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I had this experience happening to me a few years ago. It changed me for good. It was both terrifying and nice (in a weird way).
It was my first sexual encounter with a man. And it was my first time being thoroughly dominated and humiliated by an older gay man.
This is what happened:
It was fall, mid october I think, and I had just turned 21 years old. Back then I went to college. Although I enjoyed staying in shape I was never into college sports. So rather than spending the weekends at campus we’d rather go, a group of friends and I, to attend different music festivals around the country.
I was, and still am, a white male, 6’3, and around 180 lbs. Lean, but somewhat muscular from casually lifting weights in my spare time. People on campus used to ask me if I’d ever tried out for the basket ball team, but I don’t have the necessary athleticism. Just the frame.
Anyways, this one time we had found a country music festival where several bands we loved were playing. So it seemed like a nice thing to do for the weekend.
Because of the budget we always traveled light. Usually in a van together. And we slept in tents. Everyone brought their own mini tents and we usually slept in the festival camp. You know, the sort of RV/tent villages that is organized by the festivals.
Back then I always wore the same thing. I had probably five marginally different blue jeans. All of them from the manufacturer Lee. They were pretty much skintight. I had long, lean legs with some muscularity. And I felt kind of hot in those jeans. So why the f shouldn’t I where them every day. I mostly wore black or white t shirts, and if it was cold, some type of varsity or bomber jacket. Again. With the varsity jacket people often took me for a jock. Also, every year I bought a pair of converse chucks hi tops in white. I love that shoe. Back then I always made sure to tuck my jeans into the chucks, using rubber bands around my ankles, so that the chucks would be as visible as possible.
Tbh I think Iooked hot. And I kinda felt it. I had no trouble getting attention from girls. They usually complimented my legs and ass, which might not be what most men are going for, but heck. I got laid. And plenty of it.
I digress.
We arrived at this country music festival friday morning. It was quite cold, I remember. In the van we had only brought with us some large kegs of beer, our tents, some foldable camping chairs and the clothes we were wearing. It was me and two other friends. All guys, and all ready for a good time. Although we brought along tents the goal was always to find some pretty women with a hotel room. It was kind of a game we had. Get laid, but in the nicest hotel room possible.
We put up our tents in the camp. It was a big festival so the camp was very crowded. Mostly by RVs and all kinds of motor homes. Some quite big with tents outside the RVs etc. The festival had been going since tuesday already so a lot of people had been here for days already.
Although it was quite cold outside we put up our chairs around what seemed like a gathering point in the camp, and we started drinking.
Within minutes a group of girls caught our attention. We asked them to join us. Eventually more people came out to join. Some brought tables and heating lamps. And someone even brought a full sound system. It was kinda nice tbh. It was like a mini mini burning man going on. There were people of all ages there, but probably more older people than young. We were definitely one of the younger groups in the camp. But it was fun. We didn’t care. We were there for the music, and also it could be fun to meet older women.
An older guy, I would guess he’d be in his fifties, sat down next to me. I was always open to talking to most people so I didn’t tell him to f off. He introduced himself as Sarge. I thought it was a strange name, but he explained that he was a veteran. And that he’d carried that name ever since the Iraq war in the 90s. Sarge was a stocky built man. You could kinda see that he was a military man. He was quite a bit shorter than me, maybe 5’9, but he had a much stockier build. Like thick forearms etc. He looked like he used to wrestle in college to say the least.
Clothing wise he looked like your typical 50 year old country music enthusiast. Basically dressed as a cowboy. Jeans, a shirt, a hat, and a pair of nice looking cowboy boots. He had a scar on his cheek, I remember. So he looked like someone who had led a rough life.
I remember him asking if I had served in the military. I hadn’t. Then he started lecturing me about how or generation was weak and lazy. I didn’t have anything better to do so I talked back. It went down something like this:
Me: “If it’s weak not being a war monger. I guess I’m weak. You went to Iraq. How’d you feel that worked out for us?”
Sarge: “This proves my point. You have no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t know what it means to sacrifice yourself for something bigger than yourself.”
Me: “Ye, because what’s more sacred than killing civilians in the middle east?”
Sarge: “You’re beşiktaş escort bayan starting to get on my nerves, boy.”
Me: “Well, you don’t have to sit here..”
