught off guard, I would have refused or simply put on my clothes and left. Instead I obeyed, as my wife offered nasty comments. “I see you know just where everything goes. You must have had a lot of practice. No wonder you don’t have the energy for NORMAL sex,” she sneered. She picked up my biker cap and held it. “Don’t forget the cap – it wouldn’t look MACHO without the cap.” The icy contempt in her voice cut through me like a dagger. As I pulled on my gear, I felt my cock stiffen involuntarily. I turned to hide it from my wife. But as soon as I was done, she walked over to me and reached for the snaps for the crotch cover in my tight leather shorts. The flap covering my cock, my balls and my butthole came off in her hand, and my five-inch dick stood up, hard as a rock. My balls felt swollen already. She grabbed my right wrist, on which I wore my pretty woman’s watch. “Just like mine, huh?” she asked. “Except on you it makes you look like a girlie-man. That’s what you are, isn’t it?” “Honey, OK, these are just fantasy objects. They don’t mean any...” “SHUT THE FUCK UP,” she screamed, in a voice louder than she had ever used in an argument.“Do you have any idea how HUMILIATING this is to ME? To know you go prancing around like some LEATHER FAGGOT?” Tears now streamed from her eyes. I hung my head in shame. “NOW PLAY WITH YOURSELF,” she shouted between sobs. When I hesitated, she demanded, “I SAID DO IT. YOU KNOW YOU LIKE IT.” I was afraid someone would call the front desk or something. Embarrassed as I was to be standing there with my wife, it would be much worse to be seen this way by a stranger. “OK, dear,” I replied. “Just lower your voice. I’ll do what you say.” I began to pump my stiff cock, which swelled even more. There was something incredibly exciting to be doing that in front of her. Then my wife snapped the leather cock ring tight around the base of my dick and balls. With the increase in pressure, I felt precum start to ooze profusely from the tip of my prick. Again she gave an order: “TASTE IT.” By now my will to resist her demands had collapsed. I ran my index finger over the tip of my dick, collecting the slick prick juice, and licked it off. “I bet that’s not the first time you’ve tasted your own cum, right?” I nodded, avoiding her gaze. “And you like how it tastes, don’t you?” I nodded again. “YOU’RE DISGUSTING! I FEEL SICK, JUST LOOKING AT YOU. I’M PHYSICALLY SICK.” She was breathing hard, her cheeks flush with anger. “How many other men’s cum have you tasted?” “None. Honey, believe me, I’ve never had sex with anyone but you since we’ve been married. You have to believe me...” “Really?” she asked, more a statement than a question. “Then it’s time we proved that you really are a queer.” With that she walked over to the door connecting our room to the next one. I saw that the door on the other side was already open. And then it hit me: we were not alone. *** “Come in here, Eric,” my wife said. “I want you to meet my husband.” In walked a big, burly, leather-clad hunk of a man. If I had to conjure up my fantasy leather daddy, he’d look a lot like this heavy-set stud who stood before me. He was a good four inches taller than me and weighed at least 250 pounds. (I’m only about 150 pounds myself.) Beneath his leather cap his hair was close-cropped; he gazed at me with commanding blue-grey eyes; his thick beard was streaked with grey. He wore a studded leather harness tight across his furry chest and his big beer gut, and leather bands around his thick biceps. His huge thighs were encased in tight black chaps. His cock, long and heavy and already swelling, hung open between his legs. He, too, wore a cock ring. Eric walked across the room and extended his hand. I shook it and he continued to hold it as our eyes met. “A pleasure, boy, a pleasure,” he said. “I’ve been looking forward to this ever since your wife told me about you.” My mouth was dry. His grip sent a bolt of sexual electricity through me. This man could do anything he wants to me, I thought. I just nodded. Eric reached out with his other arm and pulled me into an embrace. I felt our cocks rub together, both stiffening. Nothing had ever felt more wonderful, more natural, than being in this man’s powerful arms, feeling his big belly press against my slender waist. I sighed aloud. At first my arms hung by my side but then, as though they had a will of their own, my hands began to run up his thighs, across his hairy ass cheeks and around his back. Eric’s hands found my little butt and squeezed. I felt his bristly beard rub against my close-trimmed one and then his lips brushed my neck. His hot breath there cause me to sigh in pleasure. Without thinking about it, I started to rub his back and arms, savoring his strength. From the corner of my eye, I caught my wife’s hate-filled glare. “KISS HIM!” she ordered. I turned my face toward Eric’s and his lips brushed mine, once, twice, then our mouths locked together. He grabbed my dog collar so I could not retreat – not that I wanted to. I parted my lips and his tongue thrust between my teeth and explored my tongue. He tasted raunchy, traces of cigarettes and beer. I loved it. “God, I HATE FAGGOTS,” my wife raged. “FUCKING QUEERS. That’s so UNNATURAL.” She told Eric to sit on the chair by the desk. Then she turned to me. “Get on your knees in front of him.” I did as I was told. “Now suck his dick.” I took it in my hand but hesitated. Eric’s dick was much bigger than my dildo. I was afraid I’d gag on it. My wife, though, would brook no resistance. “You know you want it, girlie-man. SUCK IT!” I looked up at Eric. He smiled at me. “Better do as the lady says, boy, or I’ll have to get rough with you.” I brought my lips to the mushroom-shaped head of his dick. It was smooth and glistened with his precum. I swirled my tongue around the tip. The