My journey from submissive cock slut to power-top

After I finally understood and released my sexual identity, I never felt regret after cumming or worthlessness after visiting the sex venues. It was a new chapter.

I felt the continual urge to fuck, but I had no urge to be fucked myself. I occassionally bottomed for a few vers guys who wanted to take revenge on me after I destroyed their hole. I made them wrestle for my hole. Most guys freak at the idea, they thought I was joking, so nothing happened of course. But a few took the challenge.

When you're naked, sweaty, in a dimly lit booth on a leather mattress, a wrestle doesn't last long. If he was half-hearted, he capitulated instantly. He wouldn't have been good at fucking. He wanted to lose anyway. And if instead he really fought me, as only a few did, then I knew the sex was going to be good.

Instead of haunting the venue as I used to, trying to be sought by every guy, I instead learnt to just ignore every guy. Eventually, the hungriest men come to you. And with the hungriest, you can pretty much do anything you want.

The sex venues are full of standard phrases - if you enter a booth not knowing each other's preferences, one of us asks "Are you top or bottom?" I learnt that, most times, they ask that because they're vers and think they might be able to get a chance to play top. If you yourself answer vers or bottom, they'll want to top you, and if you answer top, they'll find an excuse to hunt around for another guy.

So I had no time for that question ever again, and when I was asked it, I answered with my body. I ignored it, I kissed him and pinned him to the wall forcefully. Still kissing him, I gripped the back of his neck tight like a vice, and with my other hand - which, between kissing, I'd cover in saliva - would worm between his buttocks and begin rubbing his hole. It leaves no questions and sorts out who's boss.

I only had one guy panic. "I'm a top, I'm a top," he gasped. I paused kissing him, but twisted my finger further into his hole, "Are you sure?" He was breathless and stunned. Guess what the little fucker wanted to do? He spent the next five minutes finding another guy to bring to the booth, because he wanted to watch me fuck them. And after that, I went and showered, and he came and showered with me. He didn't leave my side the whole night, he was like a puppy. He even tried to find me other guys.

If you've read my recollections, you'll know I was never drunk or high and I have a good memory. I remember faces in the sex venues, which is sometimes easy since they're often repeat customers. When I was going through my submissive cock slut phase, there was once a muscular man, about 6 years older than me, shorter than me, sitting in the dark steam room. I had been desperate to suck every cock I could, and I remember this handsome muscle man rejecting me (as you do in a sex venue style: you shake your head, push away with your hand, and quickly move your body out of reach). Months later I recognised his face on Grindr, and we chatted briefly but again he wasn't interested. I thought, him being muscular and me being strong but not evidently muscular, maybe he was only interested in guys ripped like him.

I hadn't seen his face for about two years, and in the meantime I'd released an inner beast and travelled overseas. I found myself in a gay sex venue overseas, one underground, fuelling an orgy. Everyone was naked and wearing shoes, which I found surprisingly kinky. Where once I used to be the one sucking cock desperately, instead I was standing on a bench, pouring beer down my stomach, with men drinking the beer as it ran across my dick. Yes, guys, you can combine beer drinking and cocksucking. And the taste is heaps better.

However, despite all the changes in me, one thing didn't actually change. I still liked the taste of men. Their sweat, their hair, their sweaty hole, and their cum. I'm addicted to cum. I don't seek out bottoming, I don't even fantasise about being a bottom, but I love sucking dick and swallowing cum. Gays are full of bullshit about how "you must be a bottom if you like sucking cock." If I want to fuck a man, it means I'm attracted to them, so why on earth shouldn't I be attracted their qualities? The sight of them, their body, their touch, their sound, and their taste. That thirst has never gone away.

The other thing that didn't go away either, was me avoiding cumming at the sex venue until my last encounter for the day. Beforehand, I avoided cumming partly because of the regret that overcame me, but partly because it meant I could turn around and be fucked again. I used to say "I'm spent," to avoid being asked to cum. When I discovered myself as a top, I kept the trick, letting guys think I'd cum, wherein they'd inevitedly blow their own load, which I would drink up, and then I'd move on from them to another man.