Then he took his large paw of a hand and grabbed my thigh. And he squeezed hard. I grabbed his hand trying to get him to let go. It hurt. Before I was able to say anything he leaned in close and said: “You better learn some respect, boy. Learn how to address someone older, wiser and stronger than yourself.”
And he left. I could see him go join an older group sitting on the other side of the gathering point.
“What a strange and sad man”, I thought.
I didn’t think more of it and joined my friends talking with the girls from earlier. The girls were probably in their thirties, but it was fun. They had a huge RV in the camp. Maybe not a five star hotel, but better than my tent for sure. So I knew what my frends were doing; flirting to get a good night of sleep. I jumped on that project. One of the girls caught my eye. A brunette. She was from somewhere in the south. Goodlooking. She worked as a nurse and loved country music. According to her, going to this festival was something they had done for years. It was kind of their yearly thing. Out of the group, some had husbands at home, but she was single. Bingo.
I also remember she wore the nicest pair of leather pants I’d seen in my life. She was hot.
After a couple of hours the concerts were about to start. People started leaving the camp to go to the festival area. We packed up as well.
I hadn’t even put up my tent although I knew it was going to be a mess doing in the middle of the night, if I didn’t get lucky with the girl from the south of course.
It was really cold and the concerts were outside. So I put on my bomber jacket and put a pair of leather gloves and a light weight scarf in my pocket in case it got even colder later in the night..
Then we walked with the girls to the festival area.
We watched the first songs of, I think it was, Rascall Flatts. Love that band. But that was when my night of terror slowly started.
As we stood there watching, all of a sudden I felt a hand on my ass. Or actually inside the left back pocket of my tight jeans. I turned around and it was Sarge.
Then he said quite politely: “One beer, please.”
“What?”, I replied.
And while turning I checked my back pocket. In it he’d placed three 50$ bills.
I looked at my friends. They hadn’t even noticed any of this. They were busy with the show.
“I’m not sure what you want, man. Why you give me these?”, I continued.
“It’s so you can buy me a beer, boy.” he explained with a calm voice. “And you can buy something for yourself as well. I’ll treat you good.”
“I won’t buy you a beer. Go to the bar yourself!” I answered back quite annoyed of the whole situation.
Who did this guy think he was? Did he think that I was some kind of server at this thing?
“Cman, boy. I’ve already given you the money. Go be a good boy for a tired old veteran.”
I contemplated it for a second. I was going to buy me something anyway, and he was offering to pay for my beer as well. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. I just didn’t like the way he’d approached me. It felt kinda degrading, but getting a free beer was nice. Especially with the prices inside the festival area.
“Ok. I’ll buy you one beer, but you’ll buy one for me as well, right?” I gave in.
“Yes. Go get two beers. One for me, and one for the boy as a prize.”
He annoyingly kept calling me “boy”. I guess in relation to him, I was.
I grabbed two beers and paid with the money he’d put in my back pocket. I went back and gave him the beer.
Then I tried to give him the change, but he didn’t want the change back. He said:
“Oh no. This is for the next ones. You keep it.”
That was awkward. I still had prob around 135$+ in my pocket of his money, but I didn’t have time to argue. The band was about to play my favorite song so I went back to my friends with my fresh beer.
The band played three more songs. I had prob drank half of the beer I had just bought when all of a sudden I felt someone grabbing my ass again. This time outside the pocket. And a large hand grabbing my shoulder. I turned and it was Sarge again. He dragged me in close and said:
“Boy. I need another beer.” This time with a much more commanding voice.
“Well, then go get it yourself!” I responded, clearly annoyed. I tried to give him his money back again.
“No. Go be a good boy now. I’m not telling you again.” He commanded.
Then he squeezed my neck hard. My legs almost gave in. And I dropped my beer.
“Aouch, what the fuck?” I cried out.
“This is not hard. Don’t make it hard.” He looked me straight in the eyes with a very serious look on his face. If looks good kill he def had that look dialed in. It kinda scared me.
My friends had noticed the commotion and came over to me. They asked what was going on? I didn’t want to poke Sarge more than necessary, no point in causing a scene, so I told them:
“Oh. istanbul escort No worries. It’s just a guy I met in the camp. We’re just talking.”
I could see Sarge smile to them.
As they turned around he got that commanding look on his face again.
“You spilled your beer. Be a good boy. One beer to me. And a prize to the beer boy. Now.”
He had a point. I did spill my beer. And I didn’t want to get in a fight with this idiot. So..
