A Submissive's Journey Pt. 04

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This is a story about a young man exploring his sexuality and finding out he is a gay submissive. It is rather long and not all about sex so if you are looking for a quickie you might want to look elsewhere. This is a fantasy. All characters are over the age of 18. Please enjoy.

-------------------

I awoke to the faint hum of the refrigerator. Swaddled in a down comforter on the floor, I lay on my side atop the soft plush carpet. It reminded me of sleepovers at Grandma's place. The room was cooler than during the day, but I was sung as could be. Hugging the pillow, I repositioned myself on my side and stretched my legs out.

There was a tenderness between my legs in the back but not really a pain. Reaching back I delicately ran my fingers over the area. It was soft to the touch and it took almost no pressure to slip a little ways inside. I worked around a little bit and had the feeling like when you have an itch for a long time and you finally give in. Come to think of it there really was an itch of a sort, but I was not sure if it was real or some kind of psychological thing.

For more comfort I turned facing the floor and brought my knees up to my belly, ass pointed straight up in the air, and reached underneath massaging my love hole with the flat of my fingers. This position alternately brought to mind a girl rubbing her vagina and myself waiting for a guy to come up behind me to take what was offered.

I checked over my shoulder to see if my host was watching. Part of me wanted him to wake and to try again, even though I knew there was no way that I could take another pounding like that so soon; but, no matter, for he was still sleeping. I rubbed gently in a slow rhythmic fashion and let my mind drift off.

What were the other men going to be like? Tom had several I think. Had he said how many? I wasn't sure. This was Monday and they both said something about next weekend. I was to meet them individually. How many was that?

This entire line of questioning was getting me nowhere, but it felt good to just free associate there warm and cozy in the dark, alone just me and my thoughts. I knew the real questions were why and did I really want to do this. Every time I stepped out it seemed that I went a little bit further. How far did I want to take it and what was further on down the line.

My mind was so confused on the issue that I just had to follow what my body had been telling me. Just the night before I had been trying desperately to pleasure myself to women and while I found it pleasurable, when it came down to it and I wanted to cum I had stuffed a fake penis in my mouth and then exploded. Maybe it was just the newness, or the sense of taboo, that I was doing things that I shouldn't and being a naughty boy. Possibly, all of this would wear off with the shine of newness.

Then again, I thought, there was a very real possibility that what was titillating me was all this fear of what might be happening next; the anticipation of events to come, extreme in their nature that would push the bounds of my existence.

There was the possibility that it could all go to far though, and I was losing control. The only thing that was keeping me on the track was the idea that if anything got too weird that I could always jump ship. There was a large part of me that didn't believe I was going to go on through to the end anyways. Sure these last couple days had been wild, but I would come down to earth and just dump it all and return to my studies and walk on with life.

Didn't older people always reminisce on the wildness of their youth especially the college days? It was always said part in fond memories, but also with a sense of relief that they did not have to go back there again and live it that very moment. Was it because they were old and did not have the energy to truly live now? If that was the case then surely I should grab the bull by the horns as they would say and just go wild while I could. It felt good. At least it had so far and there as no real reason to stop now, nothing that could not be taken back at a later time.

--

Were these doubts that I was feeling that night? I am sure that they were, but now reflecting back on the past at that time, it had more the effect of cheering myself on. Much like the friend who always gets you into trouble cajoling you to make that dangerous jump or in a way like the delinquent Israel talking the lot of us into toilet papering.

What was playing out was not just a sexual adventure, but a continuation of my life as I had lived it. Under the shadow and direction of others: Go to college, take this job, join this club. All of my life there had been an order from an outside source and me following that order. It was perhaps the one thing in the world that I truly excelled at.

Following was easy. It took all of the responsibility off of myself. That man in the video booth had commanded me to suck his cock; it wasn't me that wanted it. Tom had lured me with booze into a sexual encounter and then followed that up by taking me to his office, his position of power and had his way with me there; It couldn't have been me wanting to have his hands on my head guiding his cock in and out of his mouth.

At that moment laying balled up on the floor in a position to accept the next man, I would have been hard pressed to come up with a single decision I had made myself that entire day, and yet, there I lay on the floor content wondering what was planned for me next. Not was I to do, but was to be done to me.

--

The next day went by quickly. Mr. Silver had a pressing engagement so he woke me early in the morning and we packed off back to the campus. I was kind of groggy, leaning against the window and watching the trees go by. It was another hazy day, the sort that makes you want to curl back up in bed or watch mindless game shows all day.

We didn't even have any hanky panky in the car. Not that I would have minded. The drive that coursed through the Mr. Silvers of the world was simply focused on another goal at that moment. You could almost see him working out the details of some business deal. Yesterday was about manipulating me, today there was some other fellow, but he was about to lose something else. I had only lost my virginity.

That brought my mind back to the physical side of things and the dull ache below. I kind of sat sideways in the seat to keep more comfortable, not that it was really painful, just I seemed to notice it more when I sat right on it. Hopefully the guy tonight would be ok with leaving me just suck him or whatever.

