I placed the ad online without much hope of an answer but you never knew, something might come of it:
Obedient Sub Craving Use – Outdoors, Anonymous, No Limits if You Take Control
Late 40s sub. Fit, discreet, and trained to obey. Looking for a dominant presence—preferably younger—to tell me where to go, what to wear (or not wear), and what to do when I get there. You give the instructions; I follow without hesitation.
Willing to strip outdoors and present myself on command. No need for back and forth—just tell me what you want and I’ll be there. Need release through obedience, especially when stressed. Humiliation, risk, control all welcome.
If you know what it means to own a body with just your voice, you’ll know what to do. I don’t need your name—I just need your command.
Tell me where to be.
When I received the reply, I was surprised. It was short and direct. It was perfect. He told me where and when to be and exactly how to wait for him. I just had to show up and do as I was told. It was 7 PM. The meeting time was 4 excruciating hours away. I lived with a roommate. I tried to remain relaxed as I watched the clock tick by.
I had a not so secret crush on Damien. He was 20 years my junior and incredibly hot. Living with him had been my idea -- to save money I'd said. And we were best friends. I know it sounds improbable but we had a lot in common and fell into an easy friendship. Still, I didn't share with him my kinkier side. He was a former Christian Academy boy and my baser desires didn't seem like things he'd understand.
At 10:30 as I walked to the door, I told him that I had a hookup. It wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the hookup he was probably imagining. He knew me as a pretty vanilla, serial monogamist. I didn’t hookup often but I was currently single and it’d been a few months so he jokingly called me a slut but didn’t even stop gaming long enough to look up. Still, telling this lie, confirming to myself that I was going to do this, had my stomach in knots.
It was late September so the weather had started to turn cool. If I tried this a in a month, the cold would have been my excuse to stay home. Sit on the couch with Damien and eat popcorn. But here I was, walking toward the trail as described in the response to my ad. My legs felt weak. He’d said to walk to the trail near my house, to the bushes just before the clearing on the river side, strip completely and walk 10 paces from my clothes and wait.
I was trembling by the time I ducked behind the bushes. I fumbled with my clothes with shaking hands. In a moment my shoes were off, my jeans folded carefully and tucked with my t-shirt behind a tree, like I could pretend it was neat—intentional—like I had control over what I was doing. I kept my underwear on. Boxer Briefs. I looked at the time. He said to be ready by 11 PM. It was 5 minutes to 11. I walked back to my clothes and started to unfold them and put them back on. Then stopped. I had come this far. He probably wouldn’t show anyway. Instead of leaving, I slipped off my briefs and sat them on top of my shirt then walked deeper into the shadow. My skin buzzed with nerves and the kind of heat that only builds when I’m stressed and trying to burn something off inside.
I didn’t recognize the screen name, and I didn’t care. That was the point. I wanted to disappear into the role—let someone else decide who I was for a while.
So there I was. Naked in the dark. My heart thudding so loud it felt like it echoed through the branches. I jumped at every sound. I could see where I'd left my clothes but if anyone unexpected showed up, there's no way I could get to them and dress before they saw me.
That’s when I heard the footsteps. Not heavy, not sneaky either—just casual, confident.
Then a voice:
“Well, well… what a surprise. I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting you to go through with it.”
I froze. My body locked up, like my bones had turned to ice. That voice—impossible to mistake.
“Damien?”
I turned toward it slowly, dread and arousal crashing together in my stomach. And there he was. Blond hair catching the moonlight, hands in the pockets of his hoodie like this was just some regular night and not the moment my life was about to unravel.
He was staring straight at me. Not looking away. Not laughing yet either.
“What are you doing out here, Steve?” he asked, too calmly.
I tried to speak, but all that came out was a dry breath. I felt like I might throw up.
Then he pulled his hand out of his hoodie pocket. My briefs. In his hand. My underwear dangling from his fingers. Until that moment, I hadn't truly understood what was happening.
“Oh,” like it just occurred to him. “Were these yours?”
“Wait—how did you...?” My voice cracked.
He smirked. “You think I wouldn’t recognize your writing? Or that username you always use? Come on. I'm 'Master D'." he laughed. "I almost didn't use that screen name, I thought you'd know it was me. Guess I was wrong.”
Heat rushed to my face, hot and awful. I curled in on myself, hands trying to cover too many places at once.