“Ok.”
“Ok, what?”
“Ok. I’ll go get us beers.”
“No. What did I tell you about addressing a superior earlier today?”
“Please, man. I don’t want any trouble here. Do you want me to go get you your beer or no?”
He grabbed my arm and squeezed my bicep while looking me straight in the eyes again.
“To you, boy. I’m a sir. Is that understood?”
“Ok ok. Yes, sir.”
“Now you can go get me my beer.”
He slapped my ass as I started walking towards the bar. I just hoped the brunette I was flirting with didn’t see it.
While waiting in line I couldn’t shake the feeling of embarrassment from what had just happened. Here I was, at a festival with my friends, buying beer for an old man. By the look of things, I was indeed his beer boy. And worse, he had basically forced me to address him as “sir”. I didn’t like it at all. It felt wrong.
I got back to Sarge with two beers again. Giving him one.
“Thank you, boy.” His demeanor had changed. He was much more serious than when I first met him in the camp.
“Ok. Please. Here’s the change. Find someone else to buy you stuff from now on.” I told him as nicely as I could with my hand reaching out towards him with his money.
He just looked at me. Straight at me with piercing eyes.
“Please, man.”
He still didn’t say anything.
“Sir. Please take your money, sir.”
“Good boy. Now you learn.”
I still stood there with my arm out. It felt like an eternity.
“No. It’s better you carry my money, boy. I’ll call you when I need anything.”
I really didn’t know what to do. I could throw the money at him, but I guess that wouldn’t end well. Or I could simply comply.
I looked down at my feet as I put the money back in my front pocket. Then I looked up at him. He smiled arrogantly. “Good boy.”
I felt like an idiot, but I didn’t feel like I had any other alternatives right there and then.
“Now, go be with your friends until I call for you. Chop chop.”
Then he gave me a hard push, on the shoulder. I almost fell, and walked back to my friends who were standing a couple of yards away.
My goal for the evening was that brunette from the south, but now I didn’t feel it that much anymore. I’d kind of lost my confidence. And I had this lingering feeling that I hadn’t seen the last of Sarge for the evening either.
I got back only to find one of my friends, John, talking with the brunette. Which kinda annoyed me a bit. I’d told him earlier that she was my target for the evening. So I went over to them.
“Who’s that strange guy you’re talking with?” John asked. “Looked like he kinda pushed you around?”
“That guy? He’s just a military guy I met in the camp earlier. It was friendly play. He’s just bugging me because I haven’t served in the army. It’s nothing.”
“Didn’t look that way. It looked like he was looking for trouble, and that you let him push you around. Did you buy HIM a beer after he made you drop yours?” He continued.
The brunette started laughing.
“No no. He actually gave me money. Look.” I took out Sarge’s money from my pocket. Still like more than 120$.
“That’s crazy! Why’re you standing here then? Go buy us beers ffs!”
I struggled to come up with something smart. My buddy thought this was my money. And I had kinda told him so. But that wasn’t the case. I knew Sarge was probably watching from behind. I looked back to where he had been earlier, but I didn’t see him. Maybe he had left? I felt backed into a corner. Either I admit the money is not really mine, and I’ll get bombarded with more questions. And wtf. I could tell the brunette I’m trying to court that I’m the beer boy of some old military guy I randomly met. That would surely put an end to the plan of getting jiggy with her. That’s for sure. Or I could lie. Claim the money was mine to do whatever I pleased with. I chose the latter. A decision that would later prove to be fatal.
“Ye, of course I can. What do you guys want? All beers?”
Our other friends and the rest of the group joined in on the conversation. Everybody wanted beers. The brunette even offered to come along to help me carry.
I was a bit nervous, but also felt good finally getting the brunette to show some kind of interest in me. She giggled on the way over to the bar. The line was full. People everywhere. I was completely absorbed by her energy when I all of a sudden felt a hand on my ass again. Not violent. Just like if someone wanted me to know that they were close. I knew who it was, but I didn’t want to turn.
The hand kept rubbing and it quickly turned into what I would escort bayan rus call groping. With at least one finger rubbing me in the butt crack of my jeans. I couldn’t ignore it anymore so I turned around. And of course. Looking straight at Sarge. Before I was able to say anything it was our turn in the bar. Saved by the bell. The brunette, who’s name I think was Taylor, ordered several things. I had said it was ok, so I couldn’t blame her. Knowing Sarge was standing nearby I started sweating. Then I thought: “I gotta use my debit card for this one now.” I reached in my jacket for my card holder.