first taste of his salty man-cream sent a shiver down my spine. This is what I’ve always wanted, I thought, and I’m finally doing it. I opened my mouth and slowly drew as much of Eric’s meat in as I could. I felt his body tense and a deep grunt escaped his throat. His pleasure thrilled me. I began to move my head up and down, sometimes pulling off him to swirl my tongue around the outside. Then I lapped his balls as I pumped his shaft. “You’re a natural cocksucker, boy,” Eric gasped. His words filled me with a new kind of joy, the joy a gay man feels when he discovers he can please his partner sexually. As I drew Eric’s dick back within my mouth, I heard a clicking sound. I realized my wife had our camera and she was taking pictures as I went down on Eric. I stopped sucking his dick and looked at her. “What are you doing?” I asked in disbelief. “You HUMILIATED me, you bastard,” she cried. She was visibly trembling with anger. “And now I’m going to get even with you. EVERYONE’S GOING TO SEE THESE!” Eric broke the tension. “Don’t worry about it, boy. We both know that you’re through with women. What do you care what she does with her fuckin’ pictures?” And I knew at once that he was right. I was enjoying man sex far too much to ever go back. *** “Lie down on the bed, boy,” Eric instructed me. I did as I was told. He straddled my chest and his bulk trapped me as his stiff cock waved in front of my eyes. I could not have moved him off me if I had tried. I realized that this is what it means to be dominated. “Open wide,” Eric demanded in his firm, quiet voice. “I’m going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours.” I parted my lips as I was told and was rewarded with thick, hot manmeat. Eric thrust in and out of my mouth, and I gagged. “Please, not so hard, I can’t,” I whined. He laughed and shoved it right back in. I grasped his thighs and thrilled at the sensation of the leather. My wife leaned over, still taking pictures and still making nasty comments. “I hope he CHOKES you with his dick, you queen. YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A FUCKING COCKSUCKER! THAT’S RIGHT, YOU MISERABLE HOMO FAGGOT!” Her words turned me on even more. I sucked with new enthusiasm and the instinct to gag subsided. Eric went deeper in my throat and my dick got even harder. Abruptly he stopped. Eager to swallow his load, I was disappointed. He swung around and presented his ass to me. It was huge and hairy as I ran my hands across it. “Taste my ass, boy, get your tongue in my shitter.” With that he pressed his crack against my nose. All I could see, all I could feel, were his vast, hairy cheeks. I smelled the funky aroma of sweat and butt juice. With my tongue I explored around his butthole. Soon it was slick with my saliva. Then, tentatively, hesitantly, I probed his anus with my tongue and worked it inside. I was rewarded with a loud moan. “That’s it, boy, get that tongue in deep. Yeah, let me feel it.” Eric’s words sounded far away. My wife leaned over me. “God, that’s GROSS,” she cried. “I’ve never seen anything so FILTHY in all my life. ALL YOU FAGS SHOULD BE ARRESTED FOR THE THINGS YOU DO! YOU’RE PERVERTED! SICK!” Eric had been holding my cock and pumping it gently. Now he brought it into his mouth and swallowed it to the base. I felt his lips brush my crotch hair as he deep-throated me. I thought I would die from ecstasy. My wife always hated sucking me and would stop after the first dribble of precum. As Eric pleasured me, I responded in kind. My tongue thrashed about, in and out of Eric’s shithole, lapping as if my life depended on it. *** “I want you to fuck him, the little shit,” my wife said sharply to Eric. “That was our deal. You promised you’d fuck him without a rubber.” Eric withdrew, leaving me breathing hard, prostrate on my back. I could scarcely believe what had been happening – and what was about to happen next. Eric went into the other room and came back with some lube. My wife glared at me; I said nothing to her. Returning to our bed, Eric told me to pull my knees to my chest. He then began to lap around my ass, wetting my curly butt fuzz, and followed by probing my butthole with his tongue. The sensation left me writhing and moaning. So this was what it feels to be on the receiving end of a rim job! I thought, I could get used to this in a hurry. Then Eric squeezed some lube on my crack and started to work it in past my sphincter with one of his thick fingers. The whole universe seemed concentrated at one point, my cherry anus, as he worked that digit in and out. I felt a moment of pain as he pressed a second finger into my unyielding hole and I willed myself to relax. “Breathe, boy,” Eric coaxed tenderly. I appreciated the care he gave me. When both fingers were in, I felt my muscles relax. He started a gentle scissoring motion to stretch me. I felt my balls swelling even more. “Tell him what you want, FAGGOT,” my wife sneered. "Say it with a lisp." “Please, Eric,” I murmured, “I want your big cock inside me. I need it. Please – give me what I need.” With that, Eric withdrew his fingers. He pumped his cock a couple of times, making sure it was rock hard. Still on his knees, he moved between my legs and shifted my legs onto his broad shoulders. I felt the tip of his cock press against my waiting butt opening. Our eyes met and he smiled at me as he increased the pressure on my anus. I felt a burning sensation and began to push back against his cock. It felt like a baseball bat was being shoved into my rear as the burning increased. I winced from the sharp pain. But then my sphincter relaxed and the tip of his dick slid into me. Slowly, slowly he pushed deeper into my back passage. The burning subsided, replaced by the most exquisite sense of fullness and completeness I had ever experienced. Eric is fucking me, I thought. My