I entered the gay chatroom, posting that I was looking for someone that was dominant and into bondage. After a few fruitless hours, and some people that didn’t quite grasp the concept of intelligent conversation, I was messaged by someone who intrigued me. His name was Ross, he was 40, and he’d had bondage experience. I was 17, working in a better job than most who never went to college, and living on my own, me being gay not having sat well with my family. I loved older men, and I was intrigued.
We talked for a while, discussing interests and bondage, and I found out he was fairly nearby, me living in Albany, NY, and him living in southern Vermont. It was a drive of about an hour and a half. I didn’t have any pictures of myself, but I talked to him on the microphone for a while.
After a few months of this, he decided we should meet. He recommended meeting in the middle and getting food so neither of us had to drive too much, and it’d be a neutral place in case I got nervous.
I pulled into the diner, seeing his old Chevy pickup in the lot and walked in. He said he’d have a red hat on so I could find him. I scanned the restaurant and saw him and sat down. We introduced ourselves and he smiled at the look of me. He called me cute when I described myself, and I guess I’d satisfied his mental picture. He was pretty much exactly how he described himself, a little taller than me, short dark hair, fit, but showing some of the paunch that comes with age.
We ate and talked for a while, the conversation turning to sex and bondage. He said that I seemed pretty calm and that he liked how I didn’t shy away from the more hardcore topics. At one point he asked me to stand up and spin around so he could look at my body. I complied quickly, the thought of following orders, especially in public making my dick start to stand.
I asked him if we could go back to his place. He seemed taken aback by the question at first, but then readily agreed. We left, and I drove behind him the whole way back. The diner was about a half hour away from his apartment, all the way I was both nervous and horny. I followed him up to his third floor apartment, and removed my shoes as I walked in.
He told me he wanted to talk with me for a while, make sure I was comfortable, but that part of bondage is being uncomfortable, so I should strip down to my boxers. I complied and handed him my clothes, which he took into another room. He returned and sat on the couch, and I was to stand on the round wooden coffee table in front of it.
I was nervous, but my cock was starting to stiffen. We talked about innocuous things for a little while, and the first few words were difficult, having been put on display like I was, but slowly they flowed more easily. Quickly, our conversation shifted to some of the more "adult" things we'd talked about online.
My cock couldn't help but grow hard, and I instinctively tried to make that less apparent. He could not help but notice and asked me if I was self conscious about my erection. I told him I was, and he commanded that I unbutton my boxers and pull it out through the slit. All of a sudden, there I was, hiding nothing from someone I'd had a conversation with for less than a few hours.
He told me I had a nice cock, to which I thanked him and probably turned pretty red. He asked me if I liked showing him my dick. I told him yes. He said good, because it would be out very often. He also asked if I'd had as little bondage experience as I'd said, to which I told him yes again. Now, he said, it was time to take my boxers off. I complied once again, and handed them to him.
I stood there and talked with him for several more minutes, my hands behind my back per his orders, my body on display on the coffee table.
He stood and told me to follow him into the bedroom, where I watched him toss my boxers into a safe that I could only assume held the rest of my clothes. On his bed was a box filled with various bondage items. He told me that he knew I preferred rope bondage, but that I was going to have to submit to him as opposed to him binding me.
He handed me a leather collar with four D-rings on it. I fastened it tightly around my neck. Next he gave me handcuffs, and told me that once they were on me, I was his to enjoy. I paused for a moment, before locking them onto my wrists behind my back.
Now, for the first time, I was helpless in front of Ross. He smiled somewhat evilly, which gave my cock another twitch. The great thing about cuffs, he told me, was that there was no escaping. I was his until he decided to let me go, whereas rope provided a possibility for escape, not that I could from his ties anyways.
He gave my stomach a little slap, just enough to get my attention. "I want you to realize, I can do anything I want to you now," he informed me. "You know how I said you'd be naked most of the time here?" I nodded. "I lied. You'll be naked all of the time."
This only made me hornier. He brought me over in front of an armchair, where he forced me to my knees. He asked me if I wanted to see his cock in person. I nodded eagerly. He asked me if I was willing to be trained to give head. Another nod. He told me that the first thing I had to do was beg to suck him dry.
I'd never sucked a dick before, let alone begged to, so this was completely new to me. For about a half hour, I moaned and pleaded with him to let me suck his cock. Before he finally relented, he told me that I should understand that sucking his cock was a privilege and a reward, not a right. Every time I was allowed to wrap my lips around his dick, I was to thank him for it. I nodded again.
I had to scooch closer to be able to lean over without losing my balance. He didn't push my head down at all while letting me go to work. I took his head in my mouth, him being about seven inches and circumcised (as I am also) and started bobbing up and down. I didn't expect to do a great job, and concentrated on keeping my teeth out of the way. His cock tasted as any other bit of skin does with the wetness of my saliva and his precum.
As I worked, I wondered what his cum would taste like, knowing he'd expect me to swallow. I'd heard conflicting reports, and the thought made me a little nervous. I wanted to enjoy the taste, but didn't know if I would. He let me work for a few minutes before instructing me to take as much of him as I could in my mouth. I responded by forcing my head down until a disappointing three inches had disappeared. He reassured me this was good for a first try, but that I'd eventually have to learn to deep throat him. I was to be punished if I didn't learn fast enough.
I worked on going deeper and deeper while I blew him, but seemed to make little progress. What I did make some progress at was getting him closer to cumming. He told me he hadn't cum for a while, wanting it to be relatively easy for me to get him off, so I could expect a big load. This did little to ease my nerves.
After a few more minutes, he started moaning that he was close. I took this as my cue to focus my efforts on his head. His cock stiffened as a warning before he shot several ropes of cum into my mouth. The first few splashed down my throat and I had to struggle not to cough or gag, before he eventually began dribbling on my tongue.
After he finished and slid his dick out, he told me to hold his cum in my mouth. The taste wasn't as bad as I thought, but a bit stronger, not unlike salt water, but thicker. The vulgarity of semen sloshing around in my mouth only served to make me hornier. He tucked his cock back into his pants before he made me swallow.
After I'd swallowed my first load, he covered his cock and stood up. He helped me to my feet and brought me back over to the box on the bed. He grabbed a rubber cock ring and stretched it over my dick. It had another smaller ring that dangled below my balls, making it in essence a figure eight. To this loop he attached a leash that was about fifteen feet long.
He took pleasure in dragging me around the room and his apartment for several minutes, and I loved the control he had over me. Sometime he would pull me close so he could stroke my cock or swat my ass, or lightly slap my balls. Everything he did made me hornier and hornier. Finally he pulled me over to a sliding glass door that opened to a small balcony. There were blinds that could be drawn across the door to block the sun. He attached my leash to the rod, tightening it until I had to stand on my tiptoes. I was both nervous and exhilarated at the fact that I was showing my body out the door, even with the balcony rail somewhat blocking the view. The rod proved to be surprisingly strong. “Don’t fall over,” he said, heading out the door. Before I could reply, the door slammed shut and he was gone.