“What about the cash you got?” The brunette asked.
“I’d rather use my card for this one.” I said.
I inserted my card and typed in the pin. It was rejected. Perfect.
I tried again. And of course, money hadn’t magically appeared in my account.
So I had no choice. As I took the cash out of my pocket I could feel Sarge was watching.. He was watching as I spent every last dollar he had given me. Money he had explicitly told me was his. Money he wanted me, according to him his beer boy, to look after. Again. I had no choice. At least that’s what I felt while standing there. The last thing I wanted was to look like an idiot in front of Taylor, the brunette.
We walked off from the bar with three of these long paper carry things you get at festivals. And just outside the crowded bar line we walked straight at Sarge.
He was waiting for us. Basically blocking our path to our friends.
I couldn’t ignore him. The brunette had seen us talking earlier. So in my panic I decided to introduce them to each other.
“Taylor, this is Sarge from the camp earlier. Sarge, this is Taylor.” I probably sounded nervous as hell.
“Hi Taylor.” Sarge was showing that charming side of him again. “Kids these days. You enjoy alcohol, I can see.”
“We’ve bought these for the whole gang.” Taylor explained while giggling. “Kyle here is spoiling us.”
“Oh. How nice of him. He sounds like a good boy.” Sarge was getting weird now.
“I guess I am, but I think our friends are waiting for us.” I jumped in wanting this weird meetup to end as quickly as it started.
“Aren’t you the guy who gave Kyle money?” Taylor said with a big smile on her face.
The one thing I didn’t want her to address.
“Well. This boy was looking after my money for me. That’s right. But I don’t think they were ever his to spend freely?”
I started to sweat again. Sarge locked those piercing eyes on me again. I looked down at my feet. I could feel my confidence leaving my body. I slowly became the boy Sarge constantly was addressing me as.
Taylor was looking at me a bit unsure of what was going on.
“Go get the beers to the others, Taylor. I just need a minute with Sarge.” I looked at Taylor, but I felt Sarge’s glaring eyes looking at me from the side.
“Ok.. Is everything ok?” Taylor could feel the awkwardness, but didn’t quite know what to do about it.
“She can stay. That’s ok.” Sarge commanded. “I think it’s good that she stays for this, boy.”
I felt sick. My heart skipped several beats. It felt like it at least. I just wanted to disappear right there and then. I looked up at Sarge, but right back down again. His eyes were terrifying.
“Man. I’m sorry. I thought you gave me the cash. Like what would you have done? Cman. I’ll get them back to you tomorrow. It’s no worries, right?” I was almost stuttering. Still looking down at my white chucks.
Looking back I don’t know what happened to me. This guy, Sarge, made me feel like a little bitch. I lost all my confidence when he was present. And the brunette, Taylor, could sense it. I kept mumbling, but Sarge didn’t say a word. He just looked at me. After what seemed like minutes, but prob in reality just a few seconds, he put his hand on my shoulder. Like a father to his boy.
“In the military we learned that our actions have consequences.” Sarge said in a fatherly manner while looking down at me. Although he was at least 3-4 inches shorter than me, he was obviously the bigger man right there and then.
“Ok?” I asked. “What does that mean?”
Then he slapt me in the face. Not very hard, but hard enough to hurt. And of course it caught me completely by surprise. I dropped all the beers I was carrying and got beer all over my jeans.
“Please man.” I took a step back and reached for my left cheek where the slap had landed. A real man would probably have punched back, but I had no confidence in front of this man. I felt like there was no point in fighting back. That it would only end worse for me in a way.
Taylor was really getting uncomfortable now. So she tried to get out of the situation. It probably didn’t help that the guy she had been flirting with acted like a total bitch.
“I think it’s best if I go back to the others, Kyle.” She said quietly.
I didn’t say anything, but looked up at Sarge. My eyes were clearly saying: Only if it’s ok for Sarge. I was such a bitch in that situation.
“You can go, but the boy stays.” Sarge commanded. His eyes still locked on me. I looked down at my wet jeans with a wet crotch. It looked like I had peed myself. I had brought no change of clothes, so this was my look for the rest of the evening. I took a step back towards Sarge. Like a an idiot coming back for more punishment.
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