Here is Oliver’s write up of the session. He’s only ever been fucked (unsuccessfully) once – so he is pretty new to ass play. We didn’t get much above thirty viewers on Cam4 but that’s still quite a lot when you think about it. He was only visiting Melbourne so hopefully he will find himself back this way and in my sling in the near future. Enjoy the story:
Hi Sir, here is a write-up of my experience with you the other day. Thank you so much for that amazing time. Take care Sir 😀
As far as I was concerned, the session really started a week ago when I said I would refrain from cumming for a week prior to the meeting. This was going to be the start of many “firsts” for me.
Firstly, I have never gone for that long without cumming. I have never played with someone that I had never seen before. Plus I have never been in a video before, especially not a video that was being streamed live over the Internet.
The result was a mixed bag of emotions.
Three days into abstinence, the frustration was beginning to build. One part of me wanted release, the other part of me was gnashing my teeth trying to endure the temptation. In this constant state of denial, it probably didn’t help that i was edging myself and thinking: “Hmm, should I or shouldn’t I?”… Needless to say, the last 4 days seemed long and drawn-out. The constant urge was distracting at work. It was difficult to concentrate on anything. I discovered I was getting hard at incredibly inconvenient and random times. The mere friction generated from my trousers whilst walking around would get me hard. Shifting around in my chair would get me hard. I was getting hard in the most boring meetings. There were times when I wished Sir would cancel on me, just so I could relieve myself ASAP. I’d check my phone almost every hour. And when no cancelling message was forthcoming, I felt a bit cranky from being denied and from having to maintain discipline.
Then there was the fear and paranoia. I realize its incredibly dangerous and reckless to rock up to a complete stranger’s place and put yourself at his mercy without knowing who he is. He might be nuts. He might be an axe-murderer. He might not be safe.
In all seriousness, I cannot justify my behavior. My only (lame?) excuse was that I thought a guy who puts THAT much effort into maintaining a sane and sensible website about kinks and fetishes surely wouldn’t be crazy? But despite my attempted self-justification, there was always still some fear and anxiousness in my mind. This was counter-balanced by the possible thrill of being used by an unseen and unknown stranger.
The actual day of the meeting was the longest day ever. A sales rep spending the entire day explaining a technical product to me was just wasting his time. I don’t remember anything he said and I was barely paying attention. He took a group of us to to dinner and I started getting nervous about the late evening meeting. The fear, paranoia, worry, frustration, distraction, thrill and anticipation was reaching a climax.
When the time came, as ordered, I entered the stairwell and glanced around. A blindfold had been left for me on the ground. My overactive imagination told me I was now entering a stereotypical thriller movie scene where I am about to get killed by a psycho and he’s gonna drag me into the basement and no one will ever hear from me ever again. Suppressing the urge to bolt, I put the blindfold over my eyes.
I heard Sir come down the stairs. I was scared out of my mind.
I don’t recall what Sir first said, but I do recall that his voice was quite deep and calm and seemed to have a hint of amusement. “Oh good”, I thought, “he sounds quite sane”. It’s always reassuring to know you aren’t going to be killed.
I remember being ordered to count slowly to 30 and then make my way up to the apartment. I was to stand with my back to the apartment door with the blindfold over my eyes again. I was almost immediately pulled back into the apartment after putting it on. Still feeling a bit anxious, a plethora of questions and thoughts sprang to mind:
“What is Sir going to do to me?”
“I wonder what does Sir look like?”
“What does Sir’s apartment look like?”
“Where is Sir going to take me?”
“Uh oh, I’m trapped and its too late to run!”
“Does Sir really have a video camera and is Sir really going to broadcast?”
“What style of Master is Sir going to be?”
“I wonder what Sir is thinking.”
“I wonder if people will enjoy the video feed”
“I wonder am I good enough for the audience”
“I am so frustrated right now I might blow in less than 30 seconds and spoil everything.”
Sir pulled a leather hood over my head and began to touch my body. I’m generally sensitive everywhere on my body. Being blindfolded enhanced the sensations. They feel like electric shocks to me. Which is why I’m not a fan of electro-play. Touching is enough sensory overload already.
