When I came out in the 80s and 90s, I always lusted after the older guys with the 70's clone, old-guard leather look. It was outdated and I, myself, ended up getting gear that was considered more "up-to-date" and sexy by the standards of the times: a pair of leather boots, leather pants, a t-shirt to show off my gym body and a leather jacket. I remember the luster and the smell of my new leather gear!
I was good enough looking to get some fun experiences and loved getting tied up, getting flogged, following orders, sucking cock and getting fucked. I could get laid by the kind of guys who would win leather contests and I probably could have won one of those myself but I was too closeted to put on that kind of public display in Boston where I lived. But I got lucky and one summer my work took me to New York City.
On the first weekend there, I met the man who ended up being the most memorable sexual guide in my life. He was at the Spike and was wearing chaps, tall boots, a dirty old pair of jeans under the chaps, no shirt, a leather harness and a leather jacket. He was about 20 years older than me, in his 40s, hairy and in decent-shape but clearly not a gym-bunny. Most amazing to me was the fact that he was smoking a cigar, wore his wallet on a chain on his left side with some hankies sticking out of his back left pocket and had a handle-bar mustache! The guy from the Village People was more subtle than this guy!
Because he was so much older and not nearly as built as some of the "prime candidates" for the night, I didn't immediately stop and try to talk to him. Instead I continued around the bar once or twice. But somehow, even though there were other guys who looked more like porn stars, I quickly realized that I was far more sexually attracted to this blast from the past. I stood near him, not sure what to say. He glanced my ways several times. Eventually, when I finished my beer I leaned forward, introduced myself and asked whether he would like me to get him something to drink while I went to get myself another beer. I naturally, ended the sentence with, "Sir." He smiled and said, "OK, boy, you can get me a beer, as long as I can give it back to you later." It took a split second for me to figure out what he meant but then enthusiastically said, "Yes, Sir!"
I forget most of what we talked about that first night but I remember that I had somehow decided that we were perfectly sexually compatible. He talked about wanting a "boy" who would serve him on a regular basis and I loved the idea of seeing what new and exciting things would happen if I served the same guy over time. He ordered me to keep my eyes lowered to his boots and keep my hands behind my back as he rubbed my crotch, unbuttoned my shirt and pinched my nipples, raised his arm and gave me a whiff of his fantastically sweaty armpits. I was in deep lust. At some point he said something about how everyone can see what kind of pig I am and what disgusting things I am into. It suddenly occurred to me that he was talking about the fact that I was clearly showing obedience to a guy who was flagging some hankies but that I had not seen what colors they were! I sheepishly admitted that I was clueless about the hanky code. He laughed and showed me the 3 hankies in his pocket. One was gray which meant bondage. I explained that I loved bondage. The next was yellow and he didn't need to explain that one. I admitted that I had tried it and liked it but he could tell that I wasn't as comfortable with that fetish as I was with the bondage. The last one was brown. I was so clueless, he actually had to explain that that was for scat. Then he had to explain what scat was! I was silent. I explained that I hadn't tried that and I didn't know whether I would like it. I thought for a moment that this killed the moment so I added that I had once rimmed a guy who had a really sweaty, ripe ass and loved the smell but I had never gone further than that. He asked whether I have ever been turned on by the smell of farts or the smell of a dirty bathroom and I immediately said, "yes!"
When we finished our beers, he invited me back to his place which was only a few blocks away. It was a seedy part of town and his second floor walk-up was tiny and shabby. However, it was decorated as close to a dungeon as any place I've ever seen. It had black walls, kinky toys and gear hanging from the wall everywhere, including a sling and chains with shackles. Next to the front door was a footlocker. I was informed that boys were not allowed to walk further into his home. I would have to undressed, put all their clothes in the foot locker and then crawl until I returned to the footlocker on my way out. I did as I was told and he put a collar and leash on me.