So when I came back from overseas, I returned to the sex venue I had haunted for years. Every now and then in life, there's poetry to events. I'm still amazed at what happened this day. The hunk who had rejected me a year or two ago was there. I wasn't interested in him. Why should I be? Good looking but useless. I knew what I was looking for nowadays. But it turned out that me not displaying any interest in him, actually made him want me.

I was walking through the maze and I passed one of the dark private bedded booths. A hand grabbed me, and I held my surprise when I saw it was the handsome muscular hunk. I resisted him. I was going to reject for bastard, just to have some sweet vengeance. He pulled harder. So I thought, Fuck you, and I entered the booth. I didn't know if he was top or bottom - possibly bottom, since he was dragging me in - but I had already decided I was going to fuck his brains out. He latched the door and we began making out very gently.

If I had learnt one thing from being a slutty sub for years, and learnt especially from my first experience that made me break barriers, it was that tender sex is boring, and aggressive sex was boring too. But when the two are combined, then there are sparks. The moments of tenderness instill trust, and the moments of aggression are surprises that punctuate the sensations, and then the tenderness then becomes like a cat playing with a mouse, and the aggression becomes the moments where you can push comfort zones.

So after kissing him gently, I pushed forward. I made it seem like this was going to be vanilla all the way. Just when I sensed he was an inch from the wall, I slammed his back into it. The whole booth shuddered. "Whoa!" he laughed nervously. I didn't stop my actions and just said "It'll survive." That was his first clue what he was in for.

We were still wearing towels, beginning to grind our hard-ons against each other. I knew the repertoire I had to work though. Pinning his hands above his head, eating out his armpits, sucking his nipples, but most of all licking his ear hole and breathing deeply down them. As planned, that started to make him dizzy and when we began kissing again, I manouvered his body, causing him to fall back on the mattress. I gripped his whole body, lowering him to sit down. This was a little more tenderness.

He began feeling around my cock through my towel, him sitting, me standing. I knew I was going to make the bitch choke on my cock eventually, but not yet. Still kissing, I ran my fingers through his hair. "You are so handsome," I breathed into his ear. A little more tenderness. I clenched my hand violently, beginning to tear his hair, and pulled his head firmly back, gripped his throat with my other hand. I knew I was hurting his hair and throat, just for a moment, and this was his next prelude. It shocked him, but it was quickly supplanted with tenderness. Still kissing him deeply, I moved my hand from his neck, to his loin, and tugged open his towel. I relaxed my grip on his hair, transferred it to his neck, and while rubbing his cock I began eating out his ear again, dizzing him.

I raised myself to tower over him, and in his eyes I could see he was ready to suck my cock, which was still poking in my towel. I wasn't going to let him have it yet. I leant in once more, kissing him, and I gripped his hips and worked his butt the edge of the mattress. With his centre of balance unstable, he was supporting himself with his arms. I grabbed and pulled his wrists so he immediately started to fall. He clenched his abs in shock - another tease surprise - but I quickly tensed my arms and caught his fall, and began to allow him to lower gently till he was lying down. I began kissing my way down his sweating abs, and as I reached his cock, I entwined my fingers with his fingers, and began eating around his cock and balls. I began clenching and declenching my hands, building up a rhythm in one part of my body, and then I began sucking his cock. Everytime I rose, I pulsed my hands, and went back down again.

I had not once touched my cock. I was still in my towel, kneeling, sucking him. It was a simple visual to show him that my enjoyment was his enjoyment. Trust was being built all the time. I prided myself on my cocksucking skills. When the tempo needed changing, I began forcing myself deeper, gagging. Most guys are happy enough with this alone. I then switched to running my mouth along the shaft and then, once more buried my face, and sucked so hard like I was drawing poison from a wound. Keeping up the pressure, I began face-fucking his cock. He was moaning too happily, so I deliberately let my teeth bump. He jolted, and then I hit him with my favourite trick. I began rolling his cock head around my mouth, continually twisting it between my tongue and molars. Then I let go of his hands, and spilling saliva all over his cock, my hands joined in at his dick, acting as an extension of my mouth. I would suck tight, my hands replacing the tightness of my lips, and move up the shaft, suck tightly, add another hand; then, once I was at thecock tip, I would slither my mouth down hurriedly. It simulated an impossibly long blow-job, and I kept this going until his loin was completely covered in saliva and sweat.

