I stopped humping, spent and out of breath. My girlfriend, Sarah, clung to my sweaty shoulders and pulled herself close to my face, her breasts pushing against my bare chest. "You cum yet?" she asked in as pleasant a voice as possible. She felt me shake my head in the dark, and then she asked, "Lost cause?" to which I nodded. We went to sleep, then. Sarah drifted off happily, in the arms of the boyfriend she'd apparently been eyeing for most of college. But I couldn't rest. Why was I having such difficulty getting an orgasm from fucking my girlfriend?
The next day was a weekend and Sarah had a squash match away somewhere, so I spent the afternoon low-key, surfing the internet on my computer. I'm not sure how I even ended up in the erotic chat forum, but I'd brought my what-the-hell attitude with me that day, so I signed on as mr. Ious.' Clever, huh? I was barraged by a list of usernames on the right side of the screen. Names like hungman' and ate-inches' and sammy_21.' "What goes on in here?" I wrote. I was given the usual spiel by the room's operators and discovered that it was a forum for gay men. I'm not homophobic and I needed something to do, someone to talk to, so I hung out. I laughed a little at the rude fantasies that were being written. It was like these men had known each other for years; a community of strangers. "So what's your fantasy?" one of them asked me. I decided to play along. "I'd like to get turned gay."
"What do you mean by that?" asked one user, `tiptop_19.'
Ummm. "I'm a straight guy -- hope that's okay in here -- and my fantasy is to become so turned on by a man that I have no choice but to fall in love with him," I wrote back.
"Everyone is welcome here," wrote hungman, a system op.
tiptop_19, who seemed to be taking a sudden interest in me, wrote, "Are you Ser Ious, Mr. Ious?"
I don't know why, but I answered, "Sure."
"Cause I can help u with that," he wrote back.
So we started talking, tiptop_19 and I. We chatted for three hours that afternoon, and then two more late that night. He was an interesting guy -- his name was Ryan, I found out -- had a boyfriend of two years, but liked to get out and play the field a little.
"And your boyfriend lets you do this?" I asked, intrigued.
"My boyfriend doesn't tell me what to do," he wrote back. "He knows I'll always come home to him."
There was something very appealing about what Ryan said, the way he talked. He had this presence online, which would have sounded ridiculous to me before that day, but now I understood. I felt like talking to him all the time, and pretty soon, I was. I started hanging out less and less with college friends and with Sarah. I'd make some lame excuse, and then rush back to my room, lock the door, and get online with Ryan.
It didn't take too long for the conversation to lead to sex. "So why u keep showing up here?" Ryan wrote.
"I dunno," I said honestly. "I just like the company, I guess."
"r u gay?"
"No!" I said. Of course, that was basically the truth. A friend of mine and I had sucked each other off back in high school. No big deal, just fooling around...though I had asked to suck him off even after he refused to reciprocate the last two times we'd done it. "I mean," I continued, "I love women. I've had a blowjob from a guy friend, but to me, gay sex is about power."
Ryan was persistent, though not pushy. After two months of talking like this, he was convinced I was gay and he wouldn't let it go. I continued to insist that I wasn't, or at least, I was bi.
One night, he wrote, "Take off your clothes." And I didn't even think about it, I just did it. Ryan was in some completely different place in the country, wouldn't have been able to tell if I was naked or wearing three layers, but I did what he said.
"OK, naked," I replied.
"Look at ur cock." I did. "U hard?" I was. I told him. "What are u hard about?"
"I don't know," I wrote back.
That night, we had our first scene. He had me slobbering all over my cock, rubbing it slowly at first, then more until he ordered me to cum, and gobs and gobs shot out of my rock hard cock. It was the best orgasm I'd had in weeks.
"You need more stuff, boy," Ryan wrote to me. I found I liked being called boy. It seemed like an affectionate term.
"What kind of stuff, sir?" Slowly, we accumulated a list. At first, he only intended me to buy some baby oil, but I kept on asking what else he wanted me to get, just to see what ideas he had. But then he'd tell me what else he wanted me to get -- a dildo, a butt plug, a cock ring, posing trunks -- and I'd have to buy them. It's okay; I was good to try anything once, and this wasn't going to hurt any, as long as I didn't run into anyone I knew.
I did some research and found a sex shop that would have those items two towns over. I drove there, parked around the corner -- I didn't want anyone recognizing my car. I mean, I wasn't gay. I was just doing this with a friend online. Just trying stuff out. There were a few people in the store, browsing. A quick check revealed I didn't know any of them. I found the dildos quickly and browsed through them. There were monstrous ones, and I figured it wasn't worth it to get one of those. I chose one that looked like it was about the size of my own cock: six inches long, about four inches around. Grabbed the butt plug, too, and a leather cock ring with straps, but couldn't find the posing briefs anywhere. Then I realized they were behind the counter. I'd have to ask for them.