He stepped closer. “So what’s this all about, huh? Needed to get used and tossed around by some stranger?”
His words cut right into me. God. He wasn’t even trying to sound cruel. That’s what made it worse.
“I—” I choked, unsure what I was trying to explain. Like I could explain this to Damien. My best friend. The man I’ve watched shirtless a hundred times while pretending I wasn’t looking. The one person I never wanted to know this part of me.
And now he was holding it in his hands. My submission. My shame.
“You’re blushing,” voice dropping an octave. “But you’re not running. Interesting.”
He moved even closer. I could smell him—his cologne, his skin, that slight musk that hit something deep in my chest. And I couldn’t move.
Then, in a tone I’d never heard from him before:
“Show me.”
I looked at him, wide-eyed, hoping maybe he was joking. But he wasn’t. His eyes didn’t waver. My mouth went dry.
“I said, show me.”
My legs shook as I turned slightly, arms falling away from my body. The air kissed every inch of me.
He watched me like I was something to be studied. Or claimed.
“Damn,” he said softly. “Didn’t know you were this desperate.”
I bit my lip, heart pounding so hard it almost hurt.
“I have your clothes,” he paused as if thinking what to do next “and I have so many questions. But right now, you’re gonna do what I say.”
I nodded without thinking.
I don’t know how long we stood there—me, completely bare and trembling in the dark, and Damien, fully clothed, casual, holding my underwear like it was some kind of trophy.
Then he stepped closer.
“Bend over,” he said.
The words hit me like a slap. Sharp, unreal. But my body moved before I could think. I turned, chest tightening, and bent forward slightly, hands braced on my thighs. Shame prickled up my spine.
“Lower,” he said. “Like you mean it.”
I bent more, feeling the air between my cheeks as they spread, exposing places that should never be this exposed—especially not to him.
“Oh my god,” he said, voice half-laugh, half-command. “You’re actually doing it. Out here. For me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t know what was worse—the thrill of being seen or the ache of wanting to be used. He was just kidding, I thought but when I started to stand, he stepped closer and gave me a shove.
“Spread.”
I reached back and spread my cheeks moving my legs apart. Surrendering to him. He circled me, and I felt his eyes drag over every inch of me.
“Arch your back. Yeah. Just like that.”
I was a mess—shaking, flushed, leaking adrenaline and something darker, needier.
“You ever done this before?” he asked as he stepped behind me. His voice was low, intimate. “Begged some stranger to strip you, humiliate you, make you their little toy?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My throat was tight. He didn’t wait for an answer. I heard his belt followed by the zipper of his jeans.
“Look at you,” he said, voice almost mocking now. “Completely exposed. For me. Your best friend. The guy you thought would never know.”
I whimpered.
“And now,” he said, “you’re going to thank me for finding you like this.” I heard him spit and felt as it dripped between my cheeks. He used his finger to push it inside me and lube me up. I startled when his finger went in. Then I felt the pressure of his dick.
“Lower” came the command and I arched my back more lifting my hole to make it easier to access. I felt the head go in. Then he pushed himself inside me and I started to buck. His hands grabbed me by the hips and held me fast. I gasped. He was huge. It felt like he was going to split me in half. I had to bite down hard to keep from crying out.
“Don’t fight me.” he said and I settled down. Then, almost without thinking, I felt myself push back onto his dick.
In a few thrusts I heard him moan his release and felt his dick pumping his load into me. He pushed deeper, I felt his balls bump against me. His hands on my hips holding me close. Then just as suddenly he pulled out and stepped back, using my underwear to wipe off his dick dropping them on the ground when he was done. He tucked himself back in and zipped up.
My lips parted, but I didn’t know what I was saying until it spilled out:
“Thank you, Damien.”
“For what?”
“For… finding me.”
He stood, and stared a moment. I didn’t dare turn around.
“You're not going back to hiding after this,” he said. “Not when you’ve shown me what you really are. Now put your clothes back on and follow me home. You’ve given me a lot to think about, Steve.”
“You could just forget about it. It’d be our little secret.”
“I could.” He strode off, leaving me to get dressed as best as I could and make my way back to our apartment.
And somehow, even through the burn of humiliation, I felt... weightless.
I didn't have to hide anymore. I wasn't allowed to hide anymore.
