ACCEPTING HUMILIATION (Part 2)

The entrance was from an old theater, it had a small ramp that ended in a ticket booth. I imagine that in its heyday this theater must have been like many others in the city center, a meeting place for high society where world literature plays were staged or films from other parts of the world were projected; until the country fell into disgrace, the affluent classes left the center and many theaters disappeared; others, like this one, have managed to withstand the passage of time by switching to showing pornography for heterosexuals. In that entrance ramp, long lines would form to see zarzuelas, operas, the attire had to be elegant, the walls clean and the ads very different from the crude pornographic posters that now occupy the walls. I climbed the now empty ramp and rang the bell on the counter. A piece of cardboard was moved and on the other side of the golden gate appeared a woman about 60 years old, with a bad attitude who said - $14,000 (approximately 3 dollars). I paid and a man about 70 years old opened a door made of the same golden gate from the ticket booth. I imagined that the man must be the woman's husband and time has molded the same expression on their faces. The man took the ticket that the woman had given me and pointed with his index finger in one direction while saying, -bathrooms- and then pointing his finger in another direction, -theater-. Following the same order, I entered the bathroom, there were two stalls with urinals and a stall with a door, it smelled of urine. I peed and then headed to the theater.

On the giant screen, a heterosexual pornography film was being projected, two young women were sucking an older man's cock. In the chairs, a few people were seated and at the back of the theater, where I was, some men were standing. I walked down the central aisle almost reaching the screen, whose light dazzled my vision and made it difficult to see clearly what was happening in the dark theater, I could barely make out the silhouettes of the few heads of those seated. Then I crossed to the right and then returned along the aisle at that end of the theater. As I walked backward towards the screen, its light allowed me to see how two men sitting side by side were touching each other's cocks while murmuring something to each other; far away, at the other end of the theater, I noticed a sexual movement and saw a man sodomizing another while three others, standing, watched just a couple of meters away. I readjusted my cock in my pants, it was incredibly hard and big. I walked a little further up and sat in one of the many unoccupied chairs, right next to the aisle that led to the right wall of the theater, and as I sat down, I felt my knees shake, bringing me back to reality and making me aware of how nervous I was. The whole time as I walked and observed, I did it as if in a kind of trance, excited, seeking without knowing what, but seeking. I saw a man walking down the central aisle looking for the exit of the theater, I followed him with my gaze, twisting my neck to be able to look back, when he left, I saw a shadow detach from the rear of the theater and start walking down the aisle, in the direction where I was. A drop of sweat ran down my forehead and I decided to watch the screen while my cock moved inside my pants.

I couldn't see the man approaching anymore and I felt very excited and very nervous, I didn't know which of the two feelings was dominating my psyche when I felt a strong presence next to me, I felt his warmth and I lifted my face to look at his. He was a man around 65 years old, maybe, short beard, strong features, short black hair, his face gave the feeling of being firm and rigid despite the multiple wrinkles. When I raised my gaze, I managed to notice a large body, abdomen with a slightly protruding belly, broad back and strong chest. As soon as we made eye contact, he raised his eyebrows and moved his chin slightly up, with a completely serious and inquisitive expression. He combined those gestures by touching with his left hand his package over the pants, which made me lower my gaze but then raise it again, confused, agitated, excited, vulnerable. As I searched his eyes again, they were fixed on his belt, button and zipper, and before I could think of anything, his hot cock was very, very close to my face. I said his hot cock because indeed, at the moment he opened his pants, he put his hand between his briefs and pulled out his entire package of cock and balls, my face received a slap of heat accompanied by the smell that this gentleman kept between his legs. The heat stuck to my face and the scent to my psyche, it smelled clean but not of soap, it was the smell of warm skin, thick sweat, male groin, it was that smell that accumulates where the testicles rub against the legs, in that masculine fold where about 25 minutes later my nose would be pressed, with my head buried there, feeling how the hands of more than one man pushed it towards that smell and at the same time feeling several jets of semen fall on my face. How? Wait... this had not happened, but it was about to happen.

