Justin leaned back and reflected on the message he had just received on his computer. The screen displayed an image from a site- a hardcore website specializing in BDSM, femdom and TS - showing a young woman naked, bent over and elaborately tied up. She wore a ball gag in her delicate mouth, clothespins on her nipples, and a large dildo was wedged into her anus. Nevertheless, her overall expression was one of ecstatic submission.
Justin gently stroked the front of his slacks; the images on the website had rendered him semi-tumescent, and a pleasant thrill suffused his groin. He was an attractive young man, albeit with feminine features: large dark eyes, flawless skin, a shapely mouth and slender, well proportioned limbs. Both women and men were attracted to him; though shy, he had had a number of experiences with the former, since his delicate good looks and unassuming attitude often brought him offers of oral and other sex. Assertive, aggressive females frightened him somewhat; and he didn't care for stridently gay young men of his own age. But what might come of the message he had been sent?
The truth was that his true, secret sexual predilections ran to a submissive, near masochistic inclination. He enjoyed watching video of spanking and whipping, especially of young, attractive women. But he was far from imagining himself as the person wielding the whip or cane. Rather, it was the role of the victim that he aspired to; he was the helplessly bound, naked recipient, and it was he who cried out as the instrument of chastisement cracked across soft, trembling flesh, and the stripes sprang up on tender skin.
The thought of being tightly bound and at the mercy of a remorseless master or mistress excited him; to be gagged and blindfolded, unable to stop the succession of stripes , to be fucked in the mouth and ass, forced to swallow and serve...this was his pinnacle of desire. And after several years of imagining himself in such situations, by pressing Send he made them a potential reality.
He had responded to a profile on the website, sending his vital statistics and a photograph, and expressing his interest in corresponding with the self=described dominant male; while he found female flesh more attractive, the idea of submitting to a strong, forceful, mature man sent a quiver through his deepest parts. Was he actually going to follow through with this tentative reaching out? Very possibly not. Yet he felt a thrill of excitement.
The man in the photo greatly resembled the imagined master of his sexual fantasies. His name was Ben and he was in his early forties, strong and tall, a fit outdoors type. Yet his features were refined, and he wrote articulately with a degree of sensitivity. He had been involved in the BDSM scene as a top for some years; now he lived a couple of hundred miles from Justin in a remote part of the state. Rather than appearing to be in need of a quick encounter, he seemed genuinely interested in Justin, his thoughts and desires. As they corresponded, he successfully put into words many of the feelings that Justin had struggled with for some time; Justin's particular kink was, it appeared, not unknown. Without sounding crude or coarse, Ben made it clear that he understood what was motivating Justin; and also conveyed his willingness and ability to partner successfully. He suggested that Justin pay him a visit.
As they corresponded, the older man's forceful, yet oddly charming personality began to assert itself on the sensitive young man .Justin found himself opening up to him about his secret feelings and describing some of his fantasies. The other listened gravely; his occasional comments confirmed his familiarity with the young man's kinks, and began to weave a fatal fascination. Ben was an excellent listener, so that Justin began to feel guided into a relationship the prospect of which filled him with excitement. He became increasingly open to Ben's insights and recommendations. Was he a helpless fish hooked on a line? Perhaps so, he thought, but wasn't that the feeling he had yearned for?
He accepted the invitation. It might be risky; but it could be most rewarding.
Yet he was filled with trepidation as he drove along the quiet country roads that led to the house of assignation. The two had communicated enough to where the actual visit appeared (most likely) not threatening ; though the scent of possible danger added a piquancy to the journey. Thoughts of finding they had nothing in common, that Ben was not simpatico but rather rough and crude, alternated with lubricious images of domination and servitude. Finally, as he drew near to his destination, he forced himself to put away his fears. Whatever would happen, would happen. The decision was liberating; he could now more fully submit to the role that had excited his imagination for the past several years.
He drove up to an old farmhouse in good repair, standing some hundreds of yards from the closest house, surrounded by tall oaks and greenery. "You made it! I'm glad. Please come in. Something to eat or drink? Long drive." Ben wore a plaid shirt and comfortable corduroy slacks. He was tall and lithe, with excellent features; a strong jaw and high cheekbones. He was an impressive figure, and charmed the nervous younger man.
The living room where they sipped wine was furnished with well used, good quality furniture, the walls hung with intriguing paintings and prints. They discussed their interests; both enjoyed travel, and Ben had visited Thailand and China, where Justin intended to go. They had some similar tastes in books, art and music; and Justin began to feel himself relaxing around this worldly, courteous, confident, well spoken older man. Yet he was conscious that he was evading the purpose of the visit, hesitant to commit himself. Equally aware of this, Ben put an end to the prevarication. "You and I know what brought you here. Would you like to stay, or would you prefer to go?"
Justin hesitated. But he had already made up his mind. "I'd like to stay."
"Good. Then we'll move into the upstairs rooms."