Sitting by the register was a gorgeous woman -- busty, blonde, pouty lips. When she saw me with the equipment I had in my hands, she looked at me as a gay man, didn't even consider whether I was attractive or not because what was the point for her? "Can I help you?" she asked me. I told her I needed a pair of posing briefs. She looked behind her where there were several pairs on display. She was much nicer than I had imagined a sex shop clerk would be; together, we decided on a tight, electric blue, high cut, bikini brief. "That'll look really good for your boyfriend," she said. I blushed profusely.
Ryan seemed thrilled at my experience. After beginning our session with the usual warm-ups to nudity and erection, Ryan asked me what I wanted to do. I told him I wanted to try out the toys, I guess. "So u want to get fucked in the ass?" he said.
"No, it's different. I just want to try the dildo."
"OK, whatev," Ryan wrote back. He got me to slime the dildo and my ass with lube and I sat back in my chair, my legs up on my desk, my computer right in front of me. I started to shove the dildo in my hole. It took a while, and there was a point right around three inches that took my breath away. Then it was intense pleasure and pain from there on. Once it was all the way in, Ryan ordered me to fuck my ass with the dildo. There I was, naked and alone in my dorm room, fucking my ass for the first time all because someone I'd never met had told me to. It felt incredible. I loved getting fucked.
But before I could cum, Ryan told me I could not. "u can't cum until u do something for me."
Breathlessly, dildo half in my ass, I reached to the keyboard and wrote, "Anything. I'll do anything, sir."
"Anything?" I was told to put on my cock ring and tight, light-colored pants, plus a comfortable shirt. Then I needed to drive to Wal-Mart the next day, a Saturday, when it was really busy, and go to the dressing room. That was the only place I was allowed to cum, but I couldn't use anything to clean up but what I had on. After cumming, I had to go buy a jockstrap, some nylon rope, and a bucket, and come back home. "I'll be waiting," Ryan wrote.
I drove up to the Wal-Mart and entered. I was so hard, and I knew that anyone looking at me would be able to tell that my pants were straining with lust. Luckily, most of the customers were occupied with their kids or spouses. I grabbed a pair of pants -- any pair, didn't matter -- and walked to the dressing room. Once inside, I whipped out my rock-hard cock and thought about Ryan. I imagined his defined chest and abs, his confident gaze luring me to do these ridiculous things. I mean, I was about to embarrass myself in front of a store full of people. I didn't care. I wanted this.
I worked my left hand up and down my throbbing cock and in less than thirty seconds, I exploded all over my pants. It sprayed up and down my pant legs like mud splashing a car. Cum coated my legs . Suddenly, I got scared. Before just now, this had been an exciting idea that made me hard to think about, but now there was no escape from my fate. I tried to wait for a few minutes to see if the cum stains would dry and fade, but there was no hope. I gathered my courage and broke out of the dressing room. I hadn't thought to look where the items I needed were before blowing my wad, so now I had to speedwalk up and down the aisles of this gigantic Wal-Mart, searching in vain for the bucket, rope, and jockstrap. I felt like everyone in the store was looking at me now, whispering. It was obvious I hadn't peed in my pants -- there wasn't a soaking that ran down one leg. It was more of a splatter, like a Jackson Pollock painting. I was bright red with shame. Ryan had really put me in my place.
I found the equipment I was to buy and endured the disgusted look of the cashier's face as she rung me out. But I also noticed that my erection was back in full force as I walked outside to my car.
Ryan made me take the rope and wrap it around my ballsac just above my nuts so that they stretched out a bit. Then I had to tie the other end to a bucket so that it banged against my shins. I was to get naked and drink plenty of water. Ryan chatted with me about how I'd felt in the store. "I was so embarrassed, master," I wrote. I'd started calling him master just for kicks. I thought again about what he'd made me do and realized that my name for him was apt. "Hold on a sec, sir. I just have to go to the bathroom."
"Wait," he wrote back instantly. I sat waiting for his further instructions. "Pee in the bucket," he said.
I did what he said and filled the bottom of the bucket. There was a little more weight hanging off my balls. I saw what he was doing to me. My penis was stiffer than I'd ever remembered. I was so hot for Ryan; I felt like I would do anything he asked me to.
"Drink more water," Ryan wrote. Over the next several hours, he had me jack slowly and tantalizingly, barely touching my cock, or allowing me just a few strokes. I peed three more times, and my master had me walk around, jump a little bit. I was really feeling it. Ryan made me pinch my nipples until they were extra sensitive, pulling the nubs away from my body, twisting them to hardness. He had me fuck my ass more with the dildo. I did everything he said.
That night, at three am, after over twelve hours of this, Ryan finally let me cum. It was mind-blowing. All over my desk, my hands, my wall. It was as though my orgasm was lasting for whole minutes. I couldn't help but moan. I knew my roommates could probably hear me, but I was starting not to care. I hadn't admitted it yet, but I was becoming gay for Ryan, and I was becoming his slave. Little did I know that this was only the tip of the iceberg of what I would be willing to do for my master.
Thanks for reading. Thanks, H.E., for the inspiration.