Unknown pleasures [True story] - Part 2

And the days went by. Days of monotony, routine, almost forgetting about my first morbid time having sex with strangers. At that moment it was a bomb for me, but the forced daily tasks and routine distracted my attention a lot and I had almost forgotten that I had the contact of a very handsome and morbid stranger, and when I briefly remembered it, I didn't intend to tell him anything; I don't like bothering anyone. So, days later, when I was relaxed and calm at home, with my mind on minor matters, my phone rang. It was a WhatsApp from Albert that came as a pleasant surprise.

- Hello Marcos. How have you been these days?

- Good, at home, not much going on. By the way, I haven't been back there.

- I know.

- Damn, you really have control of the area, don't you? Haha

- You have no idea hahaha - he had a very relaxed tone, contrasting with the authoritarianism of the last time.

- Well, what about you, what's up?

- Nothing, I told you we were going to see each other again.

- I used to go there a lot before because of work, but not anymore and maybe it will be more difficult now.

- Then you'll have to come on purpose.

- Well, it's a possibility.

- I want to see you now, and I want us to meet in an apartment I have near the industrial area.

- At first, I might feel shy.

- It's okay, trust me. Tell me a day.

- Well, let's see, I can't write much now.

Obviously, it wasn't true, but I didn't feel like meeting with a stranger from a cruising in his house. The experience had been fine on neutral ground, but I would return to the industrial area when I had the courage and desire again. Why would I complicate things if I had already gone cruising once and had lost the initial fear? So the idea of such a situation was discarded, I didn't give it much importance. And the days went by and we didn't talk again... until one afternoon at home watching a porn video during one of my jerks, a big, hairy, gray-haired and morbid man appeared who reminded me of him. The image of Albert, which I found infinitely more attractive than the actor's, that night and his words hit my head, reviving sensations that added to the heat I was already feeling in the middle of a jerk. And how I enjoyed it! But... what about Albert? "Hmm, he hasn't replied to my last message, is he upset?" and even though I was sure, I couldn't help but check the chat again. No, he hadn't said anything. So... Why not write and say hello? Although I felt like going cruising again, I actually preferred to see him again. "Hello Albert!", I wrote. But the hours passed, the days passed, and I didn't get a response. Finally, after six long days, on a Friday afternoon, when I thought I wouldn't hear from him again, the phone rang, he had replied to my message!

- Hello Marcos. I hope you're doing well.

- Yes, I thought of you the other day.

- Yeah, yeah. I thought we were going to meet.

- Yeah, I've been a bit busy. But if you want, we can meet.

- I repeat what I told you: trust me. Tell me a day.

- Tomorrow at 3 pm there, where we met last time?

- Okay. I'll see you there.

The tone of his messages seemed terse to me again. It had been almost two weeks since I had kissed that mature man and... "Well, let's see how it goes, he's interested in me again and I like him, let's see." So the next day, I stood at 2:55 pm at the designated place, and I felt nervous again. Was it the place? The situation? That man? I couldn't find an answer, but in the constant flow of thoughts, in a completely empty industrial area on a cold Saturday at noon, all I could think was what the hell I was doing there. Although it was a cruising area, I couldn't see anyone hanging around, and what should have been 10 minutes felt like 30 to me. After a while of waiting, I saw a red Audi A1 approaching me. It was undoubtedly Albert.

He parked about 10 meters from where I was, and I didn't understand why, as there was plenty of space right where I was, in that ghostly industrial area; but without questioning anything, I walked over to greet him. Through the window, I could see he was wearing sunglasses, giving him an even more mysterious air. I approached the driver's window and he lowered it. Without a word, he extended his arm, gestured for me to bring my face even closer, and when I was close enough, he gave me a tremendous slap on the left cheek. Instantly, in a millisecond, my head exploded, like a Big Bang, leaving me completely disconnected from reality.

"You're a slut, I told you I wanted to see you soon. Get in the car."

Calmly, he retracted his arm, rolled up the window, and without saying anything, wondering what he was doing and what that meant, I obeyed without a word. The fear I had felt the previous time was nothing compared to the uncertainty of what might happen next. As I got in, he placed his hand on my thigh and squeezed it tightly. I remained silent and still as he drove towards his house, leaving my car alone in that industrial area.

