I met him at a card show in San Antonio. We chatted while waiting in line, and he was very open and easy to talk to. He wasn't handsome: shaved head, about 40, short and stocky, with black horn rimmed glasses. He had been in the military. But though I am usually shy, I found myself opening up to him and conversing amicably. On the way out I saw him again: he smiled pleasantly and asked if I would like to come to his nearby home for a cup of coffee.
I've lived a quiet life thus far. I'm reserved by nature and at the age of 25 had had few relationships. Sexually: I'm inexperienced and not entirely sure about my inclinations. I have feminine features, a girlish bottom, large grey eyes, a slender waist, little body hair and that very fine. I've been approached by both males and females, but am generally too diffident to take matters further. The encounters I've had so far involved only some heavy petting, one time with a member of each sex, though I enjoyed both. But technically at least I'm still a virgin.
My instinct was to refuse his suggestion, but there was something appealing about his friendly manner, and against my better judgement I accepted the offer, adding only that I could not stay long. We strolled a few blocks and arrived at his house, a typical well kept Texas bungalow. I did notice that it stood alone on its block, with vacant spaces on either side.
We went inside the house; the living room was neat and well organized. He made some excellent coffee and we sat opposite each other on comfortable chairs talking about our lives and interests. That was when he told me that he was involved in BDSM, and asked if I would like to see what he called his dungeon.
Now, I have never experienced anything like that. But I must admit that the subject held some interest; I had had a magazine showing attractive young men and women bound naked in uncomfortable but arousing positions, while a masked Master prepared to chastise them with a variety of implements. I found this highly stimulating. So with some hesitation I agreed to his invitation, and followed his stocky figure down a hallway into what must once have been a garage.
It was a spacious area with a cathedral ceiling and no windows, painted a deep red. The floor was made of stone flags, and the walls held some large mirrors, several erotic paintings of s&m activities, and racks from which dangled a variety of striking implements. There were two short whips, a number of wooden or leather paddles, and an umbrella stand filled with lithe bamboo canes. Another rack held leather gags and hoods, handcuffs and a variety of cords and straps.
I was certainly taken aback to find such an installation in a quiet Texas neighborhood, and quite apprehensive that I could be in some kind of danger. After all, I'm a slender, not very sturdy young man who could easily be overpowered by my sturdily built host. But he was absolutely relaxed, friendly and communicative, and clearly proud of his "dungeon". He showed me his leather horse: reminiscent of high school gym, except that it had knee and elbow supports and a plethora of D-rings.
There was a wooden X-shaped cross, similarly decorated, and chains and shackles hung from the ceiling. A wooden set of stocks was in the center of the room, and a metal cage with openings in the bars on either end rested on a thick post. Mike picked up a leather collar with rings on it. "This is what my subs put on when they are here for a session. Once they put it on, they give up their freedom and agree to submit to whatever their Master -- me! - sees fit to inflict on them."
"What are your favorite things to inflict?" I couldn't resist asking.
"That depends on the sub. I'm pretty good at telling what a sub really wants. Or doesn't want! Once they put on the collar, and are naked and secured...well, let's say that I like it to be a surprise. It will hurt, certainly. But for every pain there will be some pleasure."
Once I saw Mike made no move to interfere with or harm me -- that came later -- I relaxed and carefully examined the intriguing furniture. As I looked around I began to imagine myself naked and secured, helpless to defend myself from whippings and worse. I've always had a submissive, yielding personality, and the room held a strong appeal for me. Somewhat to my embarrassment, my cock swelled and created a bulge in my khakis. I quickly suggested we return to the living room, though not without my taking a longing look around the sinister but stimulating area.
This time we sat together on a comfortable couch. He told me a little about his involvement in BDSM; he had been active in that community for about ten years, where he was known as Captain Michael. He explained that he was a top, while his partners were usually bottoms. I was still very aware of the bulge in my pants, and looking down saw that he displayed a corresponding swelling. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it, and was not totally shocked when he gently took my slender hand and placed it over his clothes on his stiffening cock.
Guiding my suddenly clumsy fingers, he unzipped his pants and put my hand inside on his organ. It was thick and warm. Though I was taken greatly aback, I obediently released him from his underwear. His cock was stiff and sprang free as I rearranged him. It was large and beautiful, uncircumcised with a drop of precum already showing at the tip. I couldn't take my eyes off it and began to fondle it gently with three fingers. He gasped with pleasure and asked if I would take it in my mouth.
I was too shy to open my lips to him, but did give the tip a quick kiss. A moment later he erupted in orgasm, spraying a copious amount of come over my fingers and splashing my face. This was very exciting to me, and when he caressed my own stiff dick I unzipped my pants and let him take out my penis, smaller than his but fully erect. He skillfully caressed me and I came quickly and delightfully. He brought a warm facecloth to clean up with, and (relaxed now) we sat and drank more coffee and chatted amicably until it was time for me to return to New Braunfels.
