tagGay MaleThe Hanky Code Pt. 01: Winning

The Hanky Code Pt. 01: Winning


I strolled down Folsom street heading towards one of the better known gay S&M stores nestled in the heart of San Francisco. Though I had no idea what the weekend held in store for me, I found myself nonetheless excited to be visiting again and yet, just beneath that electric excitement was a sense of nervousness about entering a gay adult shop.

I was after some poppers, some must have lube and finally a new butt plug to replace the last one I'd thrown away in a fit of guilt. I wanted to enjoy the shop, then relax over a beer or two before retiring to the hotel room to enjoy working on getting the on the new plug fully inserted into me for the first time.

I found myself standing before the doors to the shop, so lost in my thoughts I hadn't realized how brief the walk was. A shiver of anticipation and self-consciousness ran down my spine as I opened the doors and stepped inside to hand my backpack to the store clerk behind the counter. They don't want people stealing merchandise.

Ah, but I am getting ahead of myself. An introduction is in order, on the surface of things, I might seem like an unassuming sort of fellow. A straight-looking and acting married man who likes to take make the most of business trips half-way across the world in order to indulge in my proclivities without any prying eyes to see my dirty inclinations. You'd think being 48 and married with children that I would be a bit vanilla, but there is a dark side that I have a burning need to entertain as I travel the world for work. My primary interests lie with fetishes: professional Femme Dommes for instance, latex, and anal. What got me started with anal in particular was finding some gay leather magazines when I was at college some 30 years ago. Although I'd already begun to explore using a range different household objects to fill my asshole as a teen. I became an avid reader of the magazines during my college days. The exciting new images flooding my fantasies then and to this day: hoods, funnels, nipple clamps, butt plugs, and when I tried them for the first-time after what seemed far too long a time to wait - I was helplessly and wantonly desperate to explore even more of this hedonistic path I now still follow.


As I began this journey of alternate sexuality it was the early '90's - well before internet porn was available. Google hadn't even been started, Yahoo didn't come on the scene until 1994, in those early years all you could do was buy the right magazines which were all laid out in full technicolor in adult bookstores. I was looking through the myriad of magazines and I came across a new one I had yet to see called "Serious Mistresses." My interest was piqued completely and absolutely. I thumbed through the sleek pages, my heart thumped with anticipation. My eyes came to rest on a number for a local dominatrix who called herself Mistress Cruella (yes, really) and offered domination sessions.

I quickly jotted the number down and made my way to a phone to give this Mistress a ring. I was delighted to hear the sweet seductive voice of a well-spoken woman who, after brief introductions, asked me what my interests were. I felt like a tongue tied kid and clumsily stammered out my confession that I truly did not know much about domination - only that I wanted to be dominated by a woman and was interested in anal being a part of that package.

"Oh," she purred softly into the receiver, I could almost hear a smile cross her wet lips, "You will make a perfect little pet. You have absolutely no idea just how much I adore anal sluts and using them."

My hardon was instantaneous and just as quickly as it started it was at full-mast. I kid you not when I say I practically came on the spot. She whispered seductively into the phone specific instructions on how to get to her. I wrote down every detail, desperate to see this hot and experienced woman who would open my world - not to mention my asshole. The instructions were such that I was to drive to a specific phone booth and call her from there, she'd be watching from nearby . She wanted to be careful about giving out her address which was an understandable precaution I thought. I wanted to change before meeting her, I had to look my best for my first time with a Mistress, I desperately wanted to impress her. I had no idea this would be the start of my spiral into depravity and I'd never look back once it began.

Once I met the Mistress - it quickly became a long-term mutual bond of submission and dominance. Over the years small thin dildos were replaced with bigger ones. There was much use of butt plugs of ever increasing size over greater extended periods of time as I became accustomed to her use and abuse of my ass. My sexual evolution rose then to a Mistress (not Cruella) fucking me hard with a beautiful big black strapon: naked, padlocked to a sling which was suspended from the ceiling, nipple clamps on, and all the while rocking to and fro - hurting my nipples more with each rock.

"Would you take a real cock for me now slut?"

