Conflicted Affirmation

Prologue to this poem.

The Submissive Bondage Fetish, is a powerful craving that I actually have, and have been actively, and willingly, engaging in , whenever possible, for several decades.

It's something that I personally crave, and believe it or not, thoroughly enjoy.
I've actually experienced everything in this poem, as well many other, kinky, similarly related, fetishes.
Many of these are very, stigmatized, social taboos, just like masturbation.
After initially having each of them forced upon me during sessions like the one described in this poem, I've found that I actually enjoy several of them, and am constantly seeking out similarly minded individuals for shared insights as well as potential play opportunities.
These things are very real, and much more common than you might expect.
And believe it or not, none of them will make you go blind!

In this poem I've included just some of the many conflicted rationalizations that swirl through the mind of the, submissive, restrained person involved in one of these very emotionally charged sessions.
It should also be noted, this isn't just a gay fetish activity. It's also very common amongst straights, and is well suited to bisexuals like myself, who are experienced at it, truly know what any given session might entail, and who are completely comfortable having sex with people of either gender, or even of both genders at once.

I have no problem at all talking about it, so later on, if you have questions, please, just pull me aside, and ask.

Conflicted Affirmation

Chapter 1
Fetishes. Everyone has at least one, some have many more.
I have one that compels me,
To act the shameless whore.
Some fetishes are harmless, are tried, and then easily put to rest.
Mine isn't so innocuous.
I crave being stripped, bound, and casually used for sex.

It goes by many names,
Gay bondage, gay rape, BDSM, gigolo, or prostitute, Just to name a few.
But regardless of the label that you use.
It involves my being naked, chained,
And then doing anything and everything, that I'm ordered to.

It involves my perceived, self-worth.
And is less about the sex,
Than it is about pleasing others.
To convince myself that I am indeed,
A considerate, skillful, and desirable lover.

But I also must confess,
That it involves an incredible adrenaline rush,
Heightened senses, fear, uncertainty,
An adventurous thrill like no other.
Oh yes, I get something from it too,
Or why else would I bother?

Does anyone out there find me cute, sexy, erotic?
Why am I so willing, to try things, to willingly submit?
And be so really, really naughty?
I'm doing so many things,
Just to satisfy this need.
So much more than what is prudent.
Is it perhaps acceptance that I seek?

How much is in my conscious mind?
How much more yet lies below?
I honestly don't know,
But it is a very real obsession.
One that I only too well know.

Just what is it that I'm really seeking?
To be softly kissed, and caressed with gentle foreplay?
Or just hard fucked in my ass & mouth,
Like some trashy, cheap, paid whore?
Who can really know?

It's all part of the chase, circuitous, surprising, and risky.
So many half-truths and deceptions,
Lies all, both suggestive, tart, & frisky.
Living pornography and smut.
It's surely nothing new,
I'd prefer to not be such a slut,
Or such a easy, willing screw.

Is that why I crave the things that I truly love to do?
To be helpless, shackled, and blindfolded, Securely bound, and exhibited in the nude.
And then get spanked, whipped, and fucked for all the world to see.
While letting horny, unknown strangers, piss and cum all over me.

I love everything about bondage and submission,
Be it for men, women, or even groups.
To be filmed, disciplined, degraded, and debased.
Giving any sexual service, and almost always in the nude.
And as you're just now learning,
I'm certainly no prude.

To satisfy each and every Jane or John,
Offering unconditional submission.
Is it really this conflicted affirmation that I seek?
Or just a willing host, for another round of lusty sex?

Or am I on some yet unknown mission?
Lord knows what I'll be trying next,
I know I like it at the hands,
Of someone, bitchy, tough, and mean?

But regardless of my motives here,
This fetish is very much my passion.
Am I perverted, inquisitive, or just a bit obscene?

No, he wasn't gorgeous,
But the appeal sure was there.
A wicked gleam in his eye,
Greedy lust in his stare.

I found him hot, forceful, attractive.
But was it really wise to volunteer,
To become his naked, chained up captive?
His helpless, submissive, willing dungeon toy,
For a day of lusty sexual use,
His faceless boy fuck toy.

Naked and in hand cuffs,
He walked me downstairs to his dungeon,
And chuckled as he said,
Boy, here's where you'll lick my ass,
And where you'll feel my massive cock,
Become a pounding bludgeon.

He then attached the heavy leather cuffs,
Securely around each wrist.
And the black slave collar to announce,
His obedient, oh so willing new conquest.