wife is watching Eric fuck me. Oh, God! I can’t believe this is finally happening. As Eric buried himself within me, I gripped his powerful forearms. My hands seemed so dainty. I caught a glimpse of my pretty watch and my pride rings. This is what I was meant to be, a bottom for my manlover’s thick cock. A wide smile of contentment crossed my face, and I uttered girlish cries, “Ah! Mmm!” each time Eric thrust into me. My wife, her eyes wide at the sight of her husband taking another man’s cock, could not contain herself. “YOU SEE! YOU SEE! YOU LIKE THAT! You like being fucked. This is so fucking HUMILIATING! I’m married to a God-damn QUEER, a God-damn, stinking FAGGOT. YOU’RE NOT A REAL MAN – NO REAL MAN WOULD LET HIMSELF BE FUCKED!” New tears streamed down her face; her eyes were red and swollen from crying. She snapped more photos even as she screamed expletives at me. But my attention was fixed on my ass, on the amazing feelings Eric’s huge tool produced as he began to move in and out. Precum oozed from my dick, purplish and swollen more than I had ever seen it. I looked up at Eric’s face. It was contorted with lust. “Do you like my ass, sir?” I asked. “I hope my ass pleases you, sir.” He smiled down at me. “You’re a fast learner, boy. Good to see that I don’t have to teach you good manners.” He started to pick up the pace, now that my ass muscles were relaxing. I heard the soft, squishy sound a cock makes when it plunges in and out of a tight, wet hole – a cunt or an ass. The beautiful sound made by Eric’s cock and my ass. The room filled with the aroma of my back passage. Our eyes met and he leaned forward to kiss me. Our tongues met and his fucked my willing mouth. I felt the weight of his round beer gut atop me. My top likes my lithe body, I thought. I ran my hands up his hairy biceps and over his shoulders. When he broke our kiss, my hands explored his chest. I tugged on his harness and kneaded his abdomen with my slender fingers. “You are so sweet, sir,” I cooed. My wife looked ready to puke. I didn’t care. *** The surge of a rising orgasm built within my cock. It seemed to well up from some inner recess and take control of my body. “I’m going to cum, sir! I can’t help it. Please, sir, may I come?” Before Eric could answer, mancream spurted from my dick slit in little jets, flying across my chest and even reaching my beard. The volume of jism amazed me – I hadn’t produced anything like it since I was in my twenties. “I didn’t tell you something, hubby,” she snarled. “Eric is HIV positive. He’s going to infect you, you miserable bastard. How do you like that?” “I don’t care,” I gasped. “I only care about his pleasure.” By this time, my wife had had enough. I felt sorry for her at that moment, even as she let her homophobia erupt. She went into the bathroom and slammed the door hard. “Damn loud-mouthed bitch,” Eric said with a shrug. You’ll take orders from me now, not her.” “Yes, sir,” I said, meekly. He pulled out of me, leaving a void and momentary disappointment. “Turn over on your knees, faggot.” When he used that word, it didn’t bother me. In fact, it sent an erotic charge through me, as my true sexual identity was now no longer a secret. My legs felt like jelly, but I did as I was told. On all fours I faced the bathroom door. Eric moved behind me, pressed his cock against my slick, open butthole, and rammed his meat into me in one fluid motion. He went so deep so quickly that for a moment I felt that the tip would come out my throat. “OHHH, yes!!! Thank you, sir,” I gasped. “You made a mistake before, boy. You came without permission.” “I’m sorry, sir. It felt so good I couldn’t control myself.” “That’s no excuse,” he said, as he resumed his in-and-out action. My cock somehow stiffened again. “If you want to be my bottom, you better learn to follow orders. I’ll have to punish you.” With that he began to spank me, and plenty hard. “Thank you, sir,” I cried after each blow. The room echoed with the echoes of his slaps on my ass cheeks. My wife emerged from the bathroom fully clothed. Our eyes met, and I saw again on her face utter contempt and profound revulsion. And it was an incredible turn-on! Her face reddened as Eric spanked me and fucked me and I called out my gratitude and obvious ecstasy. “Oh, thank you, sir! I need a man like you to teach me how to be a good bottom.” Then, with a deliberate lisp in my voice, I added, “You’re so strong, so manly.” And that sent my wife off the deep end. “WE’RE FINISHED, GIRLIE-MAN!” she shrieked. “I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR NEW LOVER. NO WOMAN WOULD EVER WANT TO TOUCH YOU AFTER SHE SAW THIS. IT’S SICK, IT’S REVOLTING.” With that, she opened the door into the hall and stormed out, the door slamming loudly behind her. *** Eric leaned forward and pulled two pillows under my dick. With his massive torso on my back, my arms collapsed. I turned my head to the side. He began to kiss me again over my shoulder, and I twisted to meet his tongue. His arms went under me and his thrusts quickened. He broke our kiss and gasped, “Here it comes, boy. Take my poz load! Take it like a man!” “Yes, sir. I want it, sir. I want your toxic load in my ass! Seed me!” There was one final moment of hesitation, followed by the deepest lunge yet. “AH! AH! AHHHH!” Eric roared in my ear, as hard, rapid thrusts followed, as it heavy balls slapped against my ass cheeks. I was thrilled – I had fulfilled my deepest craving, to please my manlover. And suddenly that triggered my second orgasm, very different from the first but just as pleasurable. Eric lay atop me, his enormous bulk pinning me. We continued to kiss over my shoulder, softer, more tenderly. My life had been changed forever, as we both knew. My straight life was over. From this point forward I would live my true identity, as a man who loved men.

