Until now, my experience with guys who want to be dominated has nearly always involved a significant amount of advance negotiation. Spontaneous bondage is a rare occurrence for me.
“Hmm . . . okay,” I say. “And what do you want to do with Master?”
“Whatever Master wants,” he replies.
As I’ve said in previous columns, the sub-bottom incapable of articulating his needs is one of the most challenging clients to deal with. Regardless of what he’s willing to say, he’s most likely got quite a specific fantasy in mind.
But if you’re just guessing, the odds of nailing it are going to be slim. You rarely get more than one shot at these things. So if you fail to deliver the first time, it’s unlikely you’ll get a second chance.
Despite the challenge presented by these situations, you gradually develop ways to test the waters and hopefully get as close to your client’s potential desires as you can, without veering too far into the weeds in the process, thereby killing the buzz. I shift a little closer to him and rub his nipples gently through his T-shirt, then grasp them hard and twist.
“You like that boy?”
He jumps a little bit.
“Sir,” he says. “Sir, I need a moment.”
I release his nipples and he exits to the kitchen. I hear drawers opening and closing, followed by the unmistakable sound of some sort of drug being snorted
He returns a minute later, as if nothing has happened and takes his place on the couch next to me. He sits silently, waiting for me to do something. I take his nipples in my fingers again and squeeze. He offers no visible reaction.
I’ve dealt with many clients who take drugs during sessions, both with and without my knowledge. It doesn’t bother me but I always want to know what they’ve done so that if there’s a problem, I can respond in the right way.
“What did you take when you were in the kitchen, boy?”
“Have you done it before, boy?”
“Yes Sir. I do it with sex, Sir.”
“Does it make you feel good?”
“Yes Sir. It helps me relax, Sir.”
Entering into an SM scenario without advance discussion is never a good idea. But doing it when substances are involved is even worse. Aside from not knowing how well he’s able to manage his intake, I also have no idea how it will affect him physically or psychologically.
If you’ve spent any time around people doing cocaine, you’re likely aware it tends to turn them into arrogant assholes. It’s like a temporary ego boost in powdered form. Whatever you believe in the moment is 100 percent right and everyone around you is interested in hearing your opinions.
It’s an odd drug choice for someone intending to be submissive.
He still hasn’t given me any guidelines, so I decide to move forward with baby steps and suggest we relocate to the bedroom.
The bed is covered with a black plastic sheet, with restraints positioned on each corner. A long and low-sitting dresser has an array of different sized dildos, a box of gloves, several bottles of lube and, what I realize after closer inspection, is a collection of different sized metal sounds.
An array like this isn’t normally shocking. But here it stops me in my tracks. A random meeting in a bar that led to me being here — and yet he clearly had this whole setup arranged before he left the house.
Did he go out to the bar hoping to find a spontaneous Master?
There’s also the issue of the sounds. In case you don’t know, sounding as it’s called, is a kind of sex play that involves inserting metal rods into the urethra.
It seems scary at first, but assuming you’re using rods specifically designed for this purpose, it’s actually quite safe. As far as I know, that is. I’ve heard about it before, but up until this point I’ve never experienced it first-hand.
He’s been standing motionless as I’ve been surveying the room, his eyes trained on the floor. He doesn’t give any indication of what he wants to do, but I’m assuming that all of the items laid out are available for inclusion in the scenario.
I grab his nipples again through his T-shirt and twist them hard. He doesn’t flinch, and keeps his eyes on the floor.
“Take off your clothes,” I say.
“Yes Master,” he says and begins unbuckling his jeans.
He doffs his T-shirt to reveal a chubby belly that overflows past his waistband. He slides his jeans off and stands there in his white Fruit of the Loom briefs.
“Everything,” I say, delivering a sharp slap to his ass.
He slides his briefs down to reveal a fat ball sack and cock that’s so big I emit a little gasp when I see it.
I move closer to him, grab his balls and squeeze them hard in my hand. He flinches ever so slightly, but not nearly enough for the amount of pressure I’m imposing.
“There’s a lot of stuff here, boy,” I say. “What would you like to use?”
“Whatever Master wants.”
I release his balls, turn to the dresser and pick up one of the sounds.
“Master would like to use this on you,” I say.
“Yes Master,” he says. “May I go to the kitchen first?”
I nod and he departs to top up his buzz, while I begin lubricating the sound . . .