It had taken me some time to take that step. Months of thinking and fantasising, messaging and more fantasising. More than once I thought I was ready - until I talked myself out of it. Perhaps it was best just left to my imagination. But I could not get that picture of a stiffening cock out of my mind, teasing it, pleasing it and then allowing it to explore me.
Did I say allowing? Of course I didn't mean allowing. I meant being taken, dominated, broken in, used.
And then one day, I replied to one of those requests from the website for my phone number. The thrill of expectation, of knowing that a dominant male had my number, knew what was on my mind, could call when he felt like it, could call when his hunger stirred.
Of course it was just a phone number, I could reject the call, turn him down. He would never know who I was. But he had my number, he had read my messages, he knew what was on my mind in every detail. It's easy to be bold when it is just words to a stranger. Perhaps he wouldn't call anyway.
But then he did. A firm confident voice on my phone. I had considered some rules in advance, a neutral place near to my place, not his, just a quick drink, a coffee not alcohol, and then leave, give myself time to think about it. But the firm confident voice said to meet at a bar close to his place. And I said yes. He said in an hour and I said yes.
I got ready, I washed, I changed. And I was there on time. I knew who he was right away, but older than I had thought, stockier than I had thought. Not right, I knew, but I introduced myself anyway. No harm in a quick drink.
He smiled and we chatted. Ordinary stuff. He bought me a drink. A coffee I said but he insisted on a beer. I hadn't heard of the type, didn't know it was 5%. The talk was banal. I was nervous so kept gulping my beer. He was slower, more measured, more confident and drank slower.
I finished my beer and he ordered another without asking. I didn't want it, but I was nervous and kept gulping it. He smiled, I flushed and he smiled again to see the effect he had on me. A flash of him naked in front of me raced across my imagination. I didn't like the picture but he caught my eyes, it seemed than he knew what I was thinking. He smiled again and I went bright red.
He had ordered me another beer I did not want but I gulped it down to hide my embarrassment.
Then I said I should go and he said 'If you like'. But his hand strayed under the table and brushed the crotch of my trousers. To my horror, I started to harden. I tried to control it but the alcohol had relaxed me. I was embarrassed to get up. And then his hand reached out again and two fingers sought out the profile of my cock, now erect at his command, slowly tracing its length before letting go. He didn't say anything but just looked into my eyes. Then his hand took mine beneath the table and guided it to his crotch so I could feel his male excitement.
Abruptly he got up and told me we were going. No request or explanation but I found myself following him. Through the bar, out into the street and then a brisk five-minute walk in silence until we were standing in a doorway and he was unlocking the door. Then we were up the stairs and in his flat.
As he stood in front of me I knew even more that he was not my fantasy, that he was not my choosing. But I had let my weakness be known to a dominant male and he would take advantage of that. He pushed me firmly to my knees and pulled my face into his crotch, pressed forcefully against the stiffened rod inside. Slowly he undid his belt leaving the buckle dangling in front of my face as he undid his trousers and let them fall to his ankles. I could see his size clearly through the cotton of his pants, both worrying and fascinating. Still growing in anticipation, the tip began to emerge over the top of his y-fronts, the shaft thick and pink, its tip glistening with pre-cum. He wanted me to pull his pants down but I hesitated. I had never meant to offer myself to this man, there was no pleasure for me here.
I leant back but he just stood closer, his cock now fully erect with the nob clear of the elastic, dribbles of sperm rolling over the tip. I was arched back, his feet either side of my knees as he looked down on me. He was strong and I was weak, we both knew that I could not refuse. So he took my hands in his, gently placing them to each side of his pants and I found myself easing them down to release his cock, now throbbing in full erection as the blood pumped, an inch from my face, its flared aperture oozing pre-cum. His appetite would not be denied.
With a hand on either side of my head he firmly positioned me before rubbing my mouth over the tip of his cock, brushing the pre-cum off onto my lips as I held my mouth tightly shut, my last show of dignity.
Suddenly he reached down, pinching one of my nipples hard and as I gasped he forced his cock inside my mouth. I tried to pull my head back but his hands held it firmly in position. My mouth was full of his excited member, warm and demanding. I tried to move my tongue out of the way but only succeeded in licking him as he groaned in delight.
At first he just worked his shaft around my mouth, exploring, enjoying his right to access as he wished. At one point he pushed deeper, blocking my windpipe before he pulled back. His eyes caught mine and we both knew he was just showing me what would happen if I did not co-operate. He knew I wasn't ready for this this, and that just excited him more. He would take me as he had taken so many before, my naivety against his experience. It was no match.
He started to thrust, shallow and rapidly. I could do nothing but co-operate as he took his pleasure with me. I could feel his excitement rising and then his buttocks clench with extra urgency as his thrusts grew stronger and his grunts of pleasure told me that his climax was near. The shock of that first spurt hit the back of my mouth, a pause and then it was filling with his sticky cream, spurt after spurt has he ejaculated his manly load.