I must’ve dozed off because the next thing I remember is Jake telling me to get on my knees. The room was now brightly lit. I realized the camera was on and I would be clearly seen. He put my ex-wife’s picture in front of me. “Now B---’s going to watch me fuck her sissy-boi husband.” He shoved some lube into my ass, hard. It hurt, and I gave an involuntary cry of pain. I felt him scratch me up inside. “I’m sorry, sir,” I said quickly. “Not good enough, bitch.” He smacked my ass. “Thank you, sir.” More smacks followed. I felt my ass grow warm. Looking at the photo, I sensed my ex watching me, and I felt my face redden, just like my ass. I loved being humiliated by a real man in front of her. The spanking stopped. The tip of Jake’s cock brushed my butt hole, then I felt him press into me. My ass opened to receive him. The fullness was wonderful, the warmth intense. I let out a girlish whimper of pure pleasure. “Oh, yes, you like that, don’t you? Of course you do. That’s ‘cause you’re a cunt, right? This is what you were meant for – to be seeded by a real man. Tell your wife what you want, cunt.” I looked at the photo. “I want your seed, sir,” I murmured, embarrassed. A sharp smack. “Louder, cunt. I want her to hear you.” “SEED ME, SIR. MAKE ME YOUR BITCH. CUM INSIDE ME,” I shouted. “That’s better, faggot.” Jake was now in me to the hilt, moving in and out, his hands gripping my hips. “I bet B---'s in bed with her stud boyfriend right now, fucking him and enjoying what a real man can do. Yes, you and she have a lot in common, both horny little cunts.” He had that right! His thrusts stopped, but the tip of his cock stayed inside me. “Time for you to do the work, faggot.” I began to rock back and forth on my knees, controlling the pace. He puffed away on his cigar, ordering me to go faster, then slower. At one point, I moved from my knees into a squatting position and bounced up and down on his cock. It was exhausting and I lost all sense of time. Then he stopped and said, “On your back, bitch.” I lay on my back on the dirty, cum-stained mattress. I pulled up my legs and spread my ass cheeks. Jake smacked my butt hard. “Did I tell you to do that, cunt?” Jake barked. “I’m sorry, sir.” He straddled my chest again and shoved his cock into my mouth. His dick smelled and tasted like my ass. I gagged with nearly every thrust; I felt a tear roll down the side of my face. I hated myself for crying but I couldn't help it. My ex used to cry often, too; now it just seemed part of being feminine. Jake stopped and ordered me to spread my legs. I obeyed. He fingered my boi pussy, again scratching me, and then rimmed me with his tongue. I moaned. “Oh, yeah,” he grunted. “You like that, don’t you, cunt?” I moaned again, louder. “Beg for it,” he ordered. “Please, sir. I need your cock inside me. Please. I need you so much.” He stopped licking, got on his knees, and teased me with the tip of his dick. I begged him again. He rammed his thick, veiny dick in to the hilt in one swift thrust that made me gasp. I have never felt so full. Now he was really fucking me, harder and harder. I heard high-pitched sounds – “Ah! Mmmm! Oh!” – drawn from my throat. It was embarrassing to sound like a girl. I covered my mouth with my hand but Jake pushed it aside. "I like to hear a bitch when she moans," he muttered. As he thrust inside me, fast and deep, his balls slapped loudly against my ass. Whack! Whack! Whack! I opened my eyes and saw my reflection in his dark glasses. I thought, My goodness. I am such a total slut. He can make me do anything. My hands gripped his thick forearms; I noticed my pretty watch and realized that my manhood was totally gone. He had left me with nothing but my inner sissy self, female in every way but anatomically. Jake tossed aside his cigar, then blew a final puff of cigar smoke in my face. I loved it – it was such an expression of male power. At that moment I knew that if he wanted B---, she could never resist his advances. I thought to myself, This is what every woman really wants. I was only pretending to be a man. This is what a faggot needs. He was close now. “I’m going to mark you now, cunt. You’re going to take my positive seed.” I heard the words, somewhere in the back of my mind, but they didn't really register. Besides, I was too far into the moment to stop. “Yes, sir! Please, sir!” I felt his body tense, then a final series of deep spasms and he exhaled loudly. His mouth found mine and his tongue invaded me, too. It was an intense fuck-kiss, my favorite moment when my man expresses his pleasure. It seemed to last forever. *** Jake fell asleep on top of me, as I gently stroked his back. I felt him soften and eventually slip out of my boi cunt. Some of his cum dribbled down my crack, but I held most of it inside me. I dozed off. The next thing I knew, Jake gruffly ordered me to turn on my belly. As I did so, I saw that he had placed my ex-wife’s photo only a foot from my face. “You like having B--- watch you, don’t you, sissy?” “Yes, sir! Yes I do! I want her to see me getting fucked by a real man.” He shoved his cock into me. I was so loose it took just one good thrust., and it didn't hurt anymore. “Tell her what you are, boy,” Jake ordered. “I’m a faggot, B---. Not a real man. I need to be fucked. Look at me, honey. I was meant to serve real men, like this.” Jake lay on top of me, pounding my ass. He yanked my face around to kiss me, our tongues swirling. When he stopped I faced the photo of my ex again. It felt like she was staring through me. I felt my own dick harden and throb. “Sir,” I murmured, “I’m gonna cum soon.” “Not yet,” he commanded. He paused. He grabbed the picture and laid it on the bed next to me. “Turn on your side,” he said. My hard dick was now directly over the photo. Jake reached around and began to pump my cock. I’ve never been so hard in my life. “I bet she hates fags because of you, boy. Now get even. Shoot your load onto her pretty face.” I couldn’t resist. My jism spurted out, all over the photo, all over B---'s pretty face, her cold stare. I turned to Jake and softly said, “Thank you, sir.” *** As I emerged from a dreamless sleep, I felt a sharp tug on the leash. Jake was standing over me. “Get up, cunt,” he ordered. He led me down the hall back to where he had parked his motorcycle. I heard the click-click of my black booties on the concrete floor. It sounded sexy. A faint light was visible through the high windows -- dawn was coming. How would this end? Jake led me over to his bike. I thought he was going to tell me to sit behind him and ride through the streets of San Francisco in nothing more than my cami and thong. I was humiliated but also turned on by the thought of people walking their dogs and seeing me with my collar and leash. Instead he ordered me to lean over the bike and spread my legs. I realized Jake planned to fuck me again. I felt a tingle of anticipation and started to get hard. In front of me was a full-length mirror. Jake lit a cigar. His magnificent dick, which had given me so much pleasure, stood out rock hard. “I like a piece of ass in the morning for the road,” he grunted as he blew a cloud of smoke at me. “Then I’ll call you a ride.” He got behind me on his knees, spread my ass cheeks, and proceeded to lick my boi cunt. I was in heaven and I moaned. Then he stood behind me and pressed my back so my belly rested on the bike seat. I felt his man meat against my asshole. It slid in easily; I was loose from all the fucking. Jake thrust in and out, moving for his pleasure. I was nothing more than a cum dump for my top, and I loved the sense of being used. My own dick wiggled back and forth beneath me. It went on for a long time, the room getting lighter, my legs tiring, as I gasped with each deep stroke. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a man and his little, effeminate faggot – me – each of us in his proper place. Jack increased the pace. I knew he was close. Then, with a loud grunt, he erupted inside me, bestowing on me the gift of his seed. His positive seed. It truly was gift, and it established his dominance over me forever. He pulled out, turned me around, and gave me a deep kiss. It was incredibly hot and intense. “Now for your ride home, cunt.” He pulled out his cellphone from the pouch behind the seat. “JM gave me your ex-wife’s phone number. Should I call him or her?” “Sir, please, not her. Don't call her,” I pleaded. But inside, secretly, I hoped he would…. BRIEF EPILOGUE About six weeks later I got really, really sick. I tested positive. My boyfriend took care of me. He told me he loved me and proposed. It was very sweet and I said yes. But every now and then, Jake calls and orders me to meet him at the warehouse. And I do.

