This is my fifth letter describing my expanding awareness from a naive man with a desire to suck a cock to a man willing to explore his seedier side.
(M+/M, oral, anal)
In my first letter "Costume in a Costume" I describe how I dressed as a girl in a Halloween costume to trick an unsuspecting man into letting me give him my first blow job.
In my second letter "Gloryhole Illustration" I describe how I accidentally discovered a glory hole and learned what they are used for.
In my third titled "Steely" I discover that there is a whole underground of men cruising for sex.
In my fourth letter "Zebulon" I tell you about a visit to an adult bookstore expecting to suck cock but getting more than I bargained for.
In this letter I tell you about how I use my experiences to explore my psyche and further define what I want in an MM relationship.
When I left the adult bookstore I had a lot of thinking to do. I went imagining I would suck some cock. As I have said before, I'm not gay but I am fascinated with cocks and I don't mind trading blowjobs. But the last time I hooked up with a guy several things changed. I had been dominated, fucked, double-teamed, treated like a sissy, and for me, worst of all, forced to interact with more of man's body than just his cock.
I reflected on the thoughts and feelings generated in me for several weeks. In the end, I arrived at several conclusions.
Why did I like being fucked? Maybe because being fucked is simply a physical sensation. My body reacted to pleasurable
feelings without regard for how they were generated.
Am I gay? Is this why I like serving men? No, I'm not gay. I am not equally attracted to men and women. I am only attracted to people with beautiful bodies, though I do have higher standards for men than for women. I don't like hairy, fat women any more than I like hairy, fat men. Men clearly have many more attributes (such as hairy armpits and beards) that make it easy to eliminate them from consideration as a lover. But as long as I can focus only on the aspects I appreciate, then I enjoy sex with either pretty women or handsome men. Given the choice of Tom Cruise or Rosie O'Donnell I would take Tom any day.
But why not just trade suck jobs? I guess as much as I tried to separate the act of cocksucking from the person, sex is always a part of a relationship.
Some men were more dynamic and forceful therefore able to create a relationship with me, even if it was just fucking my ass, dominant kind of relationship, when I otherwise might not have had anything to do with them.
I guess I included the more intense relationships in these letters in these letters because there was more emotional involvement than in the others. Even if the emotions were not always what I would want.
What is it about being forced to have sex and being submissive that turns me on? As I think about it being forced removes any personal responsibility on my part. As long as I am forced I can tell myself that I don't really choose to engage in same-sex behavior. But more important than that was that being forced let me loose control and experience the events however they happened to take place rather than trying to create them. If I had been in control over the last year I would never have experienced the things I did.
Lastly, I recognize in my fantasies some odd line of reasoning that if men have sex with me on their terms that they will like me. I think this goes back to my childhood when I wasn't very popular but some of my friendships consisted of being involved with a group of boys in regular circle jerks and sexual discovery.
The last piece of my psyche to uncover was the question of whether I was a sissy and what that meant. I think some of this question has already been answered but there seems to be more. I can't think of a reason that satisfies me as being the right answer.
That is why I have decided that to figure this puzzle out I need to indulge myself in this fantasy. When I submit to another as a complete submissive sissy I will have my answer.
Now the only conundrum I faced was how to become a sissy and submit? I had given this much thought. I knew I might be making a mistake but I went forward anyway.
I went back to the forest preserve to see my "friends" there. I asked around to see who might want to be a part of a relationship like that. Several guys told me that if I were brave enough I could find what I wanted from Steve.
Going back at the right time I looked for Steve who was suppose to drive a red jeep or Humvee. I found him the second day I looked.
Getting nervous I approached his car and struck up a conversation. Steve
struck me as an arrogant s.o.b. but after we talked a bit I steered the topic around a bit until he took the bait and invited me back to his house.
Steve lived in a huge two story Tudor which was intimidating in its size alone. We drove thru a set of large iron gates and entered into the foyer which was decorated in every way to make one feel small and insignificant.
Immediately after entering, Steve's demeanor changed. No longer just arrogant he was now bossy, rude, and demanding.
I started to think that I should just leave now as I really didn't enjoy being treated badly on a social level.
But I had to finish what I had started. Even if he treated my like crap I was told the sex would be good.
Steve turned to me and said "Strip!" That's it just one word. And it wasn't a request. Right there in the foyer I removed my clothes leaving them crumpled on the floor. I didn't know if anyone else was home. Would the maid come around the corner seeing me buck naked?
Steve beckoned with his finger and I followed him up the stairs as did two dobermans who appeared out of nowhere. Fear was building up to a high level now. I tried to shoo the dogs away from sniffing my ass but Steve just said to let them have their way and they would leave me alone - probably.
Steve led me to a master bedroom/bathroom where he instructed me to bathe, shave, and dress. He laid out some frilly clothes on the bed and left. His instructions were a bit vague but I had a general sense of what was expected. I looked over the clothes and that left little room for doubt in my mind. He had laid out a snow-white corset, matching thong panties, lacy garter, and nylons.
Now that I was alone (not even the dogs had stayed) I felt more comfortable. I took a bath cleaning everything that might conceivably need cleaning. I shaved everywhere a woman would shave and then a few more places for good measure.
When I was done I put on the sexy lingerie finding that it fit me perfectly. As soon as I was dressed his voice boomed over the intercom. He told me to go to the makeup table where I would find a wig and the other things I would need. It took me awhile to get it right and in the end I looked exactly like a sissy man in
woman's underclothes.
Steve came back in making tsk tsk sounds. He re-did my makeup until after an eternity he stood me up to look at his handiwork. He produced a digital camera and took photos of me in various poses.
Nothing I did was good enough for him and I was always being corrected. After what seemed like a great many pictures, he took the camera into the other room and came back without it shortly thereafter. Any thought I had of retrieving those pictures left with him.
After nearly an hour without words Steve spoke. "You are my slave and I am your master. Anytime I ask you to do something you will respond one of two ways. If it is something that you would like to do you will answer with "Yes, Sir." If I it is something that you would not like to do you will answer with "Anything for you Sir. Either way you will obey. Do you understand?"
I fell into the role just a little too easily to feel comfortable with myself and I answered "Anything for you, Sir." Indicating that I would do what he ordered me to do whether I wanted to or not.
He pushed me back causing me to fall onto the bed. Once on the bed he dragged my body into the position he wanted me in. He laid me on my back with my arms stretched out above my head and my legs spread eagle. I expected him to tie me up but in retrospect slavery requires more subjugations of the mind than of the body.
Steve turned down the lights, lit candles and played romantic music. Certainly not what I expected. He lay down next to me running his hands over my girly-attired form. He kissed me tenderly in all the places I kiss my wife when I make love to her: my neck, my cleavage, tummy, etc.
He was setting the tone. Making sure that I understood I was the girl and he was the man. He turned me over and repeated the process on my backside. I have to admit I was feeling adored and very feminine.
It was just about at this point when his attitude changed again. "Do me now, Bitch." He dumped me off the bed and took my place.
The mind games were crazy. I kissed him all over as he had kissed me. It was difficult being so intimate with a guy and it helped me to imagine I was with my wife.
He said, "Now on the lips." I didn't think he would want that. I didn't think I could do it. I wanted to run, screaming, knowing I would forfeit the good sex still to come. Mostly I just wanted to say no. I avoided the issued and kept kissing his fingers.