I’ve recently started chatting to William, who is a mid thirties guy who has no experience with BDSM. He really wants to explore this side of his desires. We’ve had a number of conversations online, and I asked him to document our first telephone conversation – which he has done below. The thing that stood out in our conversation was the comment that while he had an amazing life, and had a loving family and a professional career, and previously had a couple of long term boyfriends, he felt that BDSM was something that was missing from his life. The comment that most impressed me was him saying that he has always been good, but that it was time to explore something for him. He saw being a submissive as something that would make him happy – almost a selfish desire that he felt the time had come to finally unlock. I think he is right.

I like the fact he writes well….so I’ve decided that one of his tasks will be to document his training. I think you’ll be seeing quite a bit more of William on soxster.com. I’m going to be interested to see how far this one goes.

“Good Evening, Sir”

Those were the first words I spoke to Knight and my heart was in my throat as I hung on his reply.

“Good Evening, you’ve had an eventful day haven’t you”.

With that we were away. Several email conversations had gone back and forth over the past few days, of course. Timid introductions, tentative outlining of my hopes, the steady unravelling of my inner-most desires. Yet to hear these first words spill from his mouth, the same place from which I hoped to receive so many orders, it was an epiphany. More spiritual than anything religion could
hope to muster.

His voice was clear and deep. While deep in tone, its depth was more from a confidence, an authority. I had run to the cliff and that voice carried me over.

It had been an eventful day and He knew it. In an earlier conversation I’d been instructed to purchase a few items from a BDSM shop in Collingwood. A jockstrap and butt plug. My instructions on this were clear:

“Pick out a new jock strap for yourself, as well as a new butt plug. Get the largest butt plug you think you will be able to take. And that means large enough that you have to practice to get it in”

As I entered the shop I, my eyes filled with leather, metal, toys, implements – a world of desire unchecked. With a jockstrap selected I sought out the butt plugs. I’d never bought one before – or even used one. Of course I knew what they were for, but from the enormous range and sizes in front of me, even that I had to question.

I quickly found one that I thought would feel great. Slim, conventional, easily accommodated. Everything my sex life had been up till now. Yet I knew this would not please Him. Then my eye caught another. Dark, imposing, a shape that almost hurt to look at. This, I knew, would make my Master pleased. I bought them both.

Eager to show my purchases, once home I quickly arranged all I’d bought on the floor. Without knowing what He preferred, I’d bought a couple of jockstraps. I took a photo and sent them off for His approval.

Happy with my selection, I was instructed to send a photo of myself in the strap, with the smaller butt plug. I was secretly relieved he had not demanded the larger one. I’m sure He knew I would have obliged with the larger if requested, an early sign of compassion from my Master. Though I knew I would have to make this generosity up to him at another time.

“You will be called at seven fifteen”

So I waited patiently for his call… the phone rang.

It was hard to hang onto his words thought the fog of my excitement. I felt like I’d waited my whole life to serve this man. He ran through his expectations, his philosophies how my submission was expected and that it’s extraction would not always be easy.

I had to trust him. Trust that as the sharp sting of hand or leather across my bare arse might reach all that I can handle, trust that the following sensation of caress, ice, metal would be so exquisite to leave memories of utter pleasure the rest of my life.

Like many gay men, my virginity was lost early to an older man in a blaze of disappointment. I never felt the excitement and anticipation of giving, or having taken from me, my virginity. Yet on the other end of the phone was a man promising to take my virginity anew. This would be the real virginity I’d had hidden for so many years. A virginity locked behind chains and leather and only chains and leather would release it.

He would be more than a Master. He was to be my creator. Building from my mundane sexuality a new passion. A sexual fire that would burn brighter than anything I’d known. His was not the process of tearing a sub down, His would be a construction of something daring and new. I wanted nothing more than to be the putty that he would mould and fire into a masterpiece.

I knew this was a man I would obey without question. The thought of his hands wrapping around my wrist and chaining them above me; my legs spread before him in a sling; the sound of his tools as he carefully selects each one to work with; the cold kiss off metal on my smooth tight arse; the hot sting of wax on my shaved balls.

I poured out my secret desires and fantasies. He knew already. He knew I wanted nothing more than to obey, He knew my heart beat faster at the thought of lying back and being fed the hot cream of multiple men. There was nothing I would be able to keep from this man. More importantly though, there was nothing I wanted to.

Eventually He broke off our conversation. A sub was expected and he had to prepare. Yes, I realised again, my Master would be a shared one. But I will serve Him like no other. My balls, cock, arse and soul… all His to command.

We would meet the following Friday, he decided. I will receive instruction a few days out. So I wait, for His instruction, for my rebirth, for my Master.