My wonderful boyfriend JM surprised me today. He knows I’ve been thinking constantly about my encounter with Jake. I’ve been distant and distracted all week. We’ve discussed my complicated reaction and whether I would want to do it again. Well, JM managed to get Jake’s phone number and email, and offered to arrange another session whenever I’m ready. I don’t know about this. Yes, it was the most amazing sexual and emotional experience I’ve ever had. Would it lose something by repetition? Can you ever recapture the heat? Maybe I should just savor the experience and relive parts of it in my mind. Something else: now that I know we can find Jake, do I want to know whether he’s HIV positive? That was my fear, but also part of the turn-on. I plunged into the unknown, embracing the risk as the price Jake demanded. I wanted so desperately for him to breed me, to give me his seed. My man lust overwhelmed any sense of caution. At first I thought that if learned Jake was poz, I couldn’t hook up with him again. Just too far over the edge for the prudent side of me. Now, though, I'm getting aroused at the thought of taking it to that next level, holding nothing back. If I learn he’s negative, I think a big part of the excitement would be gone. It’s NOT KNOWING that made it so hot. I felt fear but it only aroused me more. When I weakened too late and uttered the safe word, I really wanted him NOT to stop, even though I was genuinely terrified at that point. *** So my next tryst with Jake has been arranged. Without telling me, JM sent Jake a photo of me in my sissy boi outfit – clingy black camisole top, black thong, pride jewelry with my girlie wrist watch, and high-heeled black women’s booties. Jake wrote back that I’m not man enough to wear leather. He ordered me to write him a note accepting his conditions for a rendezvous. I emailed him the following last night: “Dear Sir: 1. This Saturday JM will drop me at the warehouse entrance at [location] and leave me there. 2. I will not move from that location until you collect me, no matter how long or what the weather. 3. When you arrive, you will collar me and I will obey your commands 4. There will be no safe word. 5. There will be no condoms. 6. You will not abuse me physically in a way that leaves a mark or scar. Your devoted and willing fuck toy, Andy” *** Tonight's the night for my hook-up with Jake. I've almost chickened out about four times -- which is as many times as I've jerked off today thinking about it, LOL. JM has told me to stop playing with myself. Jake sent more instructions. First, I am to shave my body smooth, because only real men have body hair, not sissy faggots like me. I've done this, and it feels cool. Second, I am to bring a photograph of my ex-wife with me. JM told Jake I was married until a couple of months ago. I'm not sure why Jake wants the photograph, but I suspect it's to humiliate me. Jake plans to videotape our session, with a copy for JM. I really hope it doesn't end up on the internet. It could ruin my career. This is a crazy thing to do. I am a middle-aged male, not some kid who lives recklessly. Maybe I just never got this out of my system. But the whole thing is such a turn-on I can't back out. *** And so it came to pass that I found myself standing outside the warehouse as instructed Saturday night at 11:00, wearing my black camisole, thong, and high-heeled booties, sporting my pride jewelry and pretty woman’s wristwatch, and holding the framed picture of my ex-wife. My body was smooth; my beard and hair cropped very short. The street was empty. It was a bit chilly, so I was shivering. I hoped desperately Jake would show soon. After about ten minutes, a car with tinted windows passed me. I had a glimmer of hope. It slowed down and then turned around and came back. The driver, a middle-aged white guy with a beard, lowered the window. “How much?” “Excuse me?” I said. “How much do you want to give me a blow job? And maybe to let me fuck you?” It suddenly hit me that he thought I was a male prostitute. After all, who else would be out there, dressed as I was? I smiled and told him I already had a date for the evening. “You’re cute,” He said. “I’ll pay you double what he’s giving you. Let’s make it $500.” I said no thanks and he drove off. I figured if Jake didn’t show, I might have to take some guy up on an offer of paid sex, just to get out of the cold. The idea gave me an even bigger hard-on, which poked out of my tiny panties. I checked my watch. I had been there for 45 minutes. Then I heard a loud motorcycle roar. The rider was dressed in leather. It was Jake. He looked me over from head to toe and beckoned me to follow him. He lifted a garage door, wheeled the bike inside the darkness, and I entered behind him…. *** Jake flipped on a light. He stood there inspecting me. “Is that the photo of your ex?” he asked. I nodded. “Yes, sir.” My voice sounded unusually high and effeminate. He signaled me to hand it to him, so I did. “Sexy woman,” he said admiringly. “She deserves a real man to fuck her. Heard she’s found one.” I winced. JM had told him more than I thought. “Hmmm. I see you and she have the same taste in wristwatches. Pretty. Very girlie. Suits you both. Two cunts needing to be dominated by strong men.” I kept my eyes down, but I felt my ears turn red at his crude words about her and me, which I knew were true. “Turn around.” I obeyed at once. I felt a leather collar slide around my neck, and heard a click. I was now on a leash, like a dog. My cock got even harder. Jake groped my cock, then fingered my butt, pushing my thong aside. Then he jerked my leash so I was facing him, and kissed me hard. I opened my mouth and his tongue thrust in. I tasted the alcohol on his breath, and the tobacco from his cigar. My hands ran up his arms and across his leather harness. Jake pulled away. “Open the door and go down the hall to the first door. We go in there.” He held the leash in one hand and the photo in the other. I walked, putting one foot in front of the other so my hips would wiggle like a woman’s. I felt strange – like a female in a man’s body. I wanted him to desire me as a straight man desires a woman. We went into the room, which was lit by a couple of bare light bulbs. A bare, stained mattress on the floor, a leather easy chair, and a small table. Mirrors lined the walls. Two video cameras – my nightmare. Jake flipped on the one pointing at the chair. He set the photo of my ex-wife on the table, in plain sight. Jake sat down and opened his leather shorts. His