Abdel had always known he was different. He liked to be bossy. He made bets with other boys and, if they lost, the result would be a bit of humiliation. He soon learned that there were boys who gave in easily, probably because they liked it, and some that had trouble complying.
When he was eighteen he found himself checking out fetish sites, porn sites and discovered he was attracted to BDSM porn. It freaked him out, knowing this was weird to a lot of people but watching men being humiliated and receiving pain really turned him on.
On a chat site, he saw an ad for a trampling and fetish party in a club. He put on his newest track suit and his nike Air Max '90's and tried to gain entrance. The bouncer asked him for his ID and, when he tried to bluff his way in, the bouncer brought out the owner who told him to come back when he was twenty-one.
Abdel tried dating through the chat site and he started by asking £50 for a sneakers/feet/trampling dates. He had a few clients that liked to be humiliated by an Arab boy. It made him enough money that he was able to buy some nice clothes, sneakers and, when he was nineteen, paid for his driving lessons.
Finding out he liked doing what he was doing scared him - realizing that someone's pain and humiliation turned him on. He asked Allah to make him "normal," but that never happened.
One day, a man asked him to stand on his balls. The man lay on his back as he used his foot with his Adidas superstars to shove the man's balls up his stomach. He then looked him in the eye as he put his foot on the nuts, hearing the man groan as he added a little weight. The combination of hurt and adoration did something to Abdel as he stepped his full weight on the man's balls. The man cried in pain but he kept saying, "Thank you, Master Abdel." The power that rushed through him gave him a raging hard-on. Abdel started wanking, rocking back and forth on the man's nuts, crushing down on them.
The moans and cries and the man's thank yous quickly got him over the edge and he shot his load in the man's face. He stepped off the balls, noticing the print of the threads deeply imprinted. He walked to the man's chest, rubbed his soles in his own cum, mixed with the man's precum and made him lick it. He then needed to take a slash, pointed his cock at the man's face and emptied his bladder.
After coming down from the high of the trampling, Abdel felt guilty, filthy and bad. He could not believe what he had done but the man brought him a Coke and thanked him profusely. He kept saying this was the best session he had ever had and called Abdel a "true master," not like those in it for just the money. The man gave him a great tip and when Abdel went home, he had a lot to think about.
He lay in bed crying, knowing that asking Allah to make him normal would never work. The images of the face of that man and how good it felt filled his head. He kept wanking, four times that night. He knew he needed someone to talk to. In three weeks, he would be 18 and the club would let him in.
Abdel continued to pay his way with the money he made from being a dom.
And then, one night, he found himself in Torremolinos with his mates who decided to bully Tony again. He wouldn't have thought Tony was a sub but, when he thought back, it clocked. He laughed at Raf and Simon casually humiliating Tony, Simon standing on him, Raf chatting to him with his foot on Tony's face. Christian had lost interest but he could tell Harry was fascinated. He knew Raf and Simon were just playing, being boys and trying to see how far they could carry it. But with Harry, there was something else.
Abdel had read a lot on slavery and how to turn someone. He decided to try and get Tony to himself. After Raf lifted his foot, Simon spat in his face, and Raf slammed his foot down on Tony's face, rubbing Simon's spit, he spoke out.