He led me by the leash into the bathroom and handcuffed my hands behind my back. He said I should do some cocaine before he pissed on me. I had never done cocaine before but agreed to try it. He sat on the toilet and he had me kneeling between his knees as he prepared a couple of lines on a little mirror. He had unbuttoned the buttons of his jeans and between lines, he would have me sniff his raunchy jockstrap. It was yellow with piss-stains and smelled of sweat, cum and old, dried piss. I think that was the moment when I knew that I would do anything for this man as long as I could smell that periodically. Fortunately, he liked to be sniffed as much as I liked the smell and that dirty old jock became the mutually agreed-upon magic spell that kept me in his power for the rest of the summer. He eventually stood up and had me shuffle forward a bit so my head was hanging into the toilet bowl. He got behind me and pissed on my head so that the piss would drip into the bowl. Instead of having me wash up afterword, he had me just stay there, still handcuffed, slowly letting the piss dry on me as he fingered my ass. He said something about how I was lucky that he had flushed the toilet before because there are usually turds in there. I remember being turned on and scared of the idea at the same time and I don't remember what I said but he got the message and promised that we would work up to that over time.
Eventually the handcuffs were removed and I was put in the sling where I was shackled down. He wanted to fuck me but I didn't bareback which disappointed him. I know we did some pot and some more cocaine at some point along the course of the evening so I was pretty far gone. I apologized for disappointing him and explained that I wanted to get fucked by him. I told him where he could find a condom and some lube in the pocket of my clothes and how I'd do anything to get fucked by him. He milked this, tugging on my nips, rubbing my cock as he got me to agree to a series of terms before he would fuck me. He announced that I would need to come back next week for further training in his bathroom. I agreed. He announced that I would be expected to lick the condom clean afterword – inside and out. I took a deep breath and agreed. He said that he would decide when and where and how much cocaine I would use and I was not allowed to refuse or complain. I trusted him and was enjoying the cocaine so I said, "Yes." Finally, he said, that he wanted to be my "Daddy" not my "Master" and that wherever and whenever he felt like it, I would have to be his diaper-clad baby. This was something that was completely weird and different for me. It wasn't a turn-on or a turn-off when I first heard the idea. It was kind of humiliating imagining wearing a diaper but after a second, I realized that I liked the idea of being humiliated and being told what to wear. I said, "yes" and he bent down and gave me a kiss. I was thrilled. He gave me the best fuck I ever had.
Afterwords, he released my hands and allowed me to jerk off while cleaning the dirty condom. He had a look of such joy as he put the dirty condom in my mouth. He had me lick both sides so I swallowed his load and tasted my ass. I felt so degraded but also proud that I was able to meet his twisted demands.
He asked whether baby wanted to sleep in Daddy's bed after I cum. Of course, I agreed and that's the first time I remember responding to being called "baby." Calling him "Daddy" came naturally to me but when he called me "baby," I remember cringing the first few times. Especially the first time he called me that in a leatherbar.
After that, things progressed. We basically spent a night together almost every week that summer. Often, a chunk of the evening would be spent with me bound tightly in a chair with a ballgag in my mouth and one of his porn videocassettes playing in front of me. He would leave me there while he would do other things. Although now you can find everything on the internet, back then, I was amazed to see a scat video and a video with guys acting like babies. Although the smell and taste of shit would quickly get me nauseated the scat videos at least included guys in leather. The infantilism videos were often men being dressed up by women and it all looked so painfully absurd. At the same time, there was something about the fact that Daddy liked this that wanted me to be as ridiculous and pathetic as any of the guys in the movie.