A few minutes later, we arrived at a thriving town, a beautiful town with history that had become a small city. But parking was incredibly difficult, so he kept driving around until he found a fairly large spot for the volume of cars and the few available spaces there. "He must have parked way far," I thought. But as we got out of the car and he said, "follow me," we turned the corner and I found myself entering the entrance of an apartment building that, although somewhat shabby and old, felt welcoming. We headed to the elevator, him in front and me following behind, and once inside, he pressed the button to go up to the fourth floor; and as we ascended, without a word, he placed his hand on my crotch and squeezed it tightly: "I'm going to make you mine, slut" he said almost whispering with a challenging face. Those words sounded imposing and harsh, fitting perfectly with the demeanor of that rough man. And it made me feel almost protected, although I didn't quite understand what he was awakening in me. But what the hell was I getting myself into? I felt it was too late to turn back (besides, my car was miles away), I felt trapped and enslaved by my actions, which had led me to an unexpected and strange situation, but one that aroused too much curiosity. I had to continue, it was now or never, and as I've always believed that experiences must be lived, any hint of doubt vanished as we reached the fourth floor of that old apartment building.

"Come in," he said as he took the keys from his jacket and opened the door to the apartment on the left of the elevator. Upon entering, he made no effort to show me where the bathroom or bedroom was. I only saw a long sunny hallway with two doors on each side. "Come in here and undress," he said, pointing to the first door on the right as he walked away down the hallway. Inside, the room was completely empty, small and very cold, with four walls and a large window being the only decoration. As I undressed and left my clothes folded haphazardly on the floor, a shiver ran down my spine and legs, a mixture of fear and excitement. I had already committed to moving forward and was fully engaged in that moment, that man, and what might happen; I had opened Pandora's Box.

Once naked and after waiting a while for some kind of comment to address him, I decided to venture into the hallway. A steady voice uttered two words that I involuntarily interpreted almost as a command: "Come here!" Following the sound of his masculine voice, I approached the second door on the right of that narrow though lit hallway. As I entered, I saw the naked torso of a tremendously attractive, masculine, mature, interesting, sexy, and impressive man. His body was well-proportioned, broad and very masculine, with a lot of hair, and his cock was not erect yet, although it still seemed excessive at rest. The room was considerably larger than the previous one but equally desolate and devoid of any decoration; again, four white walls and a window, but this time there were certain elements that piqued my curiosity: a man without clothes, a chair positioned in the center of the room, and a half-opened built-in wardrobe, with a black sports bag inside.

- Sit here - he said, pointing to the chair.

I obeyed, moving slowly and stealthily to the chair, which appeared to me there as the throne of an empty palace. The contact of my buttocks with the wood felt cold so I placed my hands on my thighs, searching improvisationally for some warmth. In front of me, just a few meters away, the completely impersonal wall: a view that contributed to a growing sense of unease. Without averting my eyes from the front, I felt him move behind me and before I realized it, he placed a blindfold over my eyes. The brightness of the white wall was completely eclipsed by absolute darkness. He had stripped me of any sight, removing layers, uncovering what was unnecessary, reaching the deepest, hidden and genuine part of me, so concealed that I hadn't even discovered it myself yet.

Gently, he began to kiss my neck, and as my heart sped up, I felt the warmth of his wet tongue running over my skin, which responded with slight shivers. While he kissed and licked me in an unexpectedly delicate way, he took my hands and brought them behind my back. I didn't resist, I had come to find out what "wild tastes" meant to him, and by this point, I had a very clear idea of what I could expect. I turned my head back, in a futile attempt to see what he was up to, to feel it, perhaps, but logically it was in vain. Next, with my hands clasped behind the back of the chair, I felt a rope passing through my wrists, exerting little pressure at first, which suddenly increased as I felt him tying knots and tightening them. I was naked and helpless in an empty room with a stranger, blindfolded and bound. At that moment, I could only rely on the remaining senses available, so I heightened my sense of touch like never before: I could feel almost every pore of my skin. I was nervous, but I noticed that my cock was growing by the minute, and without stopping kissing my neck, he said:

- I see you're comfortable.

That wasn't the most appropriate expression, I thought, but in his eyes, having a submissive young man responding to stimuli could be an indication of some connection, albeit subtle, albeit fleeting. But indeed it was.