I raised his legs, one at a time, over my shoulders. He was trusting me, but he had no idea what I was going to do. After all, my towel was still on, and I was still sucking him. I wrapped my hands around his thighs and pulled him up, almost pulling him completely off the mattress. "I'm about to fall -" Except I stood, lifting his legs, causing his back to arch, and balancing him, his butt pressed against my chest, his groin in my face. Only his shoulders were on the mattress. His arms were splayed, hopelessly gripping the edge of the mattress. Like that'd do anything. He felt vulnerable, but I was holding him, sucking him, supporting his weight. Yes, bitch, I'm not ripped but I'm as strong as you. Then I replaced the motions of my mouth with my hand. While one hand stroked his dick, I began eating out his arse, and using my other hand - alternating my tongue poking through, or my finger, and nuzzling my face, running my nose and tongue along his butthole.

I then manouvered his legs off my shoulders, making him lie on the edge of the bed, perpendicular to me, his face close to my crotch. I could see desperation in his eyes. He was desperate to please me, to keep me going. I ignored him as he undid my towel, and I just leant down and kept sucking him. It was a standing/lying 69'ing. I felt my towel drop and his lips surround my cock. I leant back, and fondled his hair, a small thank you gesture, and then I thrusted. I twisted his nipple hard. His hands were lying uselessly, so I brought him back to his senses, guiding a hand to my mouth, and began sucking his fingers, and I began thrusting harder. I could see his face beginning to become pained, choking my cock. Pain had to be conditioned with relief. I pushed deep, paused, and then went back down on his cock with furious blow jobs. He wriggled his face free from my cock, gasping but the pain had been replaced with ecstasy in his loins.

I would be lying if I remembered how the foreplay continued. One action dissolved into another, and I kept hurting him, tossing him about, gripping him, tearing at his hair, and began making deep lovebites over his nipples, but everytime I rewarded him after the pain. His hole was quite loose after another 5 minutes, I'd almost managed to get every finger inside. Everytime I inserted a finger in deeply, I twisted it around, making him howl in pleasure.

I eventually ended up crouched over him as he lay on his back, me breathing down his ear "You are one of the most beautifullest men I've ever seen." Tenderness. Then I suddenly pinned his neck, choking him. Surprise. I had a reputation for being abe to nearly simulate a blowjob with my hand (yes guys, it is possible, with a lot of spit, and dynamic use of the fingers) and I began this while he was choking. I tightened my strangle, kissing deeper, and then worked his cock faster. Every step of the way I was training him. You only got more pleasure, if you accepted more pain. His body began spasming and he tried to push me off him. He could've pushed me off earlier, so I knew this was just play.

I slammed his wrists down when he tried to push me away. I won the struggle instantly. We breathed heavily for a moment, all the actions pausing. "Get on your knees," I ordered. I stepped off the mattress. He grabbed a condom from the dispenser and handed it to me, and then he rotated onto his knees, his arse pointing up. The bitch wanted to be fucked already. I tossed the condom over the wall into another booth. He was confused. I knelt on the mattress behind him, and began eating out his arse once again, and one hand stimulating a blowjob, the other hand massaging his balls. I then stopped and withdrew and did nothing. Three seconds and he'd wonder what was going on. Wait. His head turned, and then I whipped his arse with my hand. Our bodies were so sweaty, his arse was juicy, and my hand was strong. The smack was so loud. He half screamed, but I then buried my face again in his arse, while massaging his cock. Pain and pleasure. I withdrew again. He knew what was coming, but I had a good sense of timing, and surprised him again with another almighty slap. I pushed my face so forcefully into his arse, his body was almost thrust forward into the booth wall.

I wanted him to panic, so I positioned myself doggy style, gripping his neck, kissing him, but instead of fucking him, I was stroking him. I began building up speed. I wanted him to panic that he was going to cum, without having been filled with my cock. "No, no, no -" he was beginning. I knew that whenever guys said they were close, they could go even further. I had learnt from a lot of trial and error. So I changed my hand movements. At the same time I began thrusting my hips, rubbing my cock across his arse cheeks. His body was shaking, and I could feel pre-cum beginning to leak from his cock.