One by one, Sir slowly peeled off my clothes and asked a few brief questions about my experience (or lack thereof). I remember giving rambling answers because I was still a little nervous. My experience is relatively minimal since I did not live in a major city. Basically I was limited to some light kink experiences. But on rare occasions I did get a chance to play with another Master who was into edging, discipline and strict role play. Which was how I started to love edging. But inside the apartment, I was getting anxious again when Sir started pulling me deeper into the apartment towards the sling. I thought “Oh s**t, this is really happening and I don’t even know who he is…”
I had never been on the sling before and my first impression is that its quite a like a hammock. Except when Sir started to locked my legs into the straps so that they hung up in the air. The feeling changed to being rather vulnerable and exposed with my ass hanging off the end of the sling… And now I literally couldn’t run and Sir was really going to put me on show. Yikes.
Being sensitive to touch combined with a week of no ejaculating made each touch very intense. All I could sense was the pleasure and the frustration of denial. I think that mixture is what makes edging so potent. The first toy that was used was a a ring around my ball sac. I don’t have much loose skin down there (nor anywhere else around my body) and the sensation was a constant aching squeeze and a dull pulling pain. Additional simulation made me quite desperate to cum already. I think the ring helped to stop me from approaching the brink. It was pleasure and torture at the same time.
I think at this time, a viewer said he wanted my stretched balls to be slapped. “Wow, I’m entertaining someone and I’m going to get used by random people online”, I was thrilled. But then, “OMG, Sir going to bust my balls and its gonna hurt”. It was a confusing feeling of wanting to cry and being thrilled at the same time.
Then came the rubber bands. Initially I didn’t know what they were, but the sensation was like bondage for your cock and balls. As more bands were put on, it felt as if it had been squeezed and firmly tied up by thin rope. The most intense part was taking them off. I think a rubber band got a but stuck under the head of the penis. Sir had to be a bit more vigorous in getting it off. That also means he was edging a lot harder. It was slightly painful and intensely pleasurable. If there was such a thing as so much pleasure such that it was tortuous, then this was it. My memory of what happened afterwards becomes a bit blurred after that.
I remember being fingered and having my prostate poked. It was a weird, intrusive, slightly uncomfortable, bowel-movement-like feeling together a slight ache of being stretched. I remember thinking it was rather embarrassing to be examined on the Internet like this and oddly, if this is what a prostate exam feels like, then the visit to the doctor when I hit 40 is going to be really embarrassing. It also crossed my mind that I’m too young to have a prostate exam. So there couldn’t possibly be anything up there that warranted checking-out. I just hope everyone else likes this stuff, because that is the only reason why I can feel good about this. I think I was also edged during this process, but by this stage, I had no idea what my cock was doing since I had lost control of it and it seemed to be doing its own thing, oblivious to what I was feeling.
There were also an intense 5 second jacking-off session, followed by another 10 second session after a short break. It was pure hell. Forcing yourself back from the brink and trying to deny yourself the pleasure of being stroked was torture. Its like being starved and being given a loaf of bread but being told you can’t eat it and if you do eat it, you’re gonna be real sorry… I wanted to cry.
Somewhere along the way, technical difficulties caused the live web feed to stop. Having that webcam operating had the side benefit in that Sir was often preoccupied with the computer. It helped space out each event nicely, giving me time to recover. Otherwise a non-stop series of activity might have driven me crazy and cause me to lose it really fast.
I couldn’t remember much of what happened after the camera glitched-out. I think there was a lot of edging. I’m not sure anymore since I can only recall experiencing sensory overload and being a bit incoherent. I can only remember being very tense and desperate for relief. I wasn’t even sure how much time had already passed. The mental tension was significantly eased when Sir said I could cum if I informed him before hand. A part of my previous experience with another Master unintentionally came into play. With my previous Master, he was rather strict in how he liked to see guys cum. He liked to hear me beg for permission to cum and he would often change his mind and stop. It was a frustratingly evil game. So when I was close, it started to beg to cum, not sure if Sir was actually serious. But since Sir kept going, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I could feel a long stream of cum gushing up the length of my cock. I think it was a lot more than usual since I had abstained for a week.
Now that I wasn’t so desperate anymore, I felt a bit more calm. I started to wonder if I was going to see Sir. But apparently he was serious about keeping the blindfold on until I was out the door. So the only thing I know about Sir is that he was one head taller than myself. I don’t even know who he was. And that was mysteriously exciting even after I left.