Los Altos Ch. 01: Preview

This is the first chapter in an (almost all true) story of submission, cock sucking, and abuse. The sex kicks in in the next chapter, although I do enjoy the mental aspects of submission in this first chapter.

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I've had sex with five different women in my 40 years, and I've been married twice. I've never been to adult video stores, or bath houses, or sex clubs. I don't hang out in bars or wherever it is that people meet. I suppose that I've always felt that I'd have something to lose if someone I knew from "the real world" recognized me. I'm not a regular on Craigslist. Sometimes I'll post, but not answer anyone who responds, out of pickiness and fear.

I've met with men three times before; twice responding to a Craigslist ad, and once from my own posting. I saw that man twice however. I sucked cock like a champ, and he slapped me around and fucked me. It was great.

I enjoy sucking cock and fantasize about it a lot, but I don't think of myself as gay, or even bi-sexual. I don't "lust" for men, but I "lust" for submission. I get a lot out of the encounters I've had with strong and powerful men. I'm made weak and helpless, even just with his words. I can't explain it really... Oh!

Anyway, early last month I posted this ad in the sfbay m4m personals with the title "It's All About You":

"Eager, respectful, submissive white man, 42, 175lbs, 5'11" seeks to fulfill your needs; whatever you want to do, as long as it's safe, legal, and you enjoy it. I'll work hard for you, be obedient and quiet. No reciprocation is ever necessary. Please be masculine and verbal, with no drugs or diseases."

Several robots replied, and perhaps three short emails that seemed real. Cynically, I picked the longest one. He claimed to have a secluded house in Los Altos and he wrote with no spelling mistakes. I replied with my headless photo and he sent back a nearly empty email with only his phone number. Nervously, since I didn't even know his name, I called (with blocking of caller id). The phone rang and then picked up, but all was silent. I timidly said "hello...sir". A deep masculine voice then said, "Right answer. Are you calling about your Craigslist ad?". "yes sir"

He said "You seem to have the attitude I want. We'll find out though. I'm going to make you beg. I'm going to twist you." His voice was so forceful, the way he emphasized "twist you"... He asked me if I "sucked cock", if I "take it in the ass". He asked if I "responded to pain" and if I "had been tied up". His language was crude and direct, but he seemed educated and I felt like he could give me this strange thing I wanted.

It was about a three minute call. It ended after he gave me his address and told me to be there at 3pm the next day. He told me "not to cum before then". I liked that, but it was hard to do since I had a raging erection. I had a tough time sleeping.

His house was in a great neighborhood. I felt out of place just driving there. There was a low hedge along the road, no sidewalk, a two car drive to a detached garage behind the house. The house itself was single level and had a porch that extended along much of the front. The curtains were all closed. I parked a few houses down and walked back, heading up the driveway. I was about ten minutes early, and shaking with excitement and fear.

I stepped on the porch and rang the bell. About 45 seconds later the door opened into a large living room, sparsely and tastefully decorated with hardwood throughou; fresh flowers, bowl of fruit, modern furniture, abstract art. One opening led past a bar, likely to the kitchen. To the other direction was a hallway, darkened.

The man was tall, 6'0", probably about 45, and he looked quite fit. He was barefoot, and wore a tight and fashionable T-shirt and some jeans with elaborate stitching. He was clean shaven, and his blue eyes were like ice that drilled into me. He said "Leave your shoes outside and stand over there." I quickly complied.

He walked over to a the bar and drank from a cocktail glass, just looking at me.

"This is your interview. If I like what I see, then you will return tomorrow afternoon."

I looked up at him, perhaps with a little disappointment.

"Did you cum?" ... "no sir"

"You will cum when I allow it." ... "yes sir", I said quietly.

"You will speak only when I ask you to speak. Clear?" I stood in silence, before mumbling "yes sir".

"Strip." I quickly stripped, putting my clothes in a pile next to me. My cock was sticking straight out. I looked at him, needily.

"Eyes down... Always... or I will hood you."

"Spread your legs." I quickly did. He continued, "Even when you kneel, you will keep your knees and feet spread."

"Put your hands behind your back", and again I complied. "You keep your hands back there unless I put them somewhere else."

I stood, looking at my feet, my cock, and at the floor. I could hear the ice in his drink as he sipped. After a few minutes, he stood and walked, circling me, getting closer.

When he stood directly in front of me, I shivered.

"So you are a cocksucker?" he asked me, his words laced with sarcasm. "yes sir", I replied.

He lifted my chin with his finger, the first time he touched me. "Show me." he said.

I began to look down at him, thinking of what his cock was like. He held out a banana from the fruit bowl instead. Puzzled, I took the banana and looked back up at him.

"Use the banana to show me ... you 'cocksucker'" with a hint of amusement.

He returned to his seat by the bar and turned to watch me.

I felt a bit silly, but peeled the banana and dropped the peel down on the pile of my clothes. I kissed it and started to tongue the tip. I stuck it in my mouth a few inches, pulled it out and licked. I moved it in and out. It was slippery, and I knew this did not look sexy. After only about 15 seconds, the thing started to fall apart. A piece fell on the floor. I looked at him with embarrassment as I just ate the banana.

No smile. He just said "That was terrible."

He stood again, removing his belt. "Eyes down!", and I quickly complied, shaking more than trembling now. He approached me and stepped behind me, saying "Hands overhead! I will give you three strokes. Then you will clean my floor."

The first stroke whistled through the air, but did not connect. I flinched. He was just testing me, but he was really swinging. He swung again, connecting directly across both buttocks. I let out a yelp and stepped forward, quickly stepping back.

He immediately fired again, connecting in the same place. I yelped again. Before I could react, I heard the stroke approach. He hit me again, this time at the top of my legs. I cried out and fell forward, again quickly stepping back.

I quickly got back into position, with my hands behind my back and eyes down.

He stepped directly in front of me. I could smell the whisky on his breath. He calmly said "That was also a terrible performance", but at the same time, he reached out and grabbed the tip of my erect cock. He began to pinch and squeeze, rolling it between his fingers. My knees were weakening as the pain built up more and more. I cried out as his fingernail began biting into the very tip of my penis.

I kept up my wailing, but after a few seconds, he stopped. He swatted my cock, hard, and I let out my last yelp. My cock bounced around before returning to full staff, still as erect as ever.

"That cock is promising, however. There may be some use for you after all.", and as he walked away, he threaded his belt through the loops of his jeans. I watched the muscles in his arms, before looking back at the floor.

I breathed hard, trying to relieve the pain on my ass and on my cock; just trying to calm down.

After a few minutes he spoke calmly. "Return tomorrow at 3 o'clock. You will be on time. You will strip on my porch and put your clothes on the bench there. You will stand in position and wait for me."

That freaked me out a bit, being naked outside, but he interrupted my thoughts saying, "Now clean my floor and get dressed."

I knelt down, taking care to keep my knees wide apart. I ate the lost banana piece off the floor, licking everywhere I thought I saw a little bit. I looked up at him. He said, you may thank me and get dressed.

"Thank you Sir!" and I hurriedly put my clothes on. He watched in silence, taking a sip of his drink. I padded to the door, and as I opened it, I turned around and said "Thank you again Sir", before going outside and getting my shoes on. I looked at the porch and the bench. There was an obvious "X" in blue painters tape directly in front of the door. It was a quiet neighborhood. Maybe...

It hurt a bit to walk, as I made my way quickly back to my car. The crease at the top of my legs was welting up. Sitting in my car was also pretty uncomfortable. My mind was racing with excitement...