Afterwards, as his passion ebbed he stood for a while watching me swallow his sperm gulf by gulp. And then he casually withdrew and wiped his still erect member on a towel, hardly even acknowledging my existence anymore.
He had casually taken me and used me for a moment's release. He probably couldn't even remember my name. But in doing so he had made me a man who had sucked another mans' cock and swallowed his sperm and now there was no going back for me.
He smiled at me as though just an acquaintance and then he had pulled his pants and trousers back up and everything seemed normal again. No-one looking now would know what had just happened unless they happen to spot the satisfied smile on my companion's face – and the dribble of sperm running down from the corner of my mouth.
I should have left then but I was confused, embarrassed, the taste of his sperm still pervading my mouth. I needed reassurance, to try to make this all feel right before I could step back into the world outside. He offered me a cup of tea.
As we sat and talked he asked me if I had enjoyed it. I tried to explain my feelings, that I did not find him attractive, that he was not my fantasy. That it was all a mistake. He was very supportive, he understood these things. Of course I could have said no and he would not have not have stopped me leaving. But I had not and instead had obediently sucked him off. He offered me a whiskey to get the taste out of my mouth. I complimented him on his magnificent cock. And we chatted me some more.
Finally, when there was nothing left to be said, I indicated that I should be going. Out of the blue the kindness left his face as he told me to take my trousers down and bend over. I was shocked. He looked at me and told me again, his eyes fixed on mine. I hesitated and he said not to make him ask again. I found myself doing what I was told. And then there I was bent over in just my underpants, waiting for him.
As he approach I tried to move away but he held me firmly with one arm and I could only wait, listening, first to the sound of his buckle unfastening, and then his zip before his trousers and finally his pants dropped to the floor, releasing his erection.
Confident in my obedience he released me to slip on a condom and then I glimpsed him applying some lubricating jelly, unhurriedly squeezing the clear liquid onto the tip and shaft before rubbing it up and down its length smiling as he saw the uncontrollable effect this movement had on my own cock. I could not help thinking back to our earlier chat. Was he getting ready even as we were chatting, grooming me, allowing an hour to pass just so he could recover his appetite?
I told him I really didn't want to do this but we both knew that I would. He told me to bend further, to grip the arms of the chair in front of me and not to move or let go. I did as I was told without further protest. Then I felt strong hands gripping either side of my hips and could hear him panting in anticipation as he positioned himself behind me.
I could feel the tip of his cock probing my buttocks, then as the target was found, the cap began to intrude gently at first but as the shaft slowly sunk deeper into me I grimaced. I started to struggle, clenching in resistance. His cock seemed impossibly large for my virgin anus which now was shuddering with involuntary contractions. But he just waited until each contraction eased before driving his cock he drove a little further. I was no match for his expertise. And then his massive watchtower was fully inside me, an intruder, hungry and ready for satisfaction.
He started to fuck me slowly, with long deep thrusts, his shaft forcing the walls of my anus to yield, rubbing them raw despite the lubricant as he slid in and out, savouring each thrust. I bucked in agony, trying to unseat him but he just manoeuvred me round until I was facing the wall mirror so he could watch the expression on my face as he enjoyed himself with me.
He leant forward to whisper in my ear. He explained, that I was weak and submissive, that it was for him to choose not me, that he would do whatever he liked with me, that he had chosen oral first so that the subsequent penetration would last longer and rub harder, that he would be taking me regularly through the night, each time longer and rougher. I would do these things for him because he wished it. If I wanted to spare my anus at least in part he would teach me how to pleasure him properly with my tongue, learning little tricks to please him, using my imagination, that I would do all of this because he chose it, not because I wanted it.
And then he stood back up and showed me what a dominant male could do as he fucked me ruthlessly until finally he took his prize and came deep inside me.
Later that interminable night I finally left, sore and humiliated vowing never to return.
But he had my phone number. And after a few days he phoned me again telling me to come that evening. I refused, I would not. But soon I found myself standing at his door, ringing the bell and then being led upstairs.
Over the coming weeks he broke me and trained me, using me in every way imaginable. I never learned to fancy him but learned to please him, to pleasure his cock in my mouth, to swallow his sperm without question, to endure his penetration no matter the pain.
I learned to tease his cock with my tongue, to tantalise it with little flicks, before encouraging it deep into my mouth. I learned to smile, in compliance, as others watched him penetrate me and take his vigorous pleasure. They could not know the relentless discipline that had preceded this.
No matter what indignities I suffered, whenever the phone rang and I was summoned, I still found myself standing in front of that door again.
And so I was taught the true nature of domination.