“Have you ever tried Master and Slave?”, he asked me on Whatsapp.
I was caught off guard. I had felt he liked to be dominated in bed before, but I didn’t know he was into being a slave. Plus, the only thing close to master that I have mastered has ended with bation. “No, no. This is too kinky, even for me”, I thought.
Shift scene to 5 days later.
I’m tying his feet with ropes after I pushed him face down on the bed.
With the same long rope I had used to tie his feet, I whipped his back. He let out a moan. It felt good. Between whips, I would kiss the back of his neck. Well, more like biting. Pulled him by the hair so I can see his lips and kiss him hard, then pushed his head back on the mattress. Though the look on his face was saying “fuck, what did I get myself into?”, I can tell he liked it rough.
I looked at his legs and they were always moving and I was starting to get pissed. I bit his legs, then whipped them really rough and ordered him to “stop fucking moving”. He tried to remain calm, but couldn’t. I was really getting pissed (As you can see, I take my role as Master very seriously). I got another pair of ropes and tied his hands together.
I took his shorts down and started kissing his cheeks, biting them, whipping them. It hurt. I could tell by the marks. Whipped his back a little more and with every whip, his screams kept getting louder so I order him to stop screaming or I’ll whip him harder. I’m guessing he wanted it harder cause next thing you know, the slashes were getting louder. At this point, his entire backside was marked with long red lines.
I got out of bed, walked over to the other side where his face was down lookin at the floor, pulled his head by the hair and put my dick in his mouth. He was using his teeth so I slapped him and told him to do a better job. “Stop biting”. He tried but then he started gagging on it. “No gagging!”. Whenever he would fuck up, he would get a slap and a whip on the back.
Hopped back to bed and jumped on him.
I slapped his ass repeatedly and spit on it. As the spit circled his asshole, I could feel my inhibitions circling the drain.
Put a rope between his ass cheeks and closed them with one hand. With the other, I pulled the rope slowly back out. Ass-teasing him.
“Got a condom?”, I asked. “Uhhumm”, he grunted. Lubed up his ass and opened the drawer and put the condom on. Fingering him wasn’t an option. If rough is what he wants, rough is what he’ll get. Patted his asshole with my dick and shoved it. His screams had never been this loud. As I was on top fucking him, I would slap his face, pull his hair, and whip his back.
It’s as if he was getting raped. Maybe that’s what he liked about it.
As I pulled my dick out, I saw shit on the tip of the condom (that’s very normal in gay sex so calm down). Even though it was S&M and it was supposed to be “dirty” I felt like I had to change the condom. I removed it and threw it on the floor. Grabbed the box of condoms so I put on a new one and…shit…I had used the last one. Well, obviously I wasn’t doing no bareback so I looked around for what I can use.
The lube bottle.
Not too big. Not too small. Just right. I grabbed the condom I had thrown, put it on the tip of the bottle and started teasing his asshole. He never looked behind him to see what I was trying to put in his ass. I don’t think he cared. Tried pushing it in. After some tries, and a lot of moans, it went in. I was surprised he didn’t mind it. I mean, is there a point in a session like this when you’re like “Okay, stop, I’m NOT gonna do that”? When do you get out of character?
I got out of bed again and shoved my dick in his mouth. No teeth. No gagging. He had learned his lesson. Hmm, maybe the whips were working. I got back to bed, made him lay on his back so I can see his face. His lips were quivering. His eyes half closed. It wasn’t the “yeah, I look sexy don’t I?” look. It was the “what have I done to deserve this?” look. Sat on his face, put my balls in his mouth as I stroked my dick. I was about to come. So I did. In his mouth and on his lips. He swallowed it all. I caressed his cheek as a sign of “good boy. You did good”.
I pulled his legs up and spit on his dick. Stroked it while I slapped his thighs. Then he came. On his stomach… and on his face. I put his legs back down, reached over to his face and kissed him on the lips.
As I walk to my car, I recall my reaction to him when he proposed the Master/Slave idea.
“That’s too much”, I had replied.
Looking back at all the marks I left on his back, I smile and think: “Really? Too much?”
What changed? Why did I think I couldn’t do it? That I couldn’t spit on someone and degrade someone? And what does that say about me now that I realized I not only can…but that I enjoy it? I guess even after 25 years, you’re still getting to know yourself.
It wasn’t the first time I walk out of his apartment after having sex. But this time, I felt…different. I felt in control. In work, in love, in many areas… I’m powerless. It felt good to be bad. To degrade someone. To take out all the anger and frustration on someone. For an hour, I was in charge. A master of something.
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