The slap of hot smell hit my face and my eyes finally met his. He raised his eyebrows and chin again, looked at his cock, looked at my eyes and with his eyes marked a path between my face and his phallus while raising this time, a single eyebrow. I looked at his cock, looked at his eyes, and his expression repeated exactly, he marked the path with his eyes between my face and his masculinity again. My mind seemed to be split in two, one part worked very slowly and wanted to open my mouth and approach following the path his eyes had marked; the other part of my mind jumped frantically between the memory of my father and the many times he had told me how proud he was of me, and the uncontrollable desire to kneel down and serve. My mind jumped between the memory of me speaking before an audience and hearing their applause and the uncontrollable desire to kneel down and serve, it wasn't about putting my knees on the ground, it was about throwing myself on the floor on my knees, a big difference and a great importance of language. My father's proud son, my teachers' student, my colleagues' friend would put their knees on the ground but that being who was being born at that moment in that seat of an old run-down porn theater a few centimeters from a man's eager cock to be served, could only throw himself on the floor on his knees to serve, to serve, the same thought that made my cock grow big just before going into the theater, when I was thinking about the image of that young man in the advertisement. I remembered how I felt he must be happy for having served, for having given himself. The man repeated the route that with his eyes he indicated where my face should be directed, but this time his left hand left his crotch and positioned on my nape, closing his fingers in my hair, grabbing me with force as he forced me to look at him to once again make the journey with his eyes adding an expression of ultimatum that perfectly combined by tightening his hand in my hair and pushing just a little my face towards his virility.

That ultimatum that I perceived in his gaze made me think that if I didn't immediately start sucking his cock without opposing, two things could happen, either he would force me to do it or he would put away the package and leave, and then two thoughts came to my mind, first a very strong fear that he would choose the second option and leave, and second, an almost violent desire to be forced to do it. To prevent him from leaving, I allowed his hand to push my head towards his hot and sweaty phallus but only a little, as if playing yes and no, measuring the desire to want to be forced, opposing but yielding, letting each time his strength push my mouth towards his true reason for being, letting his masculine strength push my mind towards its destiny. Every millimeter my face approached his purpose in life, my mind understood why my cock hadn't stopped growing in my pants since I imagined the young man in the advertisement being happy to be serving others, every millimeter was to understand that many years of my life had been wasted by not having been able to be used by many, every millimeter was to understand that nothing would ever make me feel more excited and fulfilled than serving, serving others, before myself. That which my father would never accept in me, not giving myself my own importance, yielding to others.

My mind was about to explode, my cock too, but none of that mattered; what mattered was the pleasure that was going to help that stranger feel, who since he arrived acted as if he was my owner, knowing his rights over me, smelling his superiority and my inferiority and when these two concepts joined with that of servility, I couldn't take it anymore, it's as if many puzzle pieces had always been present in my life but had never come together forming a whole, this time the pieces came together and I understood that I had to be inferior to other men to be able to serve them from there. Inferiority and servility, everything that my father, family, friends, colleagues, teachers had been teaching me for years not to accept, was what was filling my existence at that moment. All that constant feeling of dissatisfaction in my life was disappearing and I felt complete, fulfilled, as if I had found my true reason for being, for existing.

His hand pushed harder and my nose touched the hairs of his belly and his hand kept pushing and my nose ended up pressed in that fold we have already talked about and there he plunged me until I had to let in through my nose a large gulp of air that was missing me constricted and what entered was not just air, it was his smell, it was his superiority over me, his strong masculinity and my weak servility; the understanding of the place that from that day on, I had to occupy in society entered through my nostrils. Lying on my knees on the floor of a den, waiting to be used, waiting to serve. When I had absorbed that whole gulp of reality, he tightened his hand in my hair forcing me to raise my face and look him directly in the eyes, he lowered his face and kissed me while squeezing his hand even more, making it hurt quite a bit and causing me to put my hand on top of his just to feel him squeeze harder and move forcefully making my head move with it, he stopped kissing me but didn't move his face away, he let go of his hand and said while directing his gaze at the tip of his cock: - Until the last drop -