Making a dominant top my bitch: Part 1

bound stud

Muscle-boy

Like many people who embrace the fetish community, I favor a particular set of scenes yet am open to experiment across the board depending on my ever-changing mood. As any of you who have stumbled across one of my online profiles already know, I identify as a dominant bondage top. Lately, however, I have been leaning towards non-sexual bondage play with men who may not necessarily identify as submissive. My current Recon profile states it best:

I’m currently looking for a local muscular sub who would enjoy meeting on a regular basis for bondage play and consensual SM scenes: Someone who has worked hard to perfect his body and is tired of guys wanting to worship him. I enjoy ropeplay and various degrees of restraint, blindfolds, edging/cum-control, forced workouts, choke/submission holds, nip play, cbt, and spanking/pain administration. I can be gentle or rough, but tend to be passionate rather than mechanical. I’m not mean or degrading by nature so I’m not your man if you are looking for that.

My play does not need to be sexual and is often better when my mind is on my boy rather than my dick – I am more about the mind-play and physical contact than using a man simply to get off. I prefer making a man submit to me rather than simply finding a submissive man: If you understand that concept we will get along just fine.

I received a response last night from a random local boy stating he is a dominant top and has no interest in being fucked, yet has been fantasizing about being overpowered and rendered helpless by an older, larger Daddy. His face is blocked by his phone in all three of his photos but he is sporting a ripped, muscular body, so I sent him my mobile number and instructed him to text me if he was serious. His text came through within a minute and while I learned very little about him, he was saying all the right things such as “Sir” and “please” and “you can do anything as long as you promise not to fuck.” This sounded too good to be true but being the ridiculously reckless person I am, I had him agree to report to me today in … well, in a few minutes. Continue reading

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Bound Muscle

Bound_MuscleI step out to greet one of my buddies, who is here for a bondage session in my new place. I haven’t seen him in six months and as usual, am completed awed by how buff and sexy this guy is: 6’4”, 230 pounds with spiky brown hair and brilliant blue eyes. He is wearing one of those awful Coca-Cola t-shirts everyone and their mother seems to own, but it’ a size too small and shows off his tight pecs, huge shoulders and washboard abs. His cargo shorts are hiding the immense thighs and bubble-butt I’ve seen a dozen times before since we met several years ago.

The scene is always the same: Strip him down, rope him to my bed, and edge him for a few hours until he is begging to be allowed to shoot. He claims to be straight and married and while I doubt he is either, I’ve never pushed him on the subject. One: I understand how important fantasy is for some people. Two: This hot, masculine stud is allowing himself to submit to me, so why the hell should I mind playing along?

That being said, I am in the mood to change things up a bit. I figure: New house, new rules.

He’s always a little shy at first, which I use to my advantage. I walk him into my bedroom and give him 60 seconds to strip down to his underwear, warning him he will receive a paddling for every second he is late. He tears his clothes off within fifteen seconds and stands in front of me, panting a little. He is wearing powder blue Ginch Gonch briefs which look ridiculous on him, but he is tanned and has clearly been kicking ass at the gym, so I keep my opinion to myself. He has shaved what little hair he has from his chest and legs. I prefer hairy guys – I like having chest hair to pull on – but he looks amazing just the same. I tell him to drop to his knees and avert his eyes to the floor. I begin rubbing his huge shoulders, knowing it helps relax him. I confirm that I have him for two hours and remind him of his safeword, which is my name: Enzo. He knows that he can yell and scream all he wants, but that I will assume he is having a great time until he uses my name. Besides, he is well-aware that not referring to me as “Sir” will get him a swat with my paddle, or worse.

I reach into my toy chest and pull out several coils of black rope, a leather blindfold, steel handcuffs, some simple clothes pins and my weapon of choice: A wicked steel paddle encased in black leather. I carefully set each item on the table at the foot of my bed, letting him see what I plan to use. As predicted, his cock begins to swell. Also as predicted, his little briefs don’t stand a chance of containing his 8” monster. I rub my fingers lightly across his stretched briefs, causing both of us to moan. For me, there is nothing hotter than a seemingly perfect, masculine guy submitting to me. It drives me crazy, and makes it hard to stay in character.

Continue reading