As so many of you know, giving up a fetish or secret desire is not easy. As a straight man in a committed relationship, I was, for the most part, sexually content. However, my mind wandered to a time when I had my needs met by an older gentleman who administered punishment and saw to my sexual release.
Walking into his house was a feeling unlike any other. The moment he'd close the door behind me I was 'boy.' It did not matter what I did for a living or whether I graduated from college or whatever. I was there to endure a punishment and training. Training for what, you ask? Beats me. The degradation and pain I'd experience was suspended from reality.
I never walked away from his home feeling less of a person or shameful. There was a time I became a little worried because he told me of his continued conquests with young, gay males even after I committed myself to him. I worried about contracting a disease but my concerns were assuaged my Richard's promise to me of never endangering me to anything.
My letters to him revealed no interest in handling or even seeing his cock. I have no interest in that. He was so accommodating and sensitive to my desires by sparing me the unpleasant task of servicing his cock.
Once my journal revealed interest in submitting my body completely, Richard initiated the act of penetrating me. For the next six months I felt I'd surrendered completely and we were mutually satisfied. My anus seemed to adjust in no time to being sodomized yet staring into my blindfolded dark made me feel like each time was the first. The pain, the shame, the guilt and the overriding naughty pleasure of submitting and being taken from behind never escaped me. I was always present and savored the sound of Richard reaching a climax.
The only time he spoke of seeing other men was moments after he locked the chastity device onto me. I remember vividly he said there were to be no others than him. No men and no women. He reminded me as a Dom, he would still seek out other boys. I nodded in approval because that was his right and it established his control over me. Richard even told me about another man he punishes a few times a year. Richard told me our sessions might overlap and if I was to become jealous or cop an attitude I would be sent home. That was the worst sort of punishment because, after all, how could he punish me without getting aroused? Send me home. And I admit I was starting to feel envious of this other man. I never foresaw a day when I'd be jealous of the other man.
Most of our sessions were silent of words. The half hour duration of my whippings very little was said. Even during penetration neither of us spoke. On occasion Richard would offer flattering words of encouragement. Once he told me his penetration of me was the best he'd ever experienced. I don't know if I was the only one who'd heard that compliment but I really took it to heart. A handsome seventy year-old man with years of men after men.. that is really saying something. He said it was his long-time fantasy to dominate a straight guy completely. He'd been with closeted homosexuals but that was different he assured me. More than once I mentioned the idea I might be gay or even bisexual but Richard insisted I was not. My need to be with a woman never went away and I had fallen in love with Mari. There was never mention of Richard after I stopped seeing him. I did not see what good could have come from talking about all that.
This is not to say I stopped thinking about him.
Life with Mari had its challenges. Within a month of our courtship her demands of me became burdensome. Even the sex became less passionate as her conditions grew. Still, I tried to be an accommodating boyfriend. I even began attending church with her although I hadn't sat through mass since my grandmother's death five years ago. Mari and I did not live together yet she had my key and I had hers. It was not unusual for her to be at my place when I arrived home from work. Dinner was usually ready and cooking is something she does very well. One recent afternoon I called her cell from my work. The tone of her voice let me know immediately something was up and that sinking shot of guilty adrenaline ran through my brain. "Where are you," I asked. "I'm at your place. When will you be here? We need to talk." My blood nearly boiled as I made my way home. What could be bothering her now? I walked through the door and set my bag on a chair. Next to the desk in the living room was my opened safe. The safe was more a fire-proof box with a lock than anything. The safe contained letters, a flash-drive and my journal and a couple kinky items. Everything I would consider a secret had been opened and read. The key was even well-hidden but it was obvious no boundaries were regarded in Mari's search for answers. "What the fuck is going on here? " I demanded. "If this is to work between us, you need serious therapy." seethed Mari. "I need therapy? You've invaded every private space of my being," I fired back. "I cannot be with you anymore unless you get therapy for your sick, perverted habits. There are therapists who can change you back to normal." Mari tilted her head in a condescending way -- appearing to be concerned but really just telling me what to do. "Get out! I want you out of here before I call the police," I barked. She and I were both in tears of anger as she slammed the door behind her. But not before she said some vicious, unforgivable words. I put everything back into the safe and just before I locked the top I pulled my collar out from beneath the loose papers. I stared at it for a while and then broke down in tears. I don't remember how long I cried but soon it was dark and the realization set in: Mari and I were through.
That night I sat on my bed and examined the collar. Then I put it around my neck and fastened it. I tugged a little at the D-ring and then stood up to examine myself in the mirror. I removed my clothes and felt a draft caress my cock. I became aroused at the sight of myself in the dimly lit bedroom wearing nothing but a collar. My hair had grown to my shoulders and I impulsively grabbed the scissors and began a drastic trim. Then came the clippers. For some reason I fitted a half-inch attachment onto the clippers and proceeded to shave my head. I gathered a heap of hair and dropped it in the trash. Once again I returned to the mirror, fully erect. I got dressed and made the drive to Richard's house. It was a Friday night and I had no idea if he was even home. I soon found out he was not.
I sat on one of the many stairs leading up to his hillside house and an hour or so later he returned. He was not alone. He walked up the stairs with another male and I became a little nervous.
"Gregory!" he exclaimed. I nodded to him and the other man. "Come inside, please." he said as the two approached. However, the fleeting look he gave me when he passed by was not exactly welcoming.
He spoke as though we were long-lost friends. He opened a bottle of wine and we made small talk before his friend decided to leave. To an observer, nothing was amiss. But to me, there was major tension building and I nearly left the moment the other guy did. Richard made sure I did not follow his new friend out. I knew the two did not return to his house just to talk over a bottle of wine.
The door closed and Richard slowly turned to me. "I'm glad to see you, Gregory. I like your hair." I half-smiled and nodded. "Look, I don't know why I returned here tonight. I guess I'll go," I said with resignation. We both turned toward the door and Richard opened it for me. "Be careful on the stairs there, boy." I stopped mid-stride and did not turn around.
It seemed like a minute before Richard spoke. "I want you on your knees begging my forgiveness, you hear me, boy?" "No, no. Do it right. Get inside and show me what you've learned!"
Without a moment to spare I returned to his living room and removed my clothes. I set the collar on his piano and dropped down onto my knees. Richard approached me after taking hold of the collar and gently fitted it around my neck.
"I am sorry, Sir. Please accept my forgiveness." I pleaded.
He said nothing as he brushed the hair clippings from my ears and neck.
I offered one more 'please' for good measure.
Richard was behind caressing my lower back and buttocks. His hand cupped my cheeks as a finger rubbed my hole. I was confident he was going to accept my apology.
"You ran off that day. You made me lose my composure that day. What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Sir, I am truly contrite for doing that to you. I deserve no mercy but I beg of you to forgive me."
It was an over-dramatic approach to groveling but it seemed appropriate considering I was on my knees naked.
Richard brought the blindfold over my head and fastened it into place. He adjusted it around my nose and said,
"I also demand an apology for running off my date tonight. I was sure to get a blowjob!"
I let out a nervous laugh and said, "I'm sorry for ruining your date, Sir."
"And?"
"And your hopes of getting a blowjob?" I asked with uncertainty.
I felt Richard's hands feeling my ears and jaw muscles. Then he gently cradled my newly shaven head in his hands.
"How sorry are you, boy? Open your mouth boy."
I hesitated and Richard asked me again. "How sincere are you boy? Open your lips." Still, my mind raced and then his right
hand slapped me very hard and my jaw fell open. Without wasting a moment Richard's cock was at the back of my throat.