amazing cock popped out, semi-hard. He lit a cigar and studied me. Then he put on mirrored sunglasses, and gestured at the photo. “I think your wife should see her ex-hubby as a sissy fag, don’t you? On your knees, pussy boi. My cock needs attention. Let her see how well you suck dick.” I felt humiliated but totally turned on – I was living one of my most powerful fantasies, having my ex watch me pleasure an alpha male. I got on my knees and began to worship Jake’s cock like I’ve never served man before. I looked up into his sunglasses and saw my reflection – a faggot fulfilling his true calling.... *** As I sucked Jake’s cock, I was rewarded with the first drops of his pre-cum. He continued to say nasty, sexy things about me, all being recorded on the camera. He asked me my ex-wife’s name and I told him. He turned to the photo and spoke to it as though she were in the room, “Well, B---, don’t you think your husband is a natural cocksucker? Did you teach him how to do this? Maybe I’ll make a date with you to see whether you’re as good at it as he is.” Then he yanked the leash and ordered me to stop. He stared at me and I dropped my eyes, the way an obedient sissy does. “Get on your back, faggot.” He pointed to the mattress. As I lay down, he turned on the other camera. Then he straddled my chest, shoved a pillow under my head, and pointed the tip of his dick at my mouth. I started to reach up to stroke him and guide his cockhead toward my lips, but he ordered me to put my hands down. “Time for me to fuck my first hole of the night. Open wide.” He thrust in hard and I gagged immediately. He didn’t stop. I felt I was choking, and it was hard to breathe. I resisted the urge to try to push him off, but my hands still groped at his leather leggings. He paused for a moment and told me to put my hands behind my head. He pinned my wrists to the bed with his powerful grip. I was trapped, helpless. He resumed hard thrusts, hitting the back of my throat, as I willed myself not to gag. I heard his voice but I can’t remember anything he said. I sensed he was getting close, if I could only endure a little longer. A final inward thrust and Jake let out a loud moan-grunt. I felt the first spurts of his jism in my throat. I swallowed and swallowed again. He pulled out and shot the rest of his load all over me face. “Nice job, faggot,” Jake grunted. "I’d say you took it like a man, but you’re not a man. You’re just a fag, with a mouth pussy for real men to use.” He wiped cum from my face with his fingers and stuck them in my mouth for me to lick clean. I loved the taste and felt a thrill that I had let this amazing hunk of a man use me. “I bet your ex-wife really enjoyed seeing you do that.” Then he kissed me, lay down beside me, and dozed off. I turned toward him, pressed up against his strong, manly body, and waited. [To be continued]

I had the most intense sexual experience of my life last weekend. It was also the most frightening. I’m still trying to process me feelings about what happened. After many conversations with my boyfriend JM about the leather scene, we agreed to go together to a leather bar here in the Bay area. It’s well known as a place where men go to hook up on site, in various backrooms and the basement. Lots of sex – reputedly bareback sex. JM and I have an agreement that we would only engage in unprotected sex with each other. But I haven’t been able to overcome my fascination with letting a top I just met take me raw. We decided together that I should explore my desires more fully. Well, to cut to the chase, I found myself in a basement room with nothing but a cum-stained mattress, a bare lightbulb, and lots of mirrors, accompanied by JM and a muscular, alpha male with a goatee and close-cropped gray hair who said his name was Jake. I was wearing my harness, my black work boots, and my pride jewelry (but not my girlie wristwatch -- that's just for when I'm making love with JM). Jake wore studded leather arm bands and cuffs, a cock ring, and chaps. He had tatoos all over his arms and torso. We had agreed on a safe word, “heterosexual,” but I was determined not to use it. By prior understanding, JM left as things heated up between Jake and me, but was going to return to check on me. A lot of what happened in that room is now a blur. It was just too overwhelming to remember it. Jake slapped my ass hard, and I thanked him and called him sir. He smoked a cigar and when he kissed me he tasted of tobacco and stale beer. God, it was so hot! I've never been so submissive with anyone. He forced his cock deep in my throat until I gagged and didn’t let go of my head. I had trouble breathing. But Jake was only focused on his own pleasure. Then we were on the mattress. I was face down on my belly, and he mounted me. He was fully inside of me. Uncovered. A man I had just met. I was terrified, but I didn’t want him to stop. I was thrilled and turned on to be used the way Jake was taking me. The safe word was on the tip of my tongue but I couldn’t utter it, couldn’t stop him. “You need to be seeded, faggot,” he grunted in my ear. “That’s what pussy boys like you live for.” I knew he was right. I felt powerless. But then I had an attack of caution. As his thrusts grew faster and his heavy balls slapped against my ass, I muttered “heterosexual.” I said it again, louder and more forcefully. But he didn’t hesitate or pull out. He just growled in my ear, “Too late for that, cunt.” Then he jerked my head around to thrust his tongue in my mouth and I felt him tense up and explode inside me. He gripped my shoulders and kept thrusting until he had fully emptied himself in me. Then he stood up and walked out. I lay there for a long time, breathing hard. I felt his cum oozing from my ass. Tears stung my eyes and I started to sob. Then I looked up and saw JM staring down at me. He had a smirk on his face and his large cock stood erect. “My turn, slut,” he said coldly. And he had his way with me. At some point when he was fucking me, I had an amazing orgasm. When we left together, JM wrapped his arm around my shoulder and held me close. I was trembling and told him how scared I was. He reassured me that I would be fine but added that I should get myself tested regularly. I can’t stop thinking about what happened. I hope I have the power to resist the impulse to go back to the bar. I am scared of my feelings, scared of putting myself at risk. But my desire hasn’t been satisfied – If anything it’s more acute than before. I don’t know what I’ll do. (To be continued....)