He stopped kissing me, I stopped feeling him. I focused on my hearing, needing to figure out what was happening around me, but once again, it was in vain; I heard steps behind me but couldn't identify what was going on. While still trying to find clues about what he was doing, I felt him move in front of me, spreading his legs between mine, which had been together until then, trying to maintain the little warmth they shared. But his skin was much warmer and the sensation was pleasant, even when I felt his large hands grabbing my balls firmly. At that point, I had surrendered to his will and didn't plan to offer any resistance. It's likely he also noticed, or perhaps had intuited it long before I did, but the feeling of submission and surrender must have been palpable in the air clearly. Meanwhile, he continued squeezing, with increasing force, squeezing my balls, and the pain mixed with excitement, a mix that had hardened my cock... and I couldn't help but start to moan. Almost silent sobs, sounds that he surely caught with pride.

While he continued squeezing my balls, with his other hand he pinched one of my nipples, and the mix of sensations was indescribable, so much so that when I felt him spit in my face, I could only wish for more. There was no turning back, and we both knew it.

He held me like that for a while, squeezing my balls, spitting on my face, and intermittently squeezing both nipples, when suddenly he removed his hand from my chest and I felt him move his hand to my face, spreading his saliva on my cheeks, my mouth, and my beard. And that drove me crazy. The smell, the sensation... All of it was new to me and even though it was easy to figure out, he must have been happy to blindfold a novice to simultaneously reveal him the true essence and identity within. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue in a desperate attempt to taste his saliva, and he indulged in spreading with his fingers and palm what was left of his saliva over my face.

Even with my hands tied and sight darkened, I felt him remove both hands. But I wanted more, don't stop! What was he up to? I couldn't ask many more questions because unexpectedly, I received a strong slap on the face. Then another, and one more which I accepted in silence.

- That's for being late - he said disdainfully.

- I deserved that - I managed to respond, surprised at what I had just said, as if it hadn't come from my mouth, as if another person had said it.

- Don't let it happen again, from now on you will do as I say, otherwise you know what to expect, do you understand?

- Yes Sir, it won't happen again - and I had the strange sensation of being a spectator of a movie where I was the protagonist.

- Very well, I hope so. Now stand up.

I got up from the chair as best I could, still with my hands tied behind my back, and when I was in front of him, before I even realized it, in an almost magical way, he untied me, took me by the shoulders, and bent me down to leave my face at the level of his balls. I couldn't see anything, but I remembered the size from last time. Eating that had to be a delight, I thought, and I didn't take long to find out because without hardly any time to react, he grabbed my head from behind to bring it closer to his dick. As I had imagined, the size of that seemed even larger in my mouth, and although I tried to properly savor that treat, the rough and rhythmic movements he forced me to make made me set aside any desires I might have had to prioritize his own.

And he kept me like that for a while until he let me do it at my own pace. The sound of saliva sliding down my lips and his flesh, colliding with my uvula must have seemed almost pornographic. I moved my head back and forth, time and time again, and just as I began to feel that it was almost automatic... BAM! Another slap in the face. I probably had reddened cheeks, and the cold I had felt minutes ago had long given way to a heat that seemed to emanate from my own body. Unconsciously, driven by desire, I began to touch myself, and almost immediately he removed my hand.

- Did I tell you you could jerk off?

- No.

- No, what?

- No Sir.

- Then don't touch yourself, don't do anything I don't order, damn it - and as it couldn't be otherwise, my act of involuntary disobedience had its punishment in the form of a slap. Now get up and get on your knees on the chair.

- Yes Sir.

He had become serious and I had accepted that he had absolute control over the situation and over me. I just did what he had ordered: I knelt on the chair, with the backrest touching my chest and offering my ass to that dominant male.

- Spread your ass, slut.

- Yes Sir - I whispered, still with the blindfold that prevented any kind of vision, and leaning my chest on the backrest to free my hands, which I brought to my butt to spread my cheeks and make my hole even more visible.

- Nice ass.

- Thank you Sir.

With my butt exposed, he moved away from me and I wondered why, but soon I could hear him rummaging through what I imagined was the sports bag I had seen earlier in the closet.

(to be continued in PART 3 SUBJECT TO ACCEPTANCE OF THE STORY)