Oh, the guy tonight, while we were preparing to drive back to the campus, Milt had run down the plans for me that day. He was mentally scratching it of his list of things to do that day and when he was done explaining himself that was the end of it. It was not to be brought up again.

I was to await a call around the same time this afternoon and the next man would tell me where to go. It seems he was the owner of some club and I was going to go down there and keep him company. More than likely I wasn't going to be needed until evening but he said to be ready for whenever a call came in. A good boy was always punctual and ready.

I didn't know about all that, but I would listen for the phone while I chilled out and probably got some more sleep in the room. I really had been drinking too much lately and my body just needed a little break. I guess that was a little rebellious of me not being all Yes Sir in my mind but I really hadn't bought the whole way into the program just yet and I needed some time to myself where I didn't have to be on pins and needles.

Milt dropped me off at my place with a "see you Saturday" so at least I knew when the gathering was supposed to be. He had given me a card like a credit card that I could use at a shop downtown. He said to grab myself a nice outfit for the party and to think fine dining when I got it. I thanked him and headed up to my room.

The place was a mess. It's funny how you can live in total squalor and not even notice. OK it wasn't that bad by college standards, but my Mother would have spent the whole damn day in there cleaning up. It took me around fifteen minutes, but was just about as good.

The television kept me company for through the afternoon as I dozed off and on. All around me in the other rooms guys were coming and going. No one bothered me though. Since I had gotten the night job it was like no one even lived in this room.

It was a little odd to be playing hooky again on my classes, but I had decided that one week wasn't going to kill anyone and I deserved a break.

The phone didn't ring until almost seven p.m. At two I had started looking over at the phone. By four I was dressed and ready to go out. At commercial breaks I would get up and wander around sometimes going over and looking at the phone. Six o'clock rolled around and I started to think he wasn't going to call me. A strange sense of relief came over me and I started planning to not go, which really meant nothing since I had no other plans.

Tonight would just be hanging out watching TV. Maybe I would make a round on the floor and see if anything was going on here. It had been a while since I had hung out with any one my age. Perhaps I would catch up on old times and just leave this notion of weird sex behind.

I kept getting just about to the door to leave and walk down the hall when I would think about some little thing. It was I'll go right after this part of the game show I was watching to see who would win the round or I had better check up on my homework for that one class. That one I cannot get too far behind in.

At any rate I was there when the phone rang. The sound made my skin get all goose pimply. There was a very real quick mental dialogue as to whether to answer it, but after about five rings my and darted out and put the receiver up to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked into empty space.

"Hey, This is Mark from the club. We are about to get going down here. Why don't you come on down. You know where you are going? You take the B bus."

Mark sounded a bit younger than the other guys maybe in his thirties.

"Ok, Yeah sure I was just about to head out. I mean I'm ready to go I'll see you before long I guess."

"Sure thing," Mark said, "Just ask for me at the door I'll tell the guy you are coming. What are you wearing so I can tell him to look for you?"

"Umm. Red shirt with blue jeans and a leather jacket," I replied.

"OK, yeah that's like half the city. How about you tell him you got the special delivery for me. It's John right?"

I said this was true and we hung up.

The bus ride was quite a bit like that last time I went down. Mixed in with the feeling that people knew why I was heading downtown was my experience the last time. The scene played through in my mind. The simple word "Kneel" resonated in my mind and I found myself wishing that I were going to visit the man from the booth.

If I did would I dare to look at him longingly then pick my own booth and strip down, letting him know that more than my mouth was available now? Would that even be a good idea? The man had seemed very hard. Milt had used me well last night but I also sensed that he was being very careful not to damage me either. Something about the blue collar man told me that he would either not know to go gentle or would truly not care for my well being.

It got me thinking that different guys would use me different ways. It seems obvious but it wasn't something that I had explored before. The bus ride was boring so I started to play a game in my mind. As we passed a man on the street I thought about how it would be if he had me suck him or if he tried to take me from behind. He could be rough or gentle. Some the very thought creeped me out to no end and I couldn't even look in their direction. Seriously try it. If you see a weird looking person think about them fucking you. It messes with your brain.

Occasionally I would pass a girl. At first I didn't really know how to include them in my little game. My mind already did the automatic "would I fuck her" check whether I actually would or not at this stage I don't know. Probably. But that wasn't the way my mind was working that night. I was after all on the ay to get used by a man.

To think of a lady sexually was in a way a losing of my focus, so I played the game this way. I would imagine them walking in on me sucking off their husband. The first lady was about two hundred pounds so it was kind of a funny scene in my mind. It was hard for me to imagine her sexually in any manner.

The next girl was a pretty coed and I blushed with shame. Her eyes went right to the bus window the second I thought about sucking her hubby. The windows were tinted so there was little likelihood that she had seen me looking at her, but that split second it was as if she read my mind and I knew right then exactly what it would be like to have her walking in with me kneeling in front of her studly boyfriend, mouthful of cock.

