SLUTTY WHORE'S FIRST SUBMISSION 01
by GWMSUB4DOMGAM @ yahoo.com
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I hope you've been reading my Slutty Whore stories about my experiences as a whore later in life. How did it all begin? I've been asked that by many of you and decided to relate some of my youthful experiences which showed me my true calling and path. Hope you enjoy.
Also just a note -- in the UK 16 was the age of consent for straights and 21 for gays until a few years ago when the government brought both into line at 16.
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While I had many sexual experiences in my teen years with friends, one or two strangers, and so on, I always think of my first really slutty whore and submissive sex-slave experience as having occurred when I was 16.
I had spent the night at a friends house on the other side of Glasgow, Scotland where I was born. We had gone to school together until my parents moved further into the countryside to be closer to other relatives. I still kept in touch with Hugh and his family and every now and again I would stay with him, or he would stay with us for the weekend.
Normally this would involve arriving early on Friday evening and staying until early Sunday evening when we would catch a train back home. On the weekend in question however, a sunny but cool April, I had decided to leave early on Sunday morning to play in a neighborhood football (soccer for Americans lol) game some friends had organized. My parents didn't know about the game and didn't expect me home until around 8pm that evening. I left Hugh's house at 8:30am and walked the half mile to the train station which was completely deserted at that time in the morning. I was wearing my football shorts, socks, and shirt with sneakers and a heavy parka to keep out the chill, and I carried a sports bag with my football boots and my change of clothes. I sat on a bench in a sunny spot of the platform and waited for the train to arrive.
After about ten minutes a four carriage train rolled into the station and I boarded the very last carriage, walking to the bench seat a the rear of the carriage, facing the direction of travel. The carriage was empty, so I unfastened my parka jacket, kicked off my sneakers and put my feet up on the seat opposite to relax on the trip home. The train stopped at about twenty stations between where I was and where I was going. The first two came and passed with no-one getting into the carriage I was riding in. In fact, it seemed as though I was the only person awake right now as I didn't see a soul on the platforms as the train would slow to a halt, wait for a few moments, then the doors would close and the train would amble slowly out of the station to resume its course.
I was starting to get sleepy with the warm sun coming through the window and the rhythmic sound of the train as it clipped over the rails. I was almost asleep when we pulled into the next station and I noticed a guy standing on the platform waiting for the train. He was about six feet tall, probably early twenties, with a Mohawk haircut, a leather jacket emblazoned with patches and colorful painted logo's for some punk band names I recognized. He wore skin tight bleached jeans that were almost white in spots, with lots of tears and rips in them showing off quite a bit of flesh underneath. He wore black Doc Martin boots with bright yellow laces and was drinking from a can of Tennants beer. There has always been something about guys like this that attracts me to them, at least visually.
My sleepiness disappeared in an instant and my eyes roved all over his slim body, checking out his boots, his long and slender legs with his knees, thighs, and I hoped ass cheeks showing through the many tears. As he moved toward the train and scanned up and down the platform, I realized we was not wearing a shirt under the leather jacket and my cock, which was already hard, twitched and grew even harder, tenting my nylon football shorts in a clearly visible way.
I suddenly realized he was looking straight at me as the doors of the train slid open with a familiar rumble. I was mortified at being caught, stripping this stud naked with my eyes and almost literally panting over the vision. I was also scared shitless that he had caught me and was possibly going to kick the living daylights out of me. I turned away quickly, my face flushing red hot in embarrassment, yet I just could not resist furtively turning slightly to catch a glimpse of him again. My heart was pounding so fast that I could hardly hear anything other than the blood coursing through my ears. My fear and excitement was palpable, my mouth dry, my eyes wide open and unblinking, and my stiff cock throbbing against the nylon shorts.
My god walked casually towards the doors directly in front of me and boarded the train looking directly at me. I tried as hard as I could to appear disinterested and stared intently out of the window on the opposite side of the carriage at nothing at all. Despite my best efforts however I could not resist glancing over to where he stood, next to the doors, staring at me with a smile on his face.
The doors rumbled closed and the train slowly began to pull out of the station, and he remained standing, just twelve feet from me, facing in my direction, staring right at me, occasionally drinking from his can of lager. I thought I was going to die, right there on the spot. I was exhilarated, and petrified at the same time. I didn't know where to look, what to do, how to act. I was in sever lust, but I didn't have the experience or tools to know how to handle the situation. Fortunately, he did.
He wandered casually over to where I was sitting and sat down opposite me, facing me. Nervously I began to pull my feet of the bench seat he was now sitting on saying "excuse me" as I did so. He immediately grabbed my legs around my calves and pushed himself sideways to trap them against his legs.
"No problem mate, you don't have to move `em" he said as his thumb moved in a gentle sideways motion, rubbing at my football socks.
I smiled a nervous, goofy, and childish smile, immediately feeling foolish and looking down at the floor of the train, fixating on his not so shiny Doc Martin boots. "uh....oh. Ok, thanks" I muttered.