[This is my adaptation of a hot story I read here] Seduced into Poz I decided to write a story for my magazine about bug chasing – gay men who deliberately choose to get infected with HIV. Even though I thought of myself as a straight male and I was married to a beautiful woman, I found this subject fascinating. For some reason, I decided not to tell my wife about the project. When she went out of town on business, I started to interview gay men online to learn about why they wanted to get pozzed. I have to admit I found myself getting aroused by their stories, and I even watched porn clips and films about it. Then I connected online with a guy who said he pozzed other men for money – a “poztitute”. I was intrigued and asked him if we could meet so he could tell me his story. The next night I went to the gay bar he recommended and waited for him. It was my first time in one, and I was nervous. In walked the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He was incredibly handsome. His tight jeans and t-shirt showed off his rippling muscles. I was surprised when he walked right up to me and said, “You must be Andy. I’m Eric.” He shook my hand and held it for what seemed like a long time. We started to talk. Eric told me about his sex work and why he enjoyed it – liberating men from their fears and letting them enjoy man sex in all its fullness. He went on to share erotic tales of his experiences that set my heart pounding and caused me to get an erection. I don’t know why I was so turned on. I realized he was coming on to me, and I found that exciting. As Eric continued, his stories took on a somewhat dark hue, as he stated he could infect anyone, anytime through a combination of technique and what he called his “massive viral load”. As he talked, he drummed his fingertips on the bar. I immediately noted that he had filed them down to sharp points. He told me they “helped prime a bottom’s plumbing,” which meant nothing to me at the time. Then he rested his hand on mine and left it there, stroking mine gently, sexually. No man had ever done that before and I felt a strange excitement. He told me he was pozzing a guy the next night at his apartment, and he invited me to watch, saying he was sure I would learn a great deal for my article. He told me the guy would be willing and able to provide information on the whole experience. My cock was rock hard at the thought of watching Eric have sex, and my sense of caution went out the window. It probably didn’t hurt that Eric’s hand brushed my crotch and that he realized he had turned me on. When he stood up to leave, he was jostled by a guy climbing onto his bar stool so his crotch chanced to press against my thigh. I realized he was hard. I was strangely excited to know that he desired me, too. The next evening, at 8:00 P.M., heart pounding, I found myself ringing his doorbell. Eric answered the door buck naked. I was totally caught off guard by this and had a hard time regaining my composure. I was absolutely overwhelmed by his physical presence, his manly aroma. Although I struggled to keep my eyes off his cock, it was a losing battle. He had a thick bush, low hanging, veiny balls, a long, thick cock that never hung quite down but arched out from his body. Man, I thought, this is unfucking real. My cock started to throb in my jeans. Explaining he had just gotten out of the shower, he told me to make myself comfortable while he completed preparing for the “fuck-fest,” to use his words. He disappeared back into his bedroom. I sat down in front of the TV, which was showing a gay porn film in which a series of incredibly muscular guys had bareback sex and boasted about giving their bottoms their charged loads. I was surprised by how erotic I found this. Within a few minutes Eric came out in a short robe and sat next to me to watch the video. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his cock push out of his robe as it grew to 10 thick inches. I spent the next half hour with one eye on the TV and the other on Eric’s dick. What had I gotten myself into? I thought about making an excuse to leave but every time I started to speak I couldn’t. My mouth was too dry. Eric and I had a couple of drinks while we waited. Finally, he said that it looked like his friend wasn’t going to show. He said I could do a better story if I role-played a bug chaser. I said OK. He told me to undress, which I did. He saw my erection and smirked. “You’re a good actor, Andy.” I turned red but didn’t say anything. “I like my chaser to feel feminine, because he is going to welcome my seed into his cunt,” Eric said. He handed me a pretty women’s wristwatch and slipped a very feminine diamond engagement ring on my finger. It glistened in the light. I felt a chill go up my spine. Next Eric fastened a black leather dog collar around my neck. “And this symbolizes the chaser’s acceptance of his submission to my will.” I felt myself trembling. Finally, he gave me a studded black cock ring to wrap around by swollen dick and balls. I’m not that big – maybe 5 inches – but I felt huge. “Andy, you really need to let yourself feel what the chaser feels.” He told me to stand close to him; I obeyed. He placed his hands on my waist. I felt our cocks rub together and gasped at the sensation. I placed my hands on his powerful arms and noticed how dainty and feminine they looked with the watch and ring. Eric leaned forward and kissed me on my mouth. It was the first time I had kissed another man. I was surprised how natural it felt. He gazed into my eyes and smiled. “Now suck my cock,” he ordered, quietly but firmly. I started to say I was straight, but he put his hand on the back of my head. I can't say he forced my head down because I offered no resistance. A few seconds later I was sucking and licking his cock. I couldn't seem to stop myself. The smell, taste, texture and intimacy of the experience was wild beyond anything I had before experienced. “Put your mind in the chaser’s space,” Eric said. “You’re about to take my seed, my pozz juice. You will forever be joined to me. Look at the ring. Just like your wife felt when you gave her a ring like this. She knew yours would be the only cock she would let inside her. My chasers are bound to me the same way.” I looked at the ring out of the corner of my eye and felt the thrill of knowing Eric and I could be forever tied