A long ride in a vehicle usually ends the same way. You are moving along sometimes at a decent traveling pace, others stuck in traffic and even sometimes you are completely at a halt, which obviously happens quite often on a bus. All of this is natural, but when you are close to your destination and you slow down for that final exit or you pass over the tracks the inertia in your body the whole sense of your motion starts to come to a halt. Children will wake and move around or an old lady will look up suddenly from her reading. I caught a lump in my throat.

The club was fashioned from an old warehouse. I don't actually remember the name, but it isn't important they are all the same even when they are different. Twisting passages that seem to go nowhere are all over the place and there are many nooks to hide out in. Most of these are off limits.

I got past the bouncer at the door easily and was directed down one of these snaking passages that went around the main room to the control center. At a couple turns I asked someone standing around where to find Mark and they pointed me in the right direction.

He was in an office that looked down on the dance floor. If you have seen any old movie where there are a hundred ladies sewing in some factory and they have to run up a set of stairs set into the wall to go up and dare ask the supervisor a question, then you know the place I mean.

Mark was as I thought a younger man, one of those guys that would probably look about the same age for a good thirty years. He had an infectious grin and light curly hair. He wore glasses but he didn't look like he needed them. The one thing that stood out to me the first time I met him was that he wore shorts, long and baggy for the time. The weather was nice for this time of year, but no one was wearing shorts around.

They weren't just any set of shorts either. You could tell that he had them for quite sometime, the old comfortable pair that you always throw on first. Faded here and there but especially in the crotch. It was like someone had tie-dyed in the outline of his cock and it was pretty impressive I must say. There was also a hole a couple inches long just underneath this. You couldn't see anything just his thigh, but it was an odd thing for a guy running a place like this to be wearing. He was so laid back that it fit him and no one seemed to question it.

Things indeed were getting into the swing of it. There were over a hundred people down below us on the dance floor alone. The music had a bouncing driving energy, which flowed in waves throughout the crowd as they writhed in time.

Right in the corner of the huge dance floor about twenty feet off the ground was a platform built out of the wall that resembled a private balcony at an opera house. The only access to this are was directly through the office. In it the magic of the club was brought to life. At the moment just a steady recorded track was being laid down, but when the energy really started pumping Mark would go out on the "pulpit" as he called it and spin songs and generally cheer the crowd on.

On the dance floor itself were four platforms that were about eight or so feet in diameter and raised a good five feet off the ground. They were cylindrical cages with hollow aluminum bars. From time to time a bouncer called he selectman would go through the crowd picking out hotties to go up into the cages. Being the selectman was a very nice job to have since all the girls wanted the attention and would offer all sorts of favors to be put up in the booths.

It was time for Mark to head out on the pulpit and he took me through the door with him. The small area was crowded in with electric amplifiers mixers, tape decks, tons of songs premixed and single all laid out in a very organized manner. There was not exactly a pulpit like you see in a church but there was a shelf about three feet off the ground that ran the whole outer circle and a speakers stand that lay atop it so from below he looked much like a preacher when he was up there working.

I was directed under the part of the shelf where the speaker stand was. There was a tiny stool there for me to sit on. Tom finally was ready and he called out to the masses, who roared back at him. Somewhere between conductor and head cheerleader his job was to keep pushing up the energy level making quick changes and interjecting in funny little quips here and there usually laced with sexual innuendo.

My job was clear as well, so when he had a record on he would walk up to the stand and I would caress his cock through the shorts. The material was a kind of heavy satin and fleece. His package was truly a gift to behold. All of the contours showed in detail now that he was almost fully erect. Beneath the copper bronze color his tool shined through as if a sculptor had worked his final masterpiece. Every ridge, every turn, the firm helmet cascaded away to delicate tip. The length of the shaft ran straight down but with a few inches left it turned slightly to the left and up as if arching out at my now waiting mouth.

My fingers reached up through the convenient hole massaging the head and pulling it delicately out into plain view. It was like the shorts themselves were growing a cock. I would take a little out and lick and kiss the flesh. Sometimes it felt right to just smack it up against my cheeks or rub my lips over the sweet meat.

Every minute or two I would start the process of removing his gun from its holster but his duty would call and off he would run to put on a song or set up some controls for lighting. The prize would retreat into its shelter and then he would return. Never did I get to see the wholeness of him.

The process of discovery turned into a sort of game for me. After starting the expected way I tried different strategies.

There was the no hands method where I would put my lips into the hole and in a weird game of bobbing for apples try to find his cock and pull it out. Several times I attempted this only to have him walk off before I could even get him though the hole. When I caught a hold I would just keep his whole head in my mouth lathering it with my tongue for fear that I would lose it.

Sometimes I would not touch his penis with my fingers at all but grab either side of the hole and direct it over his cock. The hole and his cock were of close the same size so I could run the material up and down the shaft and create some friction. Eventually this just led to me sticking his cock about a finger length out the hole and grabbing the rod around the clothed part I would jack him and suck him off. This was the most of his cock I could see at once.

One time I even tried to just go up his shorts from the bottom. They were pretty baggy and I could make out his heavy balls, but it was difficult to reach up in and the best that I would get was a few licks and some huffs of his manly odor.