She cooed temptingly into my ear one night, "Would you?" Her question barely registered to my conscious mind through the sexual haze induced by a generous helping of huffed poppers, but in my well-trained sub-space frame of mind I found the words tumbling out with automatic ease.

"Yes my Mistress! Please make me take real cock for you like the good slut I am!"

Turns out she meant it literally, not figuratively. She continued to pound me, pushing the sling I was shackled upon away from her until the tip of her cock just left my ass pussy (as she'd ordered me to think and refer to my asshole) then she'd pull me back onto her 8 inches of rubber slamming forward at the same time as she pulled me onto her rigid cock, causing me to scream in ecstasy. That is when I felt a hand on

my forehead accompanied by an order, "Turn this way slut." I turned to see a semi-hard black cut cock at least 7 inches long and wide, and wow I mean wide. The monstrously thick dick obscured my entire field of vision.

"Open up slut," came my Mistresses firm command. The excitement was clear in her voice,

"It's time to please me and make me wet. Suck him for me. Show me how much of a cock slut you are for me".

Physically my legs were opened wide but it was mentally where my horizons grew: from those first professional Femme Dommes, to worshiping the subs of those Dommes, to exploring TV Mistresses, and finally, to where I should have been all along, worshipping real gay Masters.

So here I was years later facing a single massive room with several side rooms branching off from it. Each room was full of every depraved piece of equipment my pig mind could have possibly imagined. It was Friday afternoon, my work finished, and with the weekend stretching ahead of me in a city full of gay opportunities, I could only think - how lucky am I.


"First time here," inquired the guy manning the counter as I passed my backpack across. Eyeing him up and down I saw he was a solidly built 5-foot 11-inch chiseled frame of muscle and sporting a singlet with accentuating short-shorts. His piercing blue eyes were framed by luxuriously thick black hair and despite all that masculine energy and strength he exuded he seemed more of a bottom than top to my untrained eye.

"Nope," came my easy response, "been here once before on a trip to San Fran." I found I was growing in confidence. My once deeply held concerns were gone allowing me to feel more and more excited about the items I could see. I'd read that they sold the little bottles of brown I so greedily craved, it was an understatement to say I wanted poppers a lot. Still - there were some nerves as I pondered if what I wanted to do might be an issue or not in the establishment. Push coming to shove I considered a way to imply that I wanted to buy poppers in order to intermittently sniff whilst walking around the shop to feed into my inner heathenistic sexual fires and desires.

"Could I buy a bottle of brown now but continue to look around and peruse more of the items please?"

"Sure, cash only though." The store clerk reached under the counter and brought out a tray with varied brands of poppers.

"Don't have too many of these in here," he quipped with a mischievous gleam in his eyes and flirtation in his voice, "you never know what might happen if you do!" The addition of a wicked grin on his handsome face caused my cock to jerk to life of its own accord. My only thoughts were how things seemed to be getting more interesting by the minute. After some cute small talk and a few moments of deciding which poppers I wanted, we completed the sale.

"Enjoy looking around and let me know if you need any help or information," he offered helpfully as we concluded things, "there's a lot of fun to be had for a naughty little boy like you." He seemed to know that I was a total bottom with much more certainty than I had been thinking he was a bottom. I couldn't say how he knew and for all my guesswork - he could be a complete top.

Then I realized I slunk into the shop like a nervous schoolboy, it must have been obvious for anyone that I was clearly a bottom - and a nervous one at that!

"Thanks!" I called over my shoulder at the last moment before I completely forgot myself, "I'll keep your offer in mind. I have the whole weekend to have some fun after all." Shit! Why had I blurted that out? I looked at my unopened bottle of poppers; I couldn't even blame it on them yet for not thinking clearly.

"Well, well," he laughed playfully as he placed his elbows on the counter and leaned forward, "lucky you! Did you mean that you're free from this point on for the whole weekend? Or are you just done for today but will have to work again at some point?" Admittedly I thought the question a strange one to ask me, but at the same time it seemed harmless enough.

