I have always been a pretty outgoing person. I have also always been a sexual person. Sometimes people just naturally defer to me to take charge and this is even moreso true when it comes to sex.

When I was 19, I had just moved to San Francisco to be with a man that I had fallen in love with six months prior. It was my first time out of Colorado and when I arrived, it was like heaven. Except that the man I was staying with tells me the day I arrive that he can’t date me.

I was crushed, but it didn’t matter. The love I felt for him was so profound that having him in my life in any way was worth having to sacrifice the house with the white picket fence where he and I settled down and had kids. He explained that this has happened to him before. He meets someone from out of town (everyone in SF is from out of town) and they fall in love and the guy moves to SF to be with him. Within a week, the guy is off with someone else because there are so many options. It’s crushing for him, so he wanted to avoid that up front.

I went a full year without having sex with anyone and not really thinking about it. Every day was happy and life was good. But one day, I was exceptionally horny and saw the most amazing and masculine man I had ever seen. He was sitting at the bar at Headquarter’s, a leather-uniform bar in the heart of the Castro.

I walked in and started playing pinball right next to him. I did everything I could to get his attention. I even decided to introduce myself and he looked me in the eyes and shook my hand but said nothing to me.

When 2:30 a.m. signified the bar was closing, I was pissed off. I was questioning myself and not sure why I couldn’t get this guy to pay attention to me at all. As I head for the door, I turn to say ‘goodnight’ and consider saying something nasty about how he is missing out on some great sex by not going home with me.

But before I can say anything, he says, “You ready to go boy?”

I was bouncing around like a kid at Christmas who can’t wait to open the present that he knows is exactly what he asked Santa for. We walk out of the bar and I tell him that my place is just half a block away on Castro. He says, “We are taking my car” to which I tried to reply “but seriously, I can see my place from here…”

He shoves me into his white VW Sports Car (not what I was expecting) and we drive the 600 feet to my apartment. This is the same apartment that I share with the man I was in love with. In fact, he’s asleep in the back room.

So this guy drives right up onto the sidewalk and parks the car. I’m a little wigged out, but also kind of turned on that he just didn’t give a fuck about the law. He opens his hatchback and pulls out a bag as big as I was. He tells me to take the bag inside, strip naked, don’t look in the bag. I could barely lift it and get it down the four stairs to my garden level apartment.

I closed the blinds, drew the curtains, stripped naked in my living room and waited for him to return. When he did, the first thing he did was open the blinds and the curtains. This is Castro Street and there are people walking home from the bars closing. They walk right by my huge window and can see everything.

He puts a dog collar on me with the teeth pointing inward. The harder the lead is pulled, the further into my neck these teeth go, choking me at the same time. The puts a cock-and-ball separator on me and ties the ring from my nutsack to a clip chain, through my legs and connects it to the doorknob.

He explains how it is going to work.

He told me that he wanted me to walk towards him. So I took a step and felt the chain tighten and my nuts pull further back behind me. he stood just of our reach. He said if I couldn’t take any more, raise either hand and told me to come to him. He somehow made me feel that my integrity–my self-worth was tied to being the best boy he has ever done this to. I was a little reckless and decided I would pass out before giving up. So I continued towards him until I was purple and about to lose consciousness. He wrapped his huge arms around me, lifted me up, and walked me back to the door. He dislodged the teeth from neck and checked for punctures…there were none. It was hard to explain how I got about 50 tiny bruises in a perfect pattern around my neck.

He patted me on the head and tears welled up in my eyes. Not sadness, just pride and accomplishment when he said, “well done boy.”

Next he had me hold his nipple ring as he started to flog me. He gradually increased the strength of the flogging, hitting me harder in more sensitive ways. He told me when I had had enough, let go of his nipple ring and he would stop. I was again determined.

When little drops of blood reached the surface of my side, he smiled slightly and told me I did goo again. I didn’t know about he blood, but he did. He loving took care of me, applying a bandage and asking me if I was okay. I was, of course, blissful. He left that night without having sex with me and he called me the next day. We played a couple of other times before he offered me the opportunity to become a live-in boy for him. He had 3 so far, and he would consider giving me rank over two of them because they were weak and I wasn’t.

I would have to quit my job, shave my head, get a tattoo of a barcode on the back of my head (with my ownership credentials) and I would never wear clothes again. He told me I could come to his estate and meet the other boys if I wanted. He was considering offering me this position and wanted me to make an informed decision.

I didn’t take him up on either offer, but I still think about it today.

The important thing to keep in mind here is that while I was completely submissive to him, I didn’t have to compromise my edge. I didn’t have to become weak to be submissive. He made me crave being the best possible boy he had ever had…it was wild.

The entire time, I was in complete control. No safeword needed because I was in control. This is the psychology of leather that makes having your head fucked with better than any sex you can have with just your body.