2023 rolled around, and I was now a 30 year old man focused on my career and intent on trying to maintain the physique of my youth. My hustling life now put to bed, I joined the masses of straight guys trying to hook up with straight girls at bars and clubs up and down the UK on the weekends. When you think about it, the stars really have to align if you are a guy trying to pull a chick. You need to see someone you fancy (allowing for beer goggles), they need to fancy you in return (relying on chablis goggles), and they need to be up for a one night stand, which of course might not be the case. I got my share of fun, don't get me wrong, but plenty of nights ended in frustrated disappointment and blue balls. That was when I'd bid my mates good night and slope off home via the nearest gay sauna to take advantage of being bisexual and get my rocks off the other way.
By the way, in late January I treated myself to tattoo number 13 on my right bicep. They are all relatively small pieces, so I defintely show off way more bare skin than inked, but I did wonder when I was going to stop. As it happens, that was my last one to date, though I don't rule out getting more. I don't want anything above the collarbones, or below the wrists or ankles. Personally I want to avoid stomach tatts because one day I will inevitably end up with a dad bod and I don't want stretched belly ink. And I quite like my butt being cleanskinned so that is off limits too. I've managed to avoid getting any drunken holiday tatts but hopefully if I find myself in that situation, I'll remember "NOT ON THE BUM!!!!!"
****
I'd enjoyed a fair bit of rough, raunchy sex in my time, and I also got off on BDSM-themed porn, even though I had no real experience of it. Those of you who've read "Dude's gotta pay his debts" will know that BDSM features heavily in that extended fantasy series, but not all of the inspiration behind the scenes came from porn, some came from real life. Having been a sex worker on and off for about twelve years, the last five plus in London, I knew the city hosted quite a few professional gay Masters. I got in touch with a couple of sex workers I knew and trusted and got a couple of recommendations, and eventually found a pro I liked the look of, "Master Felix". He was English, and atypical in that he was quite young (33), gym-built with a smooth shaved body and without any ink. His face was blurred in his pictures, and though I did prefer hairy guys and liked a bit of ink, he'd come recommended. It was over 700 quid for three hours but I was really keen to try it and he looked sound. I made contact by email and he asked me what I wanted to try, my experience levels, my preferences and so on. He gave me time-limited access to his media library, which was a massive collection of photos and short clips of him working on his punters, all of whom were masked or hooded, so I got a good sense of what he was offering. He asked me if I'd like photos and clips taken for his collection in exchange for a 10% discount, and I agreed on the understanding that I be masked like all of the other clients in his media library. I knew my tatts were distinguishing features, but the chances of anyone I wasn't fucking anyway coming across master Felix's site, preusing his invitation-only media library, and recognising me by my ink, were remote. Then I confirmed the booking.
It was a Friday night after work, and I was so nervous when I rang the bell of his place in Paddington. I felt like I imagine many of my punters had felt when they came to see me for the first time, and under my suit jacket I could feel my shirt's pits were soaked through. He answered the door in khaki military surplus camo trousers, barefoot, with a grey hoodie, clean shaven, and I was pleased to see he was quite handsome with short cropped brown hair. He greeted me with a friendly air and led me into his bright, modern apartment. I'd already paid him by PayPal so nothing needed to change hands, and he offered me a glass of water as we sat, chatted, and he calmly explained more about how the session would progress, safe words and all that.
Then, once I agreed I was ready, he ordered me to strip. I stood up, slipped off my jacket and tie, undid a few buttons on my shirt then moved to unlace my shoes and remove them along with my socks. I then took off my shirt and trousers and, finally, my briefs - my hard cock sprang up and slapped my fuzzy abs, flicking a string of cocksnot into the air. I folded and draped my kit neatly over the arm of the chair, and Master Felix made appreciative comments about my body as I turned around for him. From the media on his site, most of his clients were older guys, so I think he liked having a younger, gym-built mare to breed for a change.
He stood up, approached me and carefully removed the silver chain and pendant from around my neck, putting it carefully with my clothes. He tugged off his hoodie, revealing a bare, smooth muscular chest enhanced with a black leather harness, then led me through to the bathroom. He had me bend over in the shower and spread my cheeks while he lubed a douche shower attachment and slowly worked it into my ass (something I'd requested because I was coming straight from work, and though I'd emptied my guts, I wanted to be squeaky clean so I could properly relax). A few doses of warm water later and he judged me clean. He dried me off with a fluffy white towel and led me to his playroom, which was a generous chamber lined with a dizzying array of equipment.
I stood to attention while he fitted me with a padlocked leather collar, a lycra hood with mouth and eye holes, and a black rubber ball gag. He lubed up my still-hard cock and swollen shaved balls and worked a chunky silicone cock ring and ball stretcher onto my junk. Pulling a mask on over his own face, he started by fastening me by my wrists and ankles, spreadeagled, to a steel frame, and proceeded to take some snaps and clips with his iPhone. Propping his iPhone up to capture some more footage, he started to flog my back, ass and legs with a cat-o-nine-tails, not hard because I wasn't into pain, but enough to get me sensitised and in the mood. He then proceeded to flog my chest and thighs for a bit before tapping my butt, cock and balls lightly with a riding crop. Eventually, releasing my arms from the frame, he bent me over at the waist and refastened my arms to the frame behind me at an angle that prevented me from straightening up. He then stripped off his camo pants so he was totally naked apart from the lycra bally and leather chest harness (the stereoypical leather gear didn't do anything for me, and in lots of his pix and vids he was playing totally naked, so I had told him that was my preference). He relieved me of my ball gag and spent a while facefucking me with his long, thick, hairless cock, taking POV shots and clips with his phone, and taking an occasional break to paddle my ass and tease my anus with a spit-wet fingertip.
The examination chair came next, my arms strapped by the wrists up and behind my head, my feet placed in stirrups and strapped in place by the ankles, and a ball gag and nipple clamps fitted. After taking some more photos, he held a poppers bottle under my nose and dosed me, then began to gently tickle my wet hairy armpits. Instantly, I began to squirm and laugh through the gag, but my body was stretched so taut that I could barely move. I screamed with laughter as Master Felix methodically worked my pits, ribs, nipples and belly button with his fingers and I broke out in a heavy full-body sweat, slickening my hairy muscles with slippery salty grease and heightening the insidious torture even further. He proceded to tickle my groin and the creases between my balls and thighs; After he'd run his fingertips gently up the underside of my taint, hard tool and squirming testicles for a few minutes, Master Felix selected a steel instrument with a spiked pinwheel which he then applied to all of my ticklish erogenous zones above my thighs once more. His last torture implement of choice was an electric toothbrush which was especially "effective" on my nipples, deep in my navel, and on my cocksnot-sticky frenulum.
There was a break while my gag was removed and I was allowed to sip water from a sports bottle, then it was refitted and Master Felix positioned a stool down at my feet. He liberally applied baby oil to my bare feet, and set to work with his fingers and then the pinwheel, making me scream. After the electric toothbrush, the foot torture was completed with the bristles of a plastic hairbush agressively applied to my soles while I laughed, screamed and cried. Then he began to use his implements again, in order, on my inner thighs, my balls, my slick taint, and my pulsing, winking asshole, forcing exhausted laughing screams from deep inside me.
As my laughs faded to whimpers, Master Felix tugged on a black latex glove and squirted some lube onto his fingers, sliding first one, then two fingers up into my tunnel and friging my prostate for a while. He then stood and began strapping electrodes to my thighs before applying blue conductive jelly to a steel plug with a wire running from it; my excitement rose as he gently eased the e-stim plug into my cunt. Powerful fucking sensations began to pulse though my abdomen as he turned on the current, then Master Felix inserted my painfully-hard cock into the well-lubricated sleeve of a masturbation toy. He ramped up the current and the toy's milking rhythm over the next 10 minutes until I erupted in a powerful orgasm, my cum splattering my hairy, sweat-slick torso and drooling down into my pubes. Leaving the masturbation sleeve fitted but reducing its action to a teasing rhythm that was torture on my highly-sensitised post-cum cock, Master Felix powered down the e-stim electrodes and buttplug before removing them entirely. Resuming his seat on the stool, he then lubricated a speculum which he carefully inserted in my anus and slowly cranked open, drawing more moans from me as my sphincter was stretched wide; he leaned in to take a series of photos and clips of the inside of my ass.
