I am naked and waiting, fidgeting, hard as a rock, when there is a knock on the front door. Naked, except for the plug in my asshole, the ring around my cock and balls, and the collar and cuffs He has directed me to wear. Black leather wrist and ankle cuffs with shiny metal rings and rivets. Fastened tightly and held in place by small brass locks. The collar is 2 inches thick, and has a single large D-ring at my throat. The plug is jelly, it is 5 inches long, and is lodged deep inside my ass. My asshole is stretched into an "O" around it, being held open. And my cock is evidence of the stimulation. The plug was the first toy I had bought, too big at first. Now it is thick and long enough that I cannot forget it is inside me. Today is the first day that someone else will know that I am wearing it. The thought is wicked and terrifying. The first time someone will fuck me...
I have been playing with my asshole in secret all of my life. Fingers, pencils and hairbrush handles when I was a boy. Screwdriver handles and fingers as a teenager. A small vibrator a new girlfriend brought into bed one night. I never had an 'opportunity' that I recognized to act on those feelings, with another boy. I was always too busy playing sports or running around with girls. But recently, I have begun to fantasize about it. More and more, I have been thinking about what it would be like to suck another guy's dick, or to even get fucked.
There's a website I came across, a membership site for guys to meet and have sex. I bought a membership, and posted an ad. And for the next few months, I've been tweaking my profile, exploring my desires, figuring out what I was looking for. I was looking for a mature and masculine man, someone too old for games, but old enough to appreciate my youth. I wanted to be lusted after, but I also wanted to be respected and appreciated. I didn't want to just meet some douchebag in a bar. I wanted a strong, masculine, decent man, with a nice thick cock.
When I hear that knock, my heart lurches. Partly in fear - or is it terror? - and partly in excited anticipation. This is it, the final chance to escape. This is the threshold of my new life, and the culmination of my old one.
I could look through the peephole to make sure it's not someone else. Or I could cover myself, and then answer the door. Or peek around the door jamb. I could call through the door - 'hey, sorry, but I've changed my mind!' Or I could just hide, and wait for whoever it is to become discouraged, walk away.
But i don't do any of those things. i move before i can change my mind.
My vision narrows and i see my hand on the lock, twisting it, then on the doorknob. i lower my head. My wrist turns and i pull the handle towards me, then i can feel the cool air on my thighs as the door opens. i can see the light on my bare feet. And the cuffs on my ankles. The little padlocks are shining in the daylight. Above my feet, I can see my erect penis. It is rock hard in anticipation, the blood trapped by the ring. It bounces with my heartbeat, and the hardness embarrasses me. I feel faint, only moments from ejaculation.
When i look up, He is looking at me. It seems very bright around Him. He is wearing a blue suit, with a button-down-collared shirt, and a red tie. As i look into his face, i can feel a breeze through the door, it chills my skin. My face feels flushed, my nipples feel taught. But i try to stand up proud of my commitment, my faith.
We do not speak. In the living room, i am on my knees in front of him. I am sitting on my haunches, my head bowed. After a few moments, i look up at Him. He gives me a nod, beckons me to Him. i try not to lose my self-control, and move to him too quickly. Instead, I shuffle forward, my hands cross the distance between us deliberately, and i begin by untying his shoes. They are expensive wingtips in black leather. They are shiny, and the laces are waxed. i untie them both, then lift his feet out of his shoes. i take off his socks, too, they are musty and warm but his feet are clean. i raise my head to his belt, at my eye level, and i unbuckle it. His suit pants have a slide clasp at the top, and then the zipper. i can feel his cock through the wool, against the heel of my hand, and as i pull his zipper down i slide my palm and fingers against it, softly. He is semi-erect, and deliciously thick. He chuckles because He knows what i am doing. He knows. i hold the cuffs and side of the legs and help him step out of the pants.
Now His white cotton boxers. His penis bobs as it is released. i try not to stare, to even look. but i can see it out of the corner of my eye. i can smell his scent.
His underwear gone, i move my hands onto the outsides of his thighs, and feel the hair and the skin. i lean my face forward, and press my cheek against his leg, i am smelling Him and feeling Him and adoring looking at his cock from so close. He is starting to thicken, to raise up. He is anticipating the pleasure i will soon be giving Him.
It's right that i am naked to worship Him. In my nakedness, i am vulnerable, and exposed to Him. In my nakedness i am offering myself to Him without condition. In my nakedness i am innocent.
My collar and cuffs are for Him. They symbolize His control over me, my supplication to His convenience and satisfaction. In black grasping leather and hard unflinching metal, they wordlessly state their superiority over my flesh, just as i am accepting another man's superiority over my soul. It is easier for Him to hold me with them, to place me as He wishes. To limit what I might experience, to solely His wishing. I am submitting through them and in them.