Heavy chains fixed on each wrist,
As he winched both my arms out wide.
Making me his certified, helpless prisoner,
Where my limits would now be tried.

His dungeon was impressive.
So much leather, rope, and steel,
Racks showing all kinds of tools,
For imposing discipline and fear.
Shelves full of floggers, whips, belts crops & canes,
And lot's of strange looking steel, medieval like devices,
I couldn't even say their names.
It all made me ask myself,
Was I perhaps a bit insane?

But my adrenaline was flowing,
My senses heightened and alive.
I had no way of knowing,
But it was all incredibly arousing.
And so far at least, I liked where this was going.

He then clipped chains to my collar,
And laid me flat upon my back.
Prone, and tightly bound, upon his narrow rimming rack.
Apparently for this first part, he wanted me to see,
As he stood there naked, straight above, looking coldly down on me.

He positioned his ass cheeks, just above my helpless face.
Lowered his ass hole to my mouth, and said while sounding mean.
"Slave, now slip your tongue up in my butt, and proceed to lick me clean".

His ass was pressed against my face, my nose literally up his butt.
He'd spread his ass cheeks way apart,
I'd suffocate if they slammed shut.
He laid his testicles, heavily upon my chin,
And said "OK now slut get to it"
Giving me the perfect vantage point,
To slide my tongue right in and do it.

His ass hole was smooth, and sensitive to boot.
Easy to lick in circles, and then slip even further up his shoot.
It was smooth, shiny, quivering and pink.
A lot like licking pussy, cept for a tiny bit more stink.
Mine to tease and toy with,
I could lick this in my sleep.

He enjoyed this top position, sitting on my face.
So I just kept right on, licking in his butt.
Ever struggling as I tired,
To maintain the proper licking pace.

It seemed like forever,
The time I spent probing up his hole.
But he seemed satisfied and pleased to see,
How well this slave was taking to his new role.

As my tongue became exhausted, fear started setting in,
What If I couldn't last?
What If I failed at this very, first, menial task?
What punishment would he impose?
Just how would he react?

But before my tongue gave out completely,
He raised up, and started preparing,
The next imposing chapter,
Of this slut's obedience training.

He then repositioned me, for the next part of my use.

Chained and bending, across his padded spanking horse.
Wrists and ankles both securely fixed in place.
Legs spread wide apart, apprehension showing on my face.
My ass & crotch projecting out one end,
My head and willing mouth, available at the other,

Securely restrained and positioned here,
Waiting and immobile, positioned just for giving pleasure.
He then cinched the heavy, leather bondage hood, tightly on my head.
Was this a good thing? Or something I should dread?

Just one single, large opening at my mouth,
No consideration here for sight.
This was a truly helpless, vulnerable pose,
He could now do anything he liked.

A myriad of scary things,
Swirled through my frightened brain.
I could have avoided this, was I just desperate,
Horny, moving a bit too fast?
Or perhaps I just wanted desperately,
For some stud to fuck me in the ass.

But such ponderings were rudely interrupted,
By his cane, wickedly whipping across my butt.
He now had my full attention, my reaction one of fear,
He was amused by his squirming, whimpering, helpless whore.
And also by the bright, cherry red stripe,
That he'd just painted across my helpless rear.

So just to further his amusement,
He caned my ass, hard, nine times more.
I strained and tested my restraints,
But each one of them held fast.

Oh my god that hurt!
My anxiety had turned to fear.
This brutal whipping was extreme.
How much longer could it last?

The sudden pain is alarming, brutal, and intense.
Each successive, lashing, sent pain streaking to my brain.
My mind had been day dreaming,
But was brought back rudely to present tense.

I thought, why am I being whipped?
I've committed no offense.
I've done precisely as he's asked,
Given him my total obedience.
Even my naked presence here,
Does any of this make sense?

All the decisions are his now,
It's not about consensus.
It's now just about his lust for power,
And me, servicing his penis.

When, suddenly his interest changes,
He's now focused on my mouth.
He's moved around his helpless, bent over slave,
He grabs my head firmly, like a vice.
And Shoves his hard cock down my throat,
Once, and then again, twice.

I sense he's getting pleasure, from my sudden, gagging.
Am I just another conquest, a topic for future bragging?
I'll never know, I'm not in control now,
I have less say than I have sight.
He has the power now, to use my helpless,
Naked body, in any, kinky way he likes.

If he likes this, it could last for hours,
If he has the stamina, it could even go all night!
Blinded now in chains, I can only submit, and obey.
What else will he force me to do?
By the end of this long day?

So with my tongue, mouth, and lips
I suck and caress the head of his large, swelling dick.
Until he forces it in further,
Pushing the head past my lips, deep into my throat.
Pushing in hard, just as far as it can go.

And then just sits and parks it there.
And sadistically waits, and gloats.
He relishes, forcing this captive, cock sucking fag.
To swallow every inch of his huge, ten inch cock,
And drool, choke, and gag.

I have a safe word,
I could use it if I chose.
But instead, I put it out of my mind,
Why, who could possibly know?

Is it because I prefer the fantasy,
The scene, the illusion.
All the time bracing
For the inevitable, hard, anal intrusion.

I know he plans it, why should he not go there?
I told him to, that it was something that I liked.
It's certainly no more brutal, than making me choke on his 10 inch spike.
But for now, my only option is to keep deep throating his huge dick.

He's starting to really like it, stroking faster than before.
It seems that he's enjoying, face fucking,
This captive, submissive, naked, whore.
I had hoped for someone dominant.
And ideally one well hung.
I now had to remind myself,
Be careful what you ask for.

I was also scared and wondering,
Can I physically take that fucking monster?
When he slips it in my ass,
And then drives it up my bung?

I'm bound, exposed, my all, just stuck out there,
Freely available for him to use.
Any supposed relationship,
Is just an illusion, a fantasy, a ruse.
How did I get here?
This hurts! It's painful, dumb.
I thought it would sensuous, erotic, and fun.

I can't help but wonder,
Did I perhaps go a bit too far?
Will this craving eventually hurt me?
Should I have stayed out in the car?
His goal seems to be, to make me red and sore.
I can't but wonder, what else is yet in store?

Perhaps what he likes is the control,
The sex, the knowing.
That whatever kinky whim he's feeling,
That's where he'll next be going.
As he slaps my face hard with his cock.
Sexual climax right there, anytime his to take,
An available, warm willing ass, his to spank, fuck, or otherwise penetrate.

He knows I am the slut who will eventually, soften his throbbing rock.
The method of release is totally his to decide.
Will it be in my mouth, up my ass?
Or will he just leave his sticky cum, all over my outsides?

I recall my uncertainty,
Is what I'm doing wise?
I'm questioning my judgment,
As he gropes my penis & testicles,
Then spreads wide my naked thighs.

Apparently he foresees a need for quiet, less noise.
Why else would he gag me now?
Has he learned this from past boys?
This course, cloth gag, my newest, drooling taste,
It's also closed the only chance,
That I could have used to communicate.

Any chance to use my safe word, has now disappeared.
There's absolutely nothing I can do now,
But wait until he's ready,
And then take it hard up up my helpless rear!

It's reflexive, the tension,
The alarm, anticipation, fear.
Just what does he soon plan?
To shove up into my rear?

What is it that he's planning?
That's sure to make me try and scream?
Is it just a plain old hard ass fucking?
Or something else, some brutal, bloody ream?
Perhaps something tortuous,
Huge, painful, and mean.

He apparently got bored
With me just rimming, and sucking on his cock.
So just what is he planning for me next?
Towards getting his rocks off?

I'm sure that he's aroused,
A horny, passionate demon.
His testicles heavily loaded,
Filled with fresh warm sperm & semen.
I could feel their heavy fullness
As they bounced heavily on my chin.
It's Just a matter of time now,
Before he jams his hard cock in.

But it seems that my ass fucking,
Will have to wait till some later time,
Because now that I'm bending, ass exposed,
Hooded chained & gagged.
He has other, more pressing things to do.

He's just walked away, and left me here alone,
I could hear the receding footsteps,
Up the stairs, and then out the door to who knows where.
His car starting up outside, and pulling out the drive.

This is a truly scary feeling.
One you never anticipate or expect.
Chained up, gagged and hooded.
Alone, nothing to do but wait.
Unable to even move, or scratch,
Totally immobilized, and available for anyone to use.
All senses cept your hearing,
Totally muted out.

Apparently, the pleasures that I'm offering,
He doesn't appreciate.
So now my only option,
Is to lay here, all alone, chained, hooded, shivering, gagged, and naked.
And just wait, and wait, and wait!