if I went through with it. I heard Eric moan as I pleasured him with my lips and my tongue and even my throat. After a few minutes he told me we were going in the bedroom. I just let him lead me in there, holding hands like two gay lovers. I lay naked, on my back, on his bed. Facing my crotch, he straddled my face. I eagerly continued my work on his magnificent cock and balls, and even found myself sliding my tongue in his ass crack. He was clearly enjoying the attention: drops of pre-cum oozed out of his cock head. I loved the taste of his pre-cum -- slick, salty, and sweet at the same time. He started touching me all over and then, leaning forward, began loading my asshole with lube, using hard, sharp, sometimes painful thrusts. I could feel myself being opened up. I knew what Eric intended. He said the best way for me to understand what a chaser felt was to let him slip his cock inside me. I resisted, but each time I said “No” it was with less conviction, and he knew it. His persistence and my rising lust won out. When he assured me he’d pull out if I asked him to, I acquiesced. I still declared I wasn’t going to let him shoot his load in me. He just kind of smiled as he positioned me on my hands and knees. He pushed some more lube inside my hole, and, generously lubing his cock, coaxed his way inside. It hurt like hell at first, a sharp burning and stinging sensation. But after a few minutes of superficial penetration, my ass opened up, and I guess my ass juices began flowing. Pain morphed into pleasure, and pleasure morphed into ecstasy as somewhere in there he began to hit my prostate. I found myself begging for more. The experience was like nothing I had ever experienced: I now understood why so many gay men love anal sex. Eric mostly kept up a nice slow pace while he slid his rod in and out of my hole, alternately teasing my asslips and torturing my prostate when he slid all the way in. He whispered in my ear, telling me how cute I was, how I was natural bottom, how wonderful my “boi-cunt” felt. I loved his words – they made me feel so desired. I tried to listen for any moans or changes in his breathing that would signal an approaching orgasm, but I didn’t hear (or maybe didn’t want to hear) any tell-tale signs. His hands were all over me, a few times reaching around to pinch my tits really hard when he sped-up his pounding, but then letting up as he slowed down. I didn't really want him to stop but was prepared to tell him “no mas” at the first sign he was going to cum in me. Encased by the leather ring, my balls and cock swelled deliciously. While all this was happening, my mind was racing. I felt that I was experiencing all the terror, emotions, and pleasure that someone taking his first positive load could conceivably experience. I tried to make mental notes of everything, but I must admit my brain was quite befuddled by the overwhelming impact of the turn of events, and, of course, Eric's cock sliding in and out of me. After a really long time (my pretty, feminine watch said forty-five minutes), Eric paused his thrusts and said he had some things to tell me. “I can stay hard and fuck for an hour or more. And I can cum and not make a sound.” Then he told me something I was really not ready to hear. “I already came twice inside you, Andy.” Before I could say anything or pull away, he grunted, “Here cums the third load!” Eric's strong hands moved to my shoulders and he pushed me face down into the mattress. His full weight was on top of me, pinning me to the bed. Then he rammed me hard a couple of times and moaned very loud. I felt his cock spasm and then felt the hot liquid fly into me. I guessed that having my nipples pinched had masked the first two loads. However, there was no mistaking what he had done this time. He pulled my face to the side and kissed me deeply. I opened my mouth and did not resist his tongue. Then I was overwhelmed with terror. How could he do this to me? Eric’s still-hard cock plugged my ass, keeping his cum in me. I asked him why he had pozzed me. He told me he knew I really wanted it, that no straight male would let himself be talked into sucking cock and then getting fucked. He told me he had cut me up inside with his fingernails, and there was no doubt his bugs were already in my blood. He told me he liked me and said I could stay the night so he could fuck me some more. I locked myself in the bathroom for a long time. I cried as I tried to force his cum out of me somehow, but very little dripped out, and what did was mixed with my blood. Then I sat for a while, processing what had happened. I looked again at the engagement ring and the pretty watch and realized I had never experienced anything close to what Eric and I had done. Finally, I looked in the mirror, and said aloud, “I’m a gay man. I’m a faggot. And now I can enjoy sex the way I was meant to.” When I came out of the bathroom, I saw that Eric had fallen asleep. I slipped into bed with him. He felt me and rolled me onto my back. Then he kissed me passionately and I eagerly responded. I felt his cock harden again. I pulled him on top of me and murmured, “I need you inside me.” He just smiled. I pulled my legs up and apart, and invited him to penetrate me as my wife had so often invited me. As he fucked me, I saw the light reflect off the diamond ring again and realized Eric and I would always be linked by the gift he had given me. My body was soon wracked by an orgasm that started in my toes and went on and on. Eric said I had just had my first “sissygasm”, which proved I was a true faggot. Soon he erupted inside me yet again. He would fuck me twice more during the night, cumming inside me each time. Early the next morning, we agreed we would march together in the upcoming gay pride parade. “Promise me you’ll wear the watch and ring in the parade while we hold hands,” He said. I kissed him passionately and said, “Of course!” I dressed and went home. Later I saw that my underwear was stained with his cum and my blood. When my wife got back to town, I told her that I was gay. What I subsequently learned was the fuck flu hit me about a month and a half after my night with Eric. My subsequent HIV blood test was positive. I never wrote the article, but soon became an AIDS activist. From time to time, Eric and I get together to make love, and I always wear the special jewelry he gave me.