Everything became a blur after that point. I did end up burying my cock in his arse, raw, gripping his hips, whipping his arse, strangling him and forcing my fingers down his throat while fucking him. His body, by the end of this, was going to be a mess of love bites and bruises. I thrust so hard, so fast - it was all my years of working my hips as a bottom, transferred to being a stop. Our sweaty bodies had built up a furious slap-slap-slap sounding rhythm.

I didn't ask where he wanted me to cum. I just breathed "Cum with me." I was lying of course. Fucking him like a dog, my hands under his belly, milking his cock, I knew he was close. I feigned my orgasm, yelling and beating him off furiously. I knew he was going to cum quickly. I withdrew my cock and forcefully spun him to fall onto his back. I was standing, choking him with one hand, kneeling over his groin, grabbing his cock with my other hand. I sucked his cock deep and fast. Finish him, was what went through my mind. His body was convulsing, he was gasping for breath, and his cock began spurting cum into my mouth. I kept up the pressure and the hand movements. I was determined to work his cock through his orgasm, to the point that it became painful. His body was shaking all over, and I could hear sobs. I relaxed my stranglehold, swallowed his sweet cum, and then I let all of my aggression evaporate.

He was completely destroyed, shaking, half-crying, but I immediately transferred to laying kisses all over his body. I hadn't cummed, so I had no impulse to relax. I just kept devouring his body, sucking his nipples, fondling his cock, every action of mine was devoted to his body, massaging it, cradling it, rewarding it, and reminding it. I slid myself to lie on the mattress behind him. He was too damaged and worn to reciprocate, but I knew he never wanted me to stop embracing him. When he finally took a deep breath, his heart pace relaxing, I told him to shower.

He was barely able to stand up. He actually collapsed against the wall. I moved to catch him. "I'll be ok," he said. He looked at me. I'm tall, pale, lean, and not muscular looking, and long hair. I don't consider myself good-looking, but I know I can give the face on an angel when I want to. He looked me up and down, like he couldn't believe what demon was stored inside me. Of course I gave him the Bambi eyes treatment. "Fuck me," he muttered. He unlatched the door and stumbled his way to the showers.

We showered separately but close to each other, I cleaned my dick, but I totally ignored my muscle conquest while he showered. I wasn't going to give him that pleasure. Because I never came, my dick was still semi-hard, looking larger. As soon as I cleaned my dick, I wrapped my towel around me and walked out. It was as I said, I wanted more cum, so I was going to find another guy to fuck. The showers were on the side of the maze of booths, in front of the staircase that led down to the locker rooms.

You can choose not to believe the next part. If you've hung out a gay sex venues once a week for several years, you'll know that once in a blue moon, magic happens. Today was that day, and it was going to get better. This is why I'm sharing the story. Out of hundreds of experiences, it's worth sharing.

I headed down the staircase, and guess who was undressing there? My dark Fijian friend, the first guy I'd ever ravaged. We had been now meeting there for two years, running into each other sometimes on a Wednesday afternoon. I lost count of how many times we fucked, and we didn't even have to say hi to each other anymore. We just began making out. Or sometimes we hunted separately, or together, and sometimes we competed to see how many cocks we could drain in the steam room.

I knew instantly what I was going to do.

The Fijian's eyes flittered to me but I ignored him. I darted past the lockers, to the small lounge. I gulped a cup of chiled water and swallowed a peppermint. Then I stepped back into the locker-room. As I approached my Fijian friend, I stopped behind him. He was in his underwear, staring into his locker. I embraced him from behind. Usually you don't get hotted up in the locker-room, so our sense of kink shot through the roof. I began rubbing myself against his clothed arse, breathing into his ear. He hadn't even undressed and he was being seduced. He stood frozen there, starting to melt. "Get your arse upstairs now," I said. I ascended the staircase and headed back towards the showers. Today, the gods were smiling on me.

My muscle friend had just finished showering. I leant against the side of the maze and waited for him to step out of the showers. "I thought you'd left," he said, wrapping his towel around his waist. He leant against the wall beside me. "Do you want to get a drink together?" I shook my head "Maybe later." There was a perfect, awkward pause, except for thudding music.