"Oh no," I now turned as my confidence grew, "No more work for me this evening or the rest of the weekend. I'm just footloose and fancy free." Could you blame me for enjoying the flirtatious exchange between us, even though I did prefer the company of more overtly domineering men.

"Well then, I am sure you'll find someone to give you a hot and fun weekend," he promised with that same inviting smile and flirtatious tone.

"I hope so, though it's not always easy to find the right guy, with everyone into such different things." I had to wonder, even as I said it, was it my ever growing erection or the stud behind the counter that was causing me be so much more risque than I would normally be. Finally I questioned why it mattered at all. Not only was it fun, but my ass pussy twitched with every exchange between us. In my past experiences with the clerks at adult shops, I'd find myself overwhelmed with embarrassment at even being in a place like that and so I would hurriedly bring the conversation to an end to get what I wanted and then scurry out as swiftly as possible - and that went double for the gay stores. It was almost odd that I didn't have that same sense of cold dread I'd come to feel so accustomed to in stores like these.

"With so many things to explore that can be all too true," he gave a small nod as he tilted his head with a look of open curiosity on his face,

"What about you? What are you into? Oh-but first I should introduce myself! I'm Steve and I have to ask - where's that cute accent

of yours from?"

"A pleasure to meet you Steve," I began as I now came back towards him since our conversation didn't seem to be ending anytime soon, "I'm Pete and as for the accent, I'm British. When it comes to my 'vices' we'll say I'm finding that I'm into more aspects than ever as

of late. In fact, I just don't even know where to start at times."

He'd called my accent 'cute.' I was liking him more with each interaction, the way he moved, his way with words. It all was beginning to make me feel more of a sub to him compared to how I'd felt when I arrived. It'd be much later by the time the thought would dawn on me that perhaps that was his entire reason for saying things as he did.

"Well, you're in luck," he said exuberantly with a small slap of his hand on the counter, "because that I can help with. So, why don't we just have a little sniff of those poppers you bought and I'll give you the 'grand tour' shall we say."

SHIT - this was getting real! The shop was empty of customers save for one extraordinarily nerdy, overly tall and lanky looking guy who was examining some heavy leather wear whilst stealing the occasional glance at the two of us. There was one other guy who I could only assume was an employee too because he was stacking shelves with merchandise and wore nothing but leather.

"Sounds good to me," I agreed whilst taking the wrapping from the cap and unscrewing the bottle. The two of us walked further into the store now side-by-side. I handed the bottle to Steve to do the honors before myself.

"Oh no, no - you should go first," he insisted. I took a little hit of the aromatic vapors instantly loving the feel as I sniffed.

"Come on," Steve said devilishly "take a good long hit for me. You might as well feel it working." I dutifully complied and took a long pull from the bottle holding one nostril closed while breathing in through the other, all the while he counted.

"One... Two... Three... Four..." I knew from watching countless 'Sissy Hypno' videos that he meant for me to sniff continuously during the count, so I did as ordered, " Five...Six...And Hold." I stopped bringing the strong fumes of the bottle into my lungs and held my breath. I was awash with the warming glow of the amyl nitrate and gave into the torrent that spread in both directions to my chin and forehead simultaneously. My head was already beginning to pound a little.

"Now release," Steve instructed.

As I exhaled I was struck now by the true force of the poppers and found myself giddily light-headed, much to my companion's delight, "That's my good boi."

Perhaps it is strange to say, but I distinctly got the feeling I could hear that he was saying "boi" with an 'I' instead of a 'Y' as though I was a fun little play thing. It was then I felt the pecking order had been well and truly established by Steve. I then realised he had called me, 'His' and that tantalizing detail made things so much more interesting. My initial ideal of going for a beer from earlier now became an afterthought as I relaxed more and more in the presence of this sexual creature was so sexily charming and the added benefit of the poppers pushing my mind and body towards a state of complete horniness.

Steve loosened my grasp on the poppers, taking them to his nose now and inhaling deeply and readily as a pleasured moan sneaked from his full lips, "God I love this feeling," he added after sighing and looked to me expectantly, "That reminds me...what would you like to do first?"