Chapter 2

Left all alone here in his basement dungeon.
The waiting has been torture,
Hooded, gagged, and immobile.
Naked, but for this full leather, bondage hood.
Chained atop this cold, padded, spanking horse.
Legs held apart, crotch dangling and exposed.
Wrists shackled to cleats screwed to the floor,
I can't even itch my nose.

I'm cold here and anxious,
My enthusiasm drained.
Left all alone here in silence,
Muscles aching, and in pain.

Has he forgotten that I'm here?
Where the hell can he be?
Is he even still here at home?
Or away on some silly shopping spree?

If and When I finally do hear footsteps,
How will I know if it's even him?
Or has he whored me out to other men,
Who'll just stop by, and stick it in?
Tear off a quick fuck or blow job,
And walk away, with their cum left dripping off my chin.
The absurdity of this risky situation.
Is just now sinking in.

Why do I even worry, there's nothing I can do.
With all senses cept my hearing,
Totally blocked out.
Every sound seems amplified,
The tiniest pin drop, echoes like a falling rock.

The furnace, or the outside traffic,
Ambient noise as camouflage.
When he finally does return,
Will I hear his steps at all?
Will he be coming in alone?

Or will he send in someone else?
I've no way of knowing who next joins me here.
But I'm sure praying that soon someone does,
Preferably someone horny, and queer.

Several times I'm sure I hear it.
A car pulling in, an arrival, a closing door.
But then no footsteps or other noises.
Just the same background sounds as before.

Just more of my imagination.
Wishful thinking, perhaps just wanting company.
But it appears that there's no interest now,
In using, what I'm offering up for free.

The minutes seem like hours.
Increments of time impossible to meter.
What if he's in a wreck?
No one else knows that I'm here.

As time inexorably ticks away.
Anxiety turns to fear.
Then to impatient resignation.
How long can I last down here?
With no other options, I try to just relax.

Just as I might be nodding off,
Something unthinkable, shatters my mental state!
A mysterious, light touch upon my inner thigh.
Like a sucked punch from the night!
Coming from out of nowhere!
like an unexpected lightning bolt,
Shooting straight to my brain.
Is it pleasure, or abstract fright?

Oh my god! How long has he been there?
There it is again, someone really is behind me,
It's not my imagination, a sensuous, timid touch?
Who the hell wandered in, without making any noise?

Is he shocked to find me here this way?
A helpless, sightless, naked man, bent, positioned just for sex.
Oh my god, who is there, and what will he do next?

He's standing right behind me, if I could only see?
How is it possible, that I didn't know?
How long has he been just standing there, quietly studying me?
Why is he in this house at all?
Why hasn't he offered to set me free?

He first tested my reaction,
A gentle notice, to alert me he was there.
Now he's verified, that I'm truly blind, gagged, and helpless.
Is he bothered by my situation, does he even care?

Or has he recognized an opportunity?
To perhaps explore some secret, gay fantasy?
If so, he can so easily do it now,
He can do and try, anything he likes.
And best of all, it's anonymous and free.

Groping another man, sucking on his cock.
Or maybe even butt fucking this slut, ohh, he could do a lot!
It's totally anonymous, no one will ever know.
No one here will see his face.
Especially this naked ho.

Just where will his explorations go, with this naked slut?
He hasn't asked me if I'm ok, or if I need released.
I'm thinking he has other plans,
In barely an instant, my pulse surges with the fright.
For all this time I just knew I'd been alone.
How else was I not right?

Who and what will happen next.
My mind is reeling, ready to explode,
Desperately trying to reassess.
But with so many senses muted,
There's just no way to know.

I hear heavy breathing now,
Deep, and kind of rough.
I'm assuming it's a man back there,
But I honestly just don't know enough.

Next a hand that feels somewhat large, and strong,
Reaches in from behind, and firmly grabs my testicles.
And then explores my cock in kind.
He's taking pleasure from his find.

He's amused, and gingerly fondling me now,
Probably just because he can.
Perhaps this is the first time ever,
That he's had the chance to grope another man?
Then he uses both hands, stroking as he yanks.
The knowing way he strokes my cock,
Oh ya, I'm thinking it's a man.

More sounds there in the background,
Something's being picked up off a shelf.
Footsteps coming back around.
More quiet, muted noises near.
The sounds of someone undressing.
A zipper opening, clothes dropping to the floor.
I want desperately to know what's coming,
But dammit, it's just not clear.

Then suddenly it happens,
The inevitable notice.