Finally, I broke the silence. "I remember you," I said. The man panicked, like he'd been identified in real life. I looked at him. "I mean, I remember you from a few years ago. In here." He was taken aback. "Fuck I don't remember," he said. I was loving this. "I know," I said. "You were in the steam room and I thought you were gorgeous... But you weren't interested." A look of pain crossed his face. He didn't remember me, but I could see he was imagining what fun he'd missed out on.

Perfectly on cue, my dark Fijian friend had ascended the staircase, now wrapped in a towel, and was heading slowly towards us. He was confused, seeing me leaning there casually with this muscled hunk. Were we a duo? A sly smile crept in on my face. My Fijian, not knowing quite what to do, diverted in front of us, about to enter the maze. You wouldn't have known we knew each other so well. Now was the moment.

I pushed myself forwards off the wall. I was going to put on a show for the muscled hunk. I brazenly wrapped my arms around the Fijian walking away from me, bringing him to a standstill, and began eating out his ear. If you're used to bathhouses and sex venues, this is not a standard opening move. I could tell the muscled hunk absolutely stunned seeing the confidence with which I arrested this man and made him mine. My Fijian moaned in ecstasy, so I spun him around and pinned him against the wall. He'd always liked the moves I'd first used on him, so I pinned his hands above his head and tug open his towel, exposing him. I grinded my towelled hips mercilessly, eating out his armpits, nipples, choking him, writhing against the wall, making him whimper again and again.

I feigned ignoring my muscled friend. But I could see he was jaw-dropped. Did he work out I hadn't actually cummed? Or was I just impossibly ready for round two? I pushed the side of the maze wall beside us which I knew to be a booth door, and me and my Fijian slipped inside. I latched the door, spun my Fijian to face the wall. He fell forwards against it, I made sure he did, causing it to thudder. Then I immediately whipped his bare fat arse with the back of my hand. He yelled in pain. I whipped it again, and again, and again, each slap sounding loudly, and then then buried my face in his fat arse. Yells turned to moans. I stood back up, spat on my finger and hooked it in his hole. Then I grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the wall. It shook again, and his wails reached a new crescendo as I twisted my finger. I used the full force of my body, deepening my finger, making him slam further into the wall again and again. "Aaaaah!" he was wailing. I made sure the wall kept shaking. Then I withdrew my finger, and whipped him so hard across his arse I felt like it was going to break my wrist. "Oh my GOD!" He yelled. I pushed him to bend over the mattress and began eating out his arse. "FUCK ME!!!" he moaned so loudly. Every booth must have heard him by now.

It was an auditory performance for my muscled friend outside. Of course I never forgot doing this. But in the moment, I quickly forgot about the muscled man outside, I became absorbed in breeding my Fijian. The muscled man wasn't there when we finally emerged.

Next week, I was at the venue again. So was the muscle man. It really was quite funny. As soon as he saw I was there, he hurried up to me and said "Let's get a booth." I didn't play so nice this time. We were barely minutes in when I was choking him, biting him, spitting on him, and spanking his juicy arse till it was red. Dogging him again, I yelled down his ear when I feigned cumming, and his cock spurt cum all over the mattress. I withdrew from his arse, gripped his hair, forced his head down to the mattress to suck up every last bit of his cum. Then I twisted his head towards me, and began kissing his cum from his mouth, relishing its taste.

I was beating myself furiously, and decided to unleash. It'd look like I was cumming all over again. I forced his head down to my erect cock, which was still wet from having been raw in his arse. I plunged my cock to the back of his throat and burst my load. He was gagging, but I kept him there. Then I pulled his hair back up, so he could face me, his mouth dripping with my cum. I then began kissing him again, both of us swallowing our cum mixed together.

I don't care to recount my other escapades, but these were the encounters that shaped me, and made me find myself, and some have beautiful symmetry and I remember so clearly. I am fucking proud to have experienced them and given these experiences to those other men. I actually haven't had sex since the chaos of 2020, but I keep getting messaged by some of the guys. It's a strange feeling, still being wanted after two years of being cold turkey. The sex venue itself ultimately had to close, the government's restrictions and lack of clientele made it no longer financially viable. I regret I won't be seeing that one again. Sharing my experiences here has helped me let off a lot of steam built up over the last years. I hope you've enjoyed it.

This is my first time writing about my experiences. Say hello if you like it. ;-)

ps Everyone in this post is over 18 years old, just to be clear.