I had this experience happening to me a few years ago. It changed me for good. It was both terrifying and nice (in a weird way).
It was my first sexual encounter with a man. And it was my first time being thoroughly dominated and humiliated by an older gay man.
This is what happened:
It was fall, mid october I think, and I had just turned 21 years old. Back then I went to college. Although I enjoyed staying in shape I was never into college sports. So rather than spending the weekends at campus we'd rather go, a group of friends and I, to attend different music festivals around the country.
I was, and still am, a white male, 6'3, and around 180 lbs. Lean, but somewhat muscular from casually lifting weights in my spare time. People on campus used to ask me if I'd ever tried out for the basket ball team, but I don't have the necessary athleticism. Just the frame.
Anyways, this one time we had found a country music festival where several bands we loved were playing. So it seemed like a nice thing to do for the weekend.
Because of the budget we always traveled light. Usually in a van together. And we slept in tents. Everyone brought their own mini tents and we usually slept in the festival camp. You know, the sort of RV/tent villages that is organized by the festivals.
Back then I always wore the same thing. I had probably five marginally different blue jeans. All of them from the manufacturer Lee. They were pretty much skintight. I had long, lean legs with some muscularity. And I felt kind of hot in those jeans. So why the f shouldn't I where them every day. I mostly wore black or white t shirts, and if it was cold, some type of varsity or bomber jacket. Again. With the varsity jacket people often took me for a jock. Also, every year I bought a pair of converse chucks hi tops in white. I love that shoe. Back then I always made sure to tuck my jeans into the chucks, using rubber bands around my ankles, so that the chucks would be as visible as possible.
Tbh I think Iooked hot. And I kinda felt it. I had no trouble getting attention from girls. They usually complimented my legs and ass, which might not be what most men are going for, but heck. I got laid. And plenty of it.
I digress.
We arrived at this country music festival friday morning. It was quite cold, I remember. In the van we had only brought with us some large kegs of beer, our tents, some foldable camping chairs and the clothes we were wearing. It was me and two other friends. All guys, and all ready for a good time. Although we brought along tents the goal was always to find some pretty women with a hotel room. It was kind of a game we had. Get laid, but in the nicest hotel room possible.
We put up our tents in the camp. It was a big festival so the camp was very crowded. Mostly by RVs and all kinds of motor homes. Some quite big with tents outside the RVs etc. The festival had been going since tuesday already so a lot of people had been here for days already.
Although it was quite cold outside we put up our chairs around what seemed like a gathering point in the camp, and we started drinking.
Within minutes a group of girls caught our attention. We asked them to join us. Eventually more people came out to join. Some brought tables and heating lamps. And someone even brought a full sound system. It was kinda nice tbh. It was like a mini mini burning man going on. There were people of all ages there, but probably more older people than young. We were definitely one of the younger groups in the camp. But it was fun. We didn't care. We were there for the music, and also it could be fun to meet older women.
An older guy, I would guess he'd be in his fifties, sat down next to me. I was always open to talking to most people so I didn't tell him to f off. He introduced himself as Sarge. I thought it was a strange name, but he explained that he was a veteran. And that he'd carried that name ever since the Iraq war in the 90s. Sarge was a stocky built man. You could kinda see that he was a military man. He was quite a bit shorter than me, maybe 5'9, but he had a much stockier build. Like thick forearms etc. He looked like he used to wrestle in college to say the least.
Clothing wise he looked like your typical 50 year old country music enthusiast. Basically dressed as a cowboy. Jeans, a shirt, a hat, and a pair of nice looking cowboy boots. He had a scar on his cheek, I remember. So he looked like someone who had led a rough life.
I remember him asking if I had served in the military. I hadn't. Then he started lecturing me about how or generation was weak and lazy. I didn't have anything better to do so I talked back. It went down something like this:
Me: "If it's weak not being a war monger. I guess I'm weak. You went to Iraq. How'd you feel that worked out for us?"
Sarge: "This proves my point. You have no idea what you're talking about. You don't know what it means to sacrifice yourself for something bigger than yourself."
Me: "Ye, because what's more sacred than killing civilians in the middle east?"
Sarge: "You're starting to get on my nerves, boy."
Me: "Well, you don't have to sit here.."
Then he took his large paw of a hand and grabbed my thigh. And he squeezed hard. I grabbed his hand trying to get him to let go. It hurt. Before I was able to say anything he leaned in close and said: "You better learn some respect, boy. Learn how to address someone older, wiser and stronger than yourself."
And he left. I could see him go join an older group sitting on the other side of the gathering point.
"What a strange and sad man", I thought.
I didn't think more of it and joined my friends talking with the girls from earlier. The girls were probably in their thirties, but it was fun. They had a huge RV in the camp. Maybe not a five star hotel, but better than my tent for sure. So I knew what my frends were doing; flirting to get a good night of sleep. I jumped on that project. One of the girls caught my eye. A brunette. She was from somewhere in the south. Goodlooking. She worked as a nurse and loved country music. According to her, going to this festival was something they had done for years. It was kind of their yearly thing. Out of the group, some had husbands at home, but she was single. Bingo.
I also remember she wore the nicest pair of leather pants I'd seen in my life. She was hot.
After a couple of hours the concerts were about to start. People started leaving the camp to go to the festival area. We packed up as well.
I hadn't even put up my tent although I knew it was going to be a mess doing in the middle of the night, if I didn't get lucky with the girl from the south of course.
It was really cold and the concerts were outside. So I put on my bomber jacket and put a pair of leather gloves and a light weight scarf in my pocket in case it got even colder later in the night..
Then we walked with the girls to the festival area.
We watched the first songs of, I think it was, Rascall Flatts. Love that band. But that was when my night of terror slowly started.
As we stood there watching, all of a sudden I felt a hand on my ass. Or actually inside the left back pocket of my tight jeans. I turned around and it was Sarge.
Then he said quite politely: "One beer, please."
"What?", I replied.
And while turning I checked my back pocket. In it he'd placed three 50$ bills.
I looked at my friends. They hadn't even noticed any of this. They were busy with the show.
"I'm not sure what you want, man. Why you give me these?", I continued.
"It's so you can buy me a beer, boy." he explained with a calm voice. "And you can buy something for yourself as well. I'll treat you good."
"I won't buy you a beer. Go to the bar yourself!" I answered back quite annoyed of the whole situation.
Who did this guy think he was? Did he think that I was some kind of server at this thing?
"Cman, boy. I've already given you the money. Go be a good boy for a tired old veteran."
I contemplated it for a second. I was going to buy me something anyway, and he was offering to pay for my beer as well. Maybe it wasn't that bad. I just didn't like the way he'd approached me. It felt kinda degrading, but getting a free beer was nice. Especially with the prices inside the festival area.
"Ok. I'll buy you one beer, but you'll buy one for me as well, right?" I gave in.