He kept his left hand on my legs as he chugged another gulp from his can, before holding it out towards me and nodding with his head.
"Wanna sip?" he asked in a very friendly tone.
I looked up from the ground and melted at his smile. I smiled back broadly and involuntarily licked my lips while staring at him, my eyes wide in amazement. This gorgeous, sexy, tough looking, god was talking to me and not beating the crap out of me.
"Me lager" he repeated laughing slightly. "You wanna sip of me lager?" He reached forward extending the can further across the aisle towards me. "If you can let go of yersel', that is" he said, his eyes dropping to my crotch.
I suddenly realized that since he sat opposite me, my hands, entirely of their own accord and with no conscious thought on my own part, had navigated their way to my stiff cock and were stroking it through the thin nylon material.
I stiffened immediately, pulled my hands away to my side as though my cock was white hot (which was close to the truth at that moment" and stumbled over my words apologizing "Oh, of fuck....oh sorry, I ....I didn't meant to, I mean.....I don't usually"
He smiled warmly back at me, slid forward in his seat and slid his left hand all the way up my right leg, under the material of my shorts, and took a hold of my engorged cock, squeezing it a couple of times.
"Not a prob mate. I like what I see" he said putting the can of lager up to my lips.
As he slid his hand up my legs I had taken a sharp intake of breath, as though suddenly shocked by something, which I was. My mouth was still open when the can touched my lips and he angled the can upwards.
"Drink" he said simply, and I did so as the amber fluid flowed into my mouth. "That's a good boy" he said smiling, and I was elated at having pleased him. I gulped down four or five swigs of lager when he pulled the can away from my mouth in mid-gulp. The liquid spilled from the can, hitting my football shirt and cascading down onto the front of my shorts.
He was still squeezing and relaxing his hand around my rock solid and pulsating cock shaft when he said "Ooops, you've made a mess, mate." After gulping the lager, my head already spinning with exhilaration, my breathing was almost in hyper-ventillating mode as I tried to take everything in. I was transfixed and totally under his full and total control.
"Cant ave you goin to your footie game like that. You should come to ma place and we can clean your kit for ya first" he said, now slowly stoking my cock and driving me absolutely insane with lust.
"Ah.....um....I don't" I stuttered, but he interrupted me before I could complete my sentence.
"Uh-uh......You're cummin wiv me mate.....ok" he said in what amounted to a statement of fact more than a question, and at that moment I had absolutely no will power to even consider disagreeing.
"Next stop is mine" he said as the train began slowing, coming into the station.
As I began to pull my feet of the seat next to him, to put my sneakers back on, he quickly grabbed my socks and pulled them all the way off, before rolling them up and putting them in his jacket pocket. My look of shock must have amused him. He laughed for a moment.
"I like ya better like this" he said as I pushed my bare feet into my sneakers.
We exited the train, walked up the stairs to the street level, and jumped on to a waiting bus with him paying my fair as well as his own. We went upstairs on the double decker bus, and went to the back on the top floor, sitting side by side. I was on the inside, closest to the window, while he took the aisle side, sliding in close to me. The bus started moving and he asked me the perfunctory questions, which I answered dutifully without any thought to what exactly was really going on. My heart was still pounding, my cock was rock hard and I was sure the bus driver had seen my tented shorts as we boarded the bus, and I was is shock that I'd left the train with a complete stranger and was now going to his home. Something I'd never done before.
"What's yer name?" he aksed, and I told him Jay.
"How old are ye?" and I replied "Sixteen and three months" He laughed at my feeble attempt to seem older, and I felt stupid for having done so. His hands grabbed at my parka and be began pulling it off my shoulders.
"S'ok mate. Sixteen and a quarter is a fine age. Hot on this bus, `int it?" I didn't resist at all, but leaned forward in the seat and twisted first left then right to allow him to take my jacket off. My bag was already at his feet, and he opened it, pushing my jacket and my socks from his pocket inside. His eyes roved up and down my entire length, and while my eyes were fixated on his belly button which I could see, I felt embarrassed, ashamed, and yet elated at his attention.
His right hand pushed up the leg of my shorts to my cock again and he stroked a few times slowly and gently.
"Ye like that, eh?" he said leaning in right next to my right ear, so that I could feel his breath as he spoke.
My cock twitching and jumping in his hand, I couldn't even answer him. I just breathed heavily in quick succession a couple of times. He laughed gently, then licked the side of my cheek with his tongue and he pulled my cock out of the bottom of my shorts.
"Tasty mate" he said as he wiped some pre-cum from the head of my uncut cock and brought his finger to my lips. My mouth already open, he slipped his finger inside my mouth.
"Lick it clean boy" he said, and I immediately obliged without a second of hesitation, though my eyes constantly darted out of the window of the bus to see if anyone was observing me acting is such a poofy way. He returned his hand to my cock, jerked a few more stokes, retrieved some more pre-cum, and repeated the process maybe a half dozen times. I was breathing as though I'd just completed a 90 mile marathon, my face was beet red, I was sweating, and I was shaking with excitement.