"I really need a new plug and some lube." Without going into details of my sordid past for Steve, I left out the fact that I had thrown away several items after a particularly strong plague of guilt over my deviant nature when I concluded a previous business trip. For me, that was a standard process: excitement from buying new toys and clothes, wildly and frantically using them time and time again, then becoming riddled with feelings of guilt and self-doubt until I drowned beneath the overwhelming tides of my mind and ultimately was compelled to throw all the evidence away. The only plus side was for the vendors of the products I bought because it led to me to being a regular purchaser of their goods worldwide.

"What size can you take Pete, are you a beginner with all this?" It was baffling to me that somehow this was feeling like a normal conversation two guys, God it felt good. I was loving every second of it, with every consecutive question I relaxed more (with the added bonus of the poppers to boot.)

"I had gone up to the 'TitanMen Master Number Four' last time, but it was just a little too large," I recounted to him my most recent venture with anal toys. "I got it all the way in only on one once out of the many times I tried it, and the last ring was just too big for me to have it in for any decent length of time."

"As soon as I managed to get it in all the way, I came buckets," I continued onward. "Not only that, but immediately after I came, it just felt too huge inside me. I just had to get it out as quickly as I could at that point." Once again I couldn't help but be struck by the oddity of the entire situation. Here I was confessing all to a complete stranger, my sordid and (I felt) embarrassing details of my sexual exploits and misadventures and despite that feeling I was becoming increasingly loose lipped with every sniff of the poppers I took. Naturally losing my inhibitions was a reward in and off itself - but it was a pleasant surprise for me as I rarely dropped my guard this way.

"Shit," Steve swore with a good natured laugh, "You can take quite a lot slut, can't you? "And you're sure it wasn't the Trainer version Number Four as opposed to the Master one my good little Slut, because that one is a lot smaller," Steve chuckled.

I noted the change from 'boi' to 'slut' which once again pushed me lower in the scheme of things for sexual submission, but what could I say? I had just told a stranger I could and indeed had managed to stuff a massive butt plug with a circumference of 8.1 inches into my ass. Just thinking about my hole being eight inches around made it seem huge let alone talking about the length. I marveled momentarily that my ass pussy could even be stretched that wide.

"Yes it was the Master type Steve, honest! But I only just took it - it was a real stretch," I added with some pride, then going on to add, "I thought I might try the 'TitanMen Master Number 5' this time since it's over half an inch smaller in circumference." I couldn't tell you why I had the strong compulsive desire to be certain he believed me and took me seriously. His laughing brought up the piggish urge to prove beyond all doubt just how much of an ass slut I could be.

"Well, you certainly know your stuff," Steve admitted with an approving nod of his head, "However, I am sure if you're well fed with poppers you'll be able to take it. After all - you'll need to be able to wear it for awhile." I was now aware of him stating rather than asking that I'd be taking it and with poppers being fed to me to boot, which would mean someone to feed me.

"On that note," Steve commanded firmly, "take four long sniffs. Two in each nostril for five seconds a piece. Hold each breath for another five seconds following each inhalation of the poppers before moving onto the next side."

I had my orders and didn't even think to look around my immediate surroundings - I was so taken with this man by this point I was oblivious to much of anything else. I merely complied with what I was told and took long, hard breaths and descended deeper into what I could only describe as of mental fog of compliance. I didn't think of what he was saying as an order, nor did I register that I was acting upon these orders. Even the smiles of the single customer from earlier as well as the only other employee was completely lost on me while they observed the exhibition that was taking place.

If I had been aware of this it would have been all too obvious just how titillated they were by our display. I also failed to realize for the time being that Steve now had not only given the poppers back to me but was no longer taking any hits - it was just me.

"Okay Size-Queen, you pick up the butt plug while I get the lube and then I have something I want to show you which I think you'll just love,"

"Yes Master." Fuck. I called him Master! I didn't intend to, but the words somehow spilled out. God only knows what he was going to say now.

Report Story

byHis_fag_wife© 10 comments/ 71203 views/ 68 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

2 Pages:12

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar: