a boy's tale....
submitted by boy lobo on meeting Sir for the first time His salt and pepper hair gave him an air of wisdom and knowledge that...comes with both age and experience. He was not mean but rather kind. The way a professor is and very unlike any counselor, he never spoke down to, condescended one’s views or thoughts on any subject. He simply heard, pondered, and then after what seemed as if he had processed all the information gave his thoughts on the subject. “I’ll get the gag.” He said and he did. He put on with the ease that comes from that experience I mentioned. I never had been tied up before, well I had but not by a man and not for the purpose of photos. It was sort of fun. Well fun for me and anyone who likes to be in a different situation. He had tied the ropes with such an artistic flair that they emphasized the little muscles I have. I wasn’t nervous being tied up. Sure he was a stranger to me but I felt comfortable. Sure I was tied up, but he was a master and lived in a great area of town and white, like most serial killers are and wait…. Perhaps I should start at the beginning. I surfed the internet to see what sort of weirdoes were out there. People like me who were, are interested in extra curricula activities. Then I stumbled upon a name, a profile, a handsome photo accompanied by other dark twisted photos of men captured, tied up, forced into positions both natural and unnatural. I loved it; I had to meet him. We chatted. It was a ramble and I felt that he could be trusted as much as any stranger out there could be. So I went over. The place was like nothing I imagined. It was clean, bright, happy, and no signs of where this dark fantasy room I saw photos of could possibly be. Then he took me into the other room. The room I had seen in photos. This room was dark, mirrors everywhere, contraptions that must have held many men and boys and offered no escaped. I felt a sudden rush of fear and excitement wash over me and imagined if this was too much. Had I made a mistake by coming here? Was I never to be heard of again? We talked as he sat me down and talked about my first time with a guy. How confused the whole experience ha made me. Then I realized I ad been tied up. I was stuck to this table. When had I lied down? Was I drugged? No I had lied on this table removed some of my clothes. I was tied by ropes that where now holding me down, preventing my escape. I noticed all the toys…. Toys? More like thing that can be shoved into the anus. Things that can make your hands, legs, eyes, ears, mouth useless. The gag was bothersome. I felt as if I was choking, but I knew I wasn’t. I felt my underwear being slightly removed, letting my organ be visible but I could not see what was going on because the blindfold was now over my eyes. I felt his rugged hands rub over my body. I was at his mercy. I could not shout and if I had who would here my muffle screams. Ah! Pleasure filled my body. My penis was full of blood and something was pleasuring it. Not a hand but some sort of machine. He was doing it. He teased it, made me want whatever it was on me again when he removed it. My groin begged for it, pleaded for it. What seemed like years of repression suddenly vanished. I suddenly felt as if there were others out there who had lain here or somewhere like here. They had been at his mercy. He had given them pleasure, but most importantly chooses when to give them pleasure. As I burst and le out moans I suddenly didn’t feel like a freak, alone, or as if I was ever these things. He removed the blindfold and I saw the room, the world, myself as if it was new and full of possibilities. “Thank you Sir!” I said.