Removing the medical instrument from my hole, Master Felix's next move was to unfasten me and lay me on my back on the floor. My arms were stretched out straight behind my head and spread wide, and tied to a horizontal crossbar bolted to the wall (my head rested on it too, cushioned by a folded towel), then he took my feet, spread my legs out straight and wide, and tied them to the bar as well. I'd never been super-flexible and this position was a strain - it was almost like doing the splits. I put up a bit of a struggle and made some angry moaning sounds around my gag as he spent ages taking long, lingering shots of me. He then spent a long time sensually feeling up every part of my body, caressing my face affectionately, tugging on my nipple clamps, and frigginng my anus. My asscheeks had never been so spread and I moaned as Master Felix played with me and then removed the ballgag so he could facefuck me some more.
We took a break and I was released, watered and re-positioned. This time I was tied up, my arms behind my back, velcro straps binding my neck, chest, arms, and my ankles taped together with bondage tape. Master Felix put me on my front and alternated stroking and kissing my back, neck, hands, ass and feet, with a steady round of ass-spanking with a leather paddle. A thick vibrator was pushed up my cunt and set to work as I was rolled onto my back, my arms awkwardly trapped behind me, and he started to expertly stroke my re-hardened cock with a lubricated fist. His edging skills were incredible though, as he skilfully held off, tapping my balls or swatting my ass to hold me back if needed. Soon I was begging to cum, my incoherent babbling emerging from behind my gag along with a steady flow of drool. But he denied me.
Then I was strapped on all fours to a sturdy fuck bench, straps over my back pulled tight while my arms and legs were bound in position. My head was raised and held in place with a chin rest while my rigid cock was pressed hard against the edge of the bench to keep it pushing down towards the floor. The head of a dildo was eased into my asshole and a mechanical whirring started up as the large machine-mounted dong started to fuck me hard. After a few minutes of that, Master Felix fed me his cock so I was being spitroasted by man and machine. Eventually he went back behind me, and I felt him milk my cock to a shuddering orgasm.
I was released and pushed to my knees, made to drink my own seed from the cup into which I'd shot it, then Master Felix wanked a load out over my lycra-masked face and open mouth before leading me to his bathroom to receive his fragrant urine in my both my gob and over my body in his bathtub. He then removed the hood, rinsed me off with the handheld shower attachment, dried me tenderly with a towel and led me back to his living room where we lounged naked and drank tea to decompress. A couple of days later, he sent me a link so I could check out the hot pictures and video clips of my experience.
****
Needless to say, I'd loved every minute of it, and six weeks later I was booked in for another session to try the vacuum bed: as the air was sucked out of the thick rubber membrane, I was paralysed, blind and breathing through a hose as my cock and balls were relentlessly stimulated and edged until I splattered the thick back rubber with cum.
Later, once I was released, I got to enjoy licking Master Felix's tight smooth manhole as he sat above me on a rimming stool and lent forward to play with my aching tool.
He trussed me in a straightjacket, sat me on a bondage chair, and spent ages playing with my hard cock and fucking my mouth as a fuck machine pumped up into me from under the seat.
He locked my wrists and ankles in stocks suspended from the ceiling, so I lay on my back with my arms and feet pulled up into the air as he ticked my bare feet mercilessly.
And yes, I finally got to enjoy his raw cock up my cunt as I lay back in a sling.
****
I had been building up a desire to try getting fisted. I'd done loads of internet research to reasure myself that taking the fist wouldn't ruin my asshole for life, and I had reached the point where I trusted Master Felix and his skills enough, so I got in the sling again for my third session. Master Felix strapped me in and played with my body for a long time, taking extra time to offer me poppers as he fingered open my anus with one, two and then three latex-gloved fingers. Then he doused a wad of cotton wool in poppers from a bottle, putting the sodden pad in a canister which he then screwed to an old-school gas mask. Removing the gag from my straining mouth, he fitted the gas mask over my head and the powerful wave of popper fumes washed over me.
Though the dirty lenses I saw him retrieve a bottle of thick, gloopy J-Lube as he sat back down on his stool between my legs; he wiped stringy gobs of the veterinary lubricant on my ass and on a generously-sized black dong, then put its head against my hole and bore down on it insistently until it popped past my ring. I cried out at the intrusion, but fought to flare my ass ring open as I took deep hits of poppers; soon, the dildo was sliding up into my guts, in and out, more and more easily, and the discomfort faded away completely and was replaced with pleasure.
Master Felix then put that dildo to one side, and replaced it with his own, generously-proportioned cock. He probed and fucked my cunt with his cock for a while, before slathering a healthy fistful of J-Lube on his gloved hands and wrists, and easily slid the four bunched fingers of one hand into my ass. In and out he moved them as the poppers continued to do their work on me, before tucking his thumb in and easing his hand in up to the knuckles, twisting it slowly around and making me moan with lust. I moved my pelvis up and down to signal my enthusiam as I breathed deepy. With a last application of pressure, his hand slid forward and my stretched ring closed around his slippery wrist. He kept it there for a few minutes, letting me adjust, barely moving except to rotate slowly and gently caress my rectum and prostate. He eased all the way out, slathered on copious amounts of additional stringy J-Lube, then eased his hand all the way back in again. This time, once inside me, he closed his fingers into a fist and started to make shallow fucking motions. By maddeningly slow increments, Master Felix began to fist-fuck me harder and faster, his fist moving further and further inside me but also pulling back against my straining ring until he finally popped all the way out on the outstroke before punching back in again until finally I was wracked with a crippling full-body anal orgasm every bit as powerful as those I'd previously only had with Patryk. My cock, which had remained soft and limp the whole time, pumped out a massive load of thick pearly scum onto my hairy abs.
Master Felix eased his fist out so I could recover, starting a deep, firm massage of the outside of my asshole. To my surprise, he leaned in and began to lick, suck and probe my stretched anus with his horny tongue before aiming his cock at it and wanking himself vigorously until he splattered my dripping sphincter with his virile seed. Finally, he spent a few minutes massaging his cum into my pussy as the abused muscles begain to slowly recover their condition.
****
I've been fisted exactly twice in my life; having quickly and fully recovered with no ill effects from the first time (I'd done my research and trusted Master Felix's skill so I hadn't really expected any issues), I asked him to do it again a couple of sessions later. This time he restrained my cock in a generously-roomy chastity cage while he fucked me in the sling. When I was nice and open, he withdraw, and I felt the sensation of gloopy lube being slapped on my trench and slippery gloved fingers starting to probe and stretch my hole again, and I moaned in anticipation as he gradually, masterfully opened me up and his hand finally slid forward into my rectum, my straining ring clamping down on his wrist. He knew how to edge me anally, stimulating my prostate without triggering my orgasm, and after an increasingly hard fist-fuck deep into my guts he made my caged cock piss everywhere. My curiosity satisfied, I haven't been fisted again since, but never say never.
****
What was that? "A couple of sessions later?" I hear you ask? Yes, because I saw Master Felix five times in 2023. He knows what buttons to push and what boundaries to test and I've had amazing experiences with him, sometimes almost transcendent ones. By the end of 2024, I'd had eight sessions with him and spent thousands, but I can afford it and it has been so worth it. As I write this in June 2025, I haven't seen him again, but I think about it loads.
As promised, this is a true account of my experiences as I remember them. I'd love to hear what you think of it, so email me if you want at [email protected]
