Birmingham
This is a sequel to my stories, CrossFit Competitors and Pook and Pete, about two high performing athletes who meet at CrossFit who end up in a passionate relationship. I find sexual literature is more erotic when you know the characters and understand their motivations. For that reason, Chapter 1 of Birmingham sets the stage and plays out the sexual tension that builds between the characters and fuels their sex. If you're looking for cock-grinding in the first paragraph, you probably have the wrong author.
Guys, feedback is a gift and I'd love yours regarding this story. Good or bad, it all helps. Please feel free to email me at psorenson9@hotmail.com. Thank you.
And don't forget to thank Nifty for all these hot stories by donating to them so they can keep them coming. Donate by going to: http://donate.nifty.org/.
Chapter 1
The announcement came on: "Ladies and gentlemen, we are making our final descent into Birmingham. Please make sure your seat belts are fastened, tray tables put away, and seats in the upright position. We will be landing shortly."
How did this happen? I was about to meet a guy I had corresponded with online who would be my "Master" for the next 36 hours, along with his "Assistant Master". Master and I had corresponded extensively online but I had never actually spoken to him. What the fuck am I doing? I'm a former CEO, reasonably happily married (to a woman) and wildly happy in retirement. And I could be fucking it all up just to get tied up, abused, spat on, humiliated, fucked, and god knows what else. And I was rock hard just thinking about it.
I had spent the entire flight to Birmingham reviewing the months of emails between Master and me leading to this moment to hunt for any clues that I might have missed that could spell trouble for me. Did I misread him? Had I rewritten history to my advantage? Was he a serial killer and was I overlooking the obvious clues?
But no, I had been the one to invite myself. I practically begged him to teach me how to be submissive. To own me for two days. In two separate emails I offered myself up to him. The first one, out of the blue, asking him to do this. He cautiously agreed, but then had to renege for logistic reasons. I asked him again, not taking "no" for an answer. He finally agreed and here I was. No, this wasn't a trap. I knew I'd be safe.
But reviewing the months of emails also reminded me of the bigger story. Why I was here, and what my expectations were.
It started in the summer of '21 when I published a story in the Authoritarian and Athletic sections of Nifty. At the heart of the stories were two athletes, one older (me) and one younger who fall in lust while competing against one another in CrossFit. They develop an intensely hot relationship with me being the dom. Although the story was based on real people and a very real mutual attraction, the sex was heavily embellished.
Shortly after my first story was published, my soon-to-be Master reached out to me on email complimenting me on my writing and sharing that he too was a Nifty author and shared my dom tendencies. We got to talking via email and I quickly found him to be an empathetic listener with whom I could easily share my sexual fantasies and frustrations. Although the stories I had written were steaming hot, I myself had had embarrassingly little real world sexual experience with other men, particularly in the Dom/Sub, Daddy/Boi, BDSM worlds. As you might imagine, the e-conversations between Master and me slowly escalated to become increasingly intimate and provocative. And finally, I confessed to him that, although I was the dom in the stories I had written for Nifty, my dirty little secret (as if being gay wasn't enough) was that I fantasized being an unapologetically submissive bottom. The guy who hands himself over to a master. The guy who begs to be treated like a slut. The guy who thrives on humiliation. There, I said it. It felt good getting it off my chest with him, and it feels good again telling you now.
His response was consistently one of support and empathy. Although he, himself, was a forceful dom, he had known others in my situation, and respected their fears enough to factor them into his experience with them. He wasn't trying but he made me want him. Hunger for him. I wanted to submit to him. Completely. Without apology. Without fear.
So via email, thinking `what the fuck', I asked him if he would he be willing to "own" me for 1-2 days if I could make my way to Birmingham. I told him I would be at his mercy. He considered it carefully, shared that he was friends with a guy who was a veteran in the BSDM world who he'd consult with, and then finally agreed to host me. We agreed on a date in September to make this happen. For a variety of reasons, none having to do with my hesitation to go through with it, we postponed it to October, November, and finally the first week of December. That's brings us to right now: "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Birmingham."
Deplaning, I headed straight for baggage claim. I rarely check baggage, but my roller bag was stuffed with toys I promised to bring for Master to use on me....dildos, ass plugs, tit clamps, cock rings, poppers, and more. I didn't want to risk my bag being checked as I went through security so I checked it instead. As I waited for my luggage, I experienced the most diverse set of emotions I ever have simultaneously: Arousal, fear, excitement, anxiety, longing, misgiving, adventure, but most of all raw animal lust. I'd never felt such lust; I was nearly breathless with it. Finally, my bag arrived and, as planned, I called the number Master had given me. He and his assistant, Don, would be waiting for me in the cell phone lot.
I called and he answered almost immediately. "This is really happening" I thought to myself. On the other end of the line was the sexiest "Hello" I had ever heard. I couldn't believe it. It was a porn star "hello." I couldn't even say "hello" back. My first words to him were "My god you have a sexy voice".
I could hear the smile in his voice when he replied, "Why, thank you boi."
We exchanged details about the pick-up and hung up. The car he described pulled up and I hopped in the back as if it were a couple of guys picking up their hunting buddy. But it couldn't have been more different. I was there to be their sexual slave for the next 36 hours. Don was driving and Master was riding shotgun. He turned around in his seat, assessed me, and stated simply, "You'll do nicely."