"Ma house is at the next stop" he whispered into my ear, grabbing my bag from the floor and jumping up to walk forward to the stairs that led down to the lower deck of the bus. I stood up quickly to follow him and banged my head into the roof of the bus, letting out a profanity before I stepped out into the aisle to follow him. As he turned back to me he smiled.
"Ye might wanna cover that up fer now" he smiled, and I realized my cock was still sticking out from the bottom of my shorts, pointing the way forward. "Don't worry, we'll get it out soon enough" he smirked as he bounded down the stairs ahead of me.
I struggled to force my cock back under the flimsy nylon material of my shorts and tugged at my football jersey to try to hid the enormous tent in the front of my shorts, to absolutely no avail. The bus stopped and my god and I jumped off into the cool sunshine. My left hand was forcing my engorged cock down between my legs, which was painful to no end, while my right hand tried to pull my jersey down as far as possible to cover my crotch. My god just smiled good naturedly at my predicament and turned, walking away and presumably expecting me to follow him.
I jogged a few steps to catch up as we turned a corner into a series of tower blocks which had landing running the length of the buildings. Each building had about twenty flats (apartments in America) on each level, with about twelve floors on each and access stairs at both ends of the building. We walked past three of these towers before he entered the stairwell of the fourth one. He bounded up the stairs to the very top floor with me following as best I could behind him. As we turned the corner on the top floor he used a key to open the door to the first flat and stepped in. I was about to follow him in when he held up his hand to stop me.
"Shoes off" he said, pointing to my trainers. I quickly slipped out of them using my own feet to release them. "Kick em in here boy" he order and I did. He picked each one up and dropped them into my open bag.
A wicked smile crossed his face as he looked me up and down for a few moments, before he continued.
"Shirt off" he said, looking at me in a quizzical way, perhaps wondering if I would go through with this. It was still pretty early and pretty chilly, and without my Parka jacket I was a little cold, so I hesitated for a moment, looking along the landing to make sure no-one was observing us. He waited patiently, just looking me up and down.
I wrestled with my own emotions at that moment. Did I really want to do this with a complete stranger? But he was SO HOT !! But I don't know him from Adam. What if he turns out to be a crazed homophobe?
"Boy" he said, not in a mean way, but the tone definitely pulled me back to the reality of the moment. I looked at him, my mouth open as if to say something, but no words formed in either my brain, or my mouth.
"Take off yer shirt, or take yer bag and git outta here" he said very matter of factly. He was offering me an option, an out, and that made me trust him in that moment. I looked around one more time and quickly pulled my jersey over my head, throwing it into the bag and quickly crossing my arms over my chest and rubbing my shoulders with my hands to warm up a little.
He smiled broadly, happy at his conquest perhaps, or having expected me to baulk and leave. He nodded appreciatively and looked pointedly at my shorts before looking me straight in the eyes. He smiled and nodded his head towards the bag and I knew exactly what he was asking. I'd been naked in public places a number of times before, but somehow this was entirely different. I was `stripping' naked for someone else this time. I was in public and willingly stripping stark naked for someone whom I found fucking hot. It seemed ....dirty, wrong, disgusting, depraved, and with a quick nervous look around me, I quickly slipped my shorts down to my ankles, stepped out of them, and threw them into the bag. I moved so quickly that I almost fell on my face, but when I stood back up I brought my hands in front of my cock, pushing it down to conceal it.
"Fuck yeah boy" he said as he threw my back far into the back of his hallway.
I was desperate to get into his house, and at that same time I LOVED the fact that I had just stripped stark naked in the middle of a council housing estate because a hot fucking guy had told me to. I wanted to stand there forever, to be seen by everyone, but I also wanted to get inside his house and I wanted him to fuck me so badly. I stepped forward to enter, but he grabbed me and pushed me back outside and back the few steps to the railing on the landing, planting his lips over my own and forcing his tongue deep into my mouth while his hands ranged and groped every inch of my naked, cold, and goose-fleshed skin.
He pulled back after a few moments, smiled broadly and warmly at me, stepped aside, slapped my ass hard and ordered me "Git inside boy." I complied quickly, running inside his flat. He followed me in slamming the door so loudly that I actually jumped, the giggled in embarrassment. I was stark naked in a strangers flat, in the middle of Glasgow, knowing that I desperately wanted him to fuck me and use me. I was elated, and terrified, and excited, and nervous, and.......such a whirlwind of mixed emotions, I thought I was going to die right there and then. He had called me boy, and while I detested it when my parents or extended family called me it, it seemed sexy and just right when he called me that. I was a boy to him, his boy, and in this moment, that is exactly what I wanted to be.
--End
I would love feedback on this story, (or to hear from you if you are a dominant Asian Master lol ) at GWMSUB4DOMGAM@yahoo.com.