The call of the wild

When you are a teenager, you think you are unique in the world, whether in your fortune or your misfortune. When you enter adulthood, you want to be just another one, blending into the mass of prefabricated models. I've always just wanted to be me.

Let's go back. It's not always easy to accept oneself. As a bisexual, I went through my process. As a dominant, it took me a little longer.

This is the story of the relationship that led me to BDSM.

I have character. Contrary to what people think, it's not about being rude or impolite; no self-respecting man would be proud of that. Rather, for me, it's about being clear about what one wants and using the necessary means to achieve it. Achieving things has always been my specialty.

This path of self-discovery begins when you're young and, like everyone else, understanding life as a social contest. Very intuitively, I realized that I wasn't motivated by the same things as others. I needed more.

My turning point came in college. Let's set aside the academic training. I discovered that vice was real and not just one of those things you see in internet videos that we're supposedly supposed to be ashamed of. There I met Manuel. He was gay, and despite his shyness, he spoke openly about his sexuality with other classmates. There was a sense of liberation that I hadn't felt before. Straight guys are more uptight about these topics.

Manuel gave me my first satisfactory blowjob, one of those where you think, "No way, is it really like this?" The female gender does not come out well when facing a true cock sucker, and most gays are just that. From our first time, in the street, at night, and in a hurry, we moved on to regular and furtive encounters. Twice a week, I used his mouth to relieve myself. We never went further nor talked about feelings. It was a fair agreement: I wanted to relieve myself; he swallowed my load.

Over time, I realized that he had fallen in love with me, but it was convenient for me that the relationship didn’t progress. I didn’t like him for that, but he planted the seed that would bloom in the future. My path wasn't conventional. My path was with men like Manuel, compliant, who let themselves be used without asking for anything in return.

Skipping ahead and overlooking several relationships, we arrive at my experience with Miguel. He was the first person with whom I acted as a dominant, though he wasn't exactly submissive.

Let's get to the point. I was in my early twenties and had survived several heartbreaks. I had experienced a bit of everything, from one-night stands to app encounters. I had already decided that, despite being bisexual, I was primarily interested in men, whom I found more hedonistic. And on one of those apps, I found him.

On paper, I loved him. Bear body, hairy, big. A calm person with similar interests to mine. And in sex, compliant. We met for a beer, and ended up at his place. He was the first person with a jockstrap who I fucked. When the moment came, I didn't think twice: I took off the condom, put him on his knees, and came on his face. He didn’t come, nor was there any need for him to.

Soon I realized I had found someone I connected with in many ways and naively thought that included the sexual. Don’t get me wrong, at first I thought I had hit the jackpot, but I was unaware of the depth of my thirst.

A conventional couple like any in a lifetime. Trips, routines, family dinners, future expectations, feelings... we had it all. And in the sexual realm, tyranny. We never talked much about it. I had more appetite than he did and we assumed his role was to satisfy me. A give and take, each of us gained something: I, in practice, had two holes always available; he, making me happy.

Since Miguel didn’t have much libido, he made an effort to please me. With his mouth, he was capable of giving me the perfect blowjob. Rhythm, friction, lots of lubrication. Explosive blowjobs that could revive a dead man. I trained him to squeeze me in different situations. When I wanted to cum before sleeping, for example, I didn’t even have to move. He did everything with the cadence I liked, I came in his mouth, and he swallowed it all to leave it nice and clean. When I wanted to fuck his mouth, he would lie on the floor and relax his jaw as I liked. In any case, he always swallowed it all in the end and almost never came himself.

I've told you that I had already dabbled in this, but I had never had a guinea pig to try my perversions on. I gradually increased the pace. I started by giving him slaps with my cock on his mouth, face, and tongue. I liked hearing the noise of my hard cock hitting him. I moved on to spitting on him and smearing his face while I fucked him. He let me do whatever, and that turned me on so much because when I can, I take advantage.

On a normal day, he would give me a couple of blowjobs, I'd fuck him, always bareback, eat his ass, smell his balls, clean his armpits, and swallow my cum to the last drop. I lived in paradise.

But, because there’s always a but, he didn’t share my fetishes. He didn’t like humiliation, even though our sexual relationship was based on that. My feet, my greatest fetish, left him cold. He would kiss, lick, and massage them, but without enjoyment. We couldn’t even talk about pain, group sex, or so many other kinks... I would have ended up doing many of those things, but I needed a more active response from him.

Now you understand why I say he wasn’t a submissive. His motivation was his love for me and his fear of losing me. While he was compliant, he didn’t come close to my ideal of submission. I wanted someone who enjoyed being at my feet, knowing the luck of sharing a relationship with inequality, being happy as my pet, my pig, my slave.

So, I began to consider leaving him. I must have been crazy because I was about to give up a relationship in which I chose everything (I am obsessed with control) and in which I was treated like a king. Since I didn’t want to leave without being sure, I thought it would be a good idea to try with a real submissive and see the difference. Without remorse for cheating, I talked to many guys, most of them more hedonistic than submissive, until I found the mature guy who wanted me to step on his balls.