The ride to the hotel was awkward but my anticipation easily overcame the awkwardness. I didn't care what they thought of me. We all knew why I was there. We all knew I'd be undressed in less than an hour, hopefully on my knees and begging for my Master's mercy. Or at least I hoped I would be.
I so wanted to make physical contact with Master but he was seat-belted in the front seat immediately in front of me, belted in the back seat. But I couldn't stop myself from leaning forward in my seat, grabbing both of his shoulders from the seat behind him, squeezing and saying, "Thank you Master. I'm at your service."
His reply was simple: "Yes you are, boi."
God that voice. It was beyond sexy.
The 30 minute ride was relatively quiet with Master and Don indicating points-of-interest along the way, but I was completely distracted. The only point-of-interest on my mind was my Master's cock. And I knew exactly where I wanted it.
As we were driving Master reminded me that he had bought some equipment to use on me from the Fort Troff website. He had teased me with that info weeks before which led me to study the website and fantasizing what he had bought. There wasn't one thing in that catalogue I wouldn't have happily let him use on me. I begged him to tell me what he had bought for this encounter and he shared it was the bondage bed and blindfold. It was a simple, but very sturdy bed with hand and arm restraints in the appropriate corners.
I'm glad I brought up the subject because it prompted him to tell me what I should expect for the next 36 hours. "Tonight is dress rehearsal for tomorrow night", he stated. "Tonight, you'll be restrained and Don and I will test your limits. We will take you as only as far as you can endure, but we WILL take you that far."
He continued, "Tomorrow night is the orgy. I've invited my friends and told them about the athletic stud I have for them to use in any way they want. By that time, Don and I will know your limits so I promise you won't be taken beyond them. But expect both pain and pleasure. You don't want to disappoint my friends, do you boi?"
I could barely breathe I was so turned on. I took a breath and replied as quickly and respectfully as I could, "No sir. I want to make you proud."
"Good boi", Master replied.
We arrived at the hotel, unpacked the car and I checked us in. As requested, we had a full suite with a detached living area in one room and a king bed in the other. I knew if three of us would be spending the better part of 36 hours in a hotel room, there had better be room to move around.
We each had brought up our roller bags, but any "equipment" from Fort Troff was conspicuously absent. Just when that occurred to me, Master threw Don's keys at me and ordered me to bring up the bondage bed from his trunk. He warned me it was heavy and cumbersome and seemed to enjoy the fact that I'd have to bring it up without either of their help. I was being commanded to fetch the primary instrument of my torture which made me even harder.
I returned with the bed without issue and found them standing in the room, side-by-side, clearly waiting for me. Master said, "Put the bed on the floor in the other room and then come back here." I obeyed Master's order and walked up to them. They clearly had choreographed this scene as Don moved behind me and pressed against me. Master stood face to face with me, took me in his arms, and leaned down for a passionate kiss. I felt like I was kissing "the voice" and it was unimaginably sexy. As I was melting into my Master's arms, Don was busy undoing my belt and sliding my pants down my legs. As he was pulling them over my feet, Master lifted my shirt over my arms, which left me in nothing but the red and black Nasty Pig jockstrap Master had ordered me to wear when we met. Master ordered me to walk to the other side of the room so he and Don could assess their prize. They talked quietly between themselves, seeming to nod in approval, but occasionally indicating my potential shortcomings. The scene was wildly humiliating. A former CEO, stripped to a jockstrap, being evaluated by two of his peers. My cock was so hard it began to peek out of the top of the jockstrap. At just that point, Master said, "Come over here boi", and pointed to where he and Don were standing.
When I got to their side of the room, Don backed away and Master grabbed my arm, twisted it behind my back with one hand and, standing behind my back, took his other hand and fiercely grabbed the pouch of my jockstrap. I'd never been hit so hard in the nuts before and I screamed with pain. Master leaned his mouth into my ear, and with the sexiest voice imaginable, stage-whispered, "Listen cunt. I'm going to do whatever the fuck I want to you. That's what you signed up for, so be ready. I learned now your nuts are sensitive so I'll be careful. But there's a lot more where that came from. You're not getting off easy."
I breathed a sigh of relief, but he continued, "Don, on your knees and give our boi a taste of what's coming his way." With that, Don stepped up to me, dropped to his knees and tongue-bathed my jock strap until it was as wet as if I had showered in it. He produced so much saliva and licked the fabric with such passion that I begged him to stop. I knew if I came so early into our encounter I'd have little left for when the real action started. Knowing how close I was getting, Master, who was still holding me closely from the back with one arm pinned, took his other hand, grabbed my nipple hard and said, "This will keep you from cumming, bitch." He pinched my nip harder than I'd ever had felt, which resulted in the second scream of pain, just minutes after the first.
I slumped into my Master's arms, resigned to what was happening. Don sensed I was close to and let up on the intensity of his slurping. Finally, the scene wound down and Master turned me to face him. He held my face with his hands and whispered to me, "You're off to a good start boi. We've just scratched the surface, but you're nice and warmed up for us. It's time to go downstairs for drinks and dinner, and then back here for our first night with you. Get dressed and let's go."
I murmured, "Thank you, sir" and he nodded.
End of Chapter 1.