I won't bore you with a week by week replay but here are some of the highlights from that summer. Twice, Daddy took me to a filthy public bathroom and put a line of cocaine on the toiletseat and I would kneel down and snort it. Daddy also introduced me to rimseats, still one of my favorite pieces of equipment. I would spend hours under his butt. He made a ritual out of it. He would take an old-fashioned "poppers bullet" (a metal cylinder that is filled with poppers-soaked cotton inside and little holes at one end so you could hold it up a nostril without the risk of spilling) and put it around my neck. I knew that meant it was time for me to worship his ass. I would then crawl over to wear the rimseat was stored and put the pieces together. I would position it in front of the TV where he would be selecting out some porn videos. I would spread out a plastic sheet under the rimseat to catch any mess and I was allowed to put a small pillow into a plastic bag and place that under the rimseat for my head. I would then have to wait by the rimseat until he sat down. I would get on my back in front of him and squirm and slide underneath him. That final move, slithering along the floor on my back, always made me feel like a worm, a slug, a sub-human maggot. I would then have to just lay there smelling the ripe odor of Daddy's butt. I loved the smell and he would allow me to just sniff at it for a very long time. Finally, he could tell from the increasing pressure of my nose pressing against his anus that I was in uncontrollable lust. That's when he would say, "open up" and I would finally taste his hole. I would lose track of time. Occasionally Daddy would order me to take a hit of the poppers. Sometimes, Daddy would put on a second video. Sometimes, his ass was just ripe and sometimes it was frankly shitty.
Daddy began having me buy diapers and wearing them when we had sex. It felt great when I pissed in one the first time. Daddy would take me to leatherbars wearing a diaper underneath my leather and as we drank beers, I would eventually need to piss on myself. I remember worrying that people could see what I was doing. Eventually, Daddy began ordering me to report to his apartment on a Friday morning and he would put a diaper on me before I went to work. It was scary worrying whether my colleagues would see or smell something. I still don't know if anyone did. It was a little more challenging when he began leaving them on me overnight and saying he wouldn't take them off until I shit on myself. Fortunately, he had me buy a pair of vinyl underpants that would go over the diaper and cover the odor and capture any leaks. It gets hot in the summer in NYC and I still remember that odor that would come out of the vinyl pants at the end of a day!
Daddy would also store a couple of baby bottles filled with his piss that were the main beverage that I drank when I was at his place. He'd always look so sexy in his leather gear while I was crawling around looking like a complete freak and smelling of piss and shit. I remember feeling far more sexy when he would let me get back into my leather and we would go out to a bar. One night, however, at the bar, he struck up a conversation with an old friend named "Jerry" who was really sexy looking. He was tall and muscular and I thought it would be hot to have a ménage a trois. I was trying to think of something sexy to say to hint that we may all want to get it on. However, when they finally turned their attention to include me in their conversation, Jerry just blew some of his cigar smoke in my face and said, "So you're some kind of baby freak?" I didn't know what to say. He asked whether I was really wearing a diaper under my leatherpants and I admitted that I was. He laughed and told me that he is a photographer and he agreed to take a "family portrait" of me and Daddy. I was scared about where such a photo would end up but before I could say anything, Daddy joined in saying how he was tired of fucking a baby with a condom and how he was looking forward to finally having sex with a man tonight, "man-to-man, skin-to-skin." Daddy threw his arm around Jerry's hips and pulled him close. I felt bad about the fact that Daddy liked to bareback but I was determined not to cross that line. I was so humiliated that Jerry knew the twisted things that I did for Daddy and I was even more humiliated because Daddy sounded so disgusted by me. Yet, the thought of watching Daddy and Jerry have sex made me incredibly horny.
When we got back to Daddy's place I blushed when I undressed and Jerry laughed at my diaper. I thought that if Jerry was going to be bottoming to Daddy, he would need to get undressed at the door and to crawl also but he was allowed to walk in. Daddy took me to the bathroom and handcuffed me to the toilet and then went in the other room and fucked Jerry. I could hear it but was not allowed to watch and felt so left out. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Daddy came into the bathroom with the key to release me. He said, "Come on baby, I know you like to drink my cum whenever I fuck." I smiled and said, "Yes, Daddy!" thinking about the used condoms that I now loved sucking clean. I crawled into the other room but discovered that Jerry was there sitting on the rimseat smirking at me. Daddy had Jerry twist my nips while I begged him for my Daddy's load. He said it was too late because the load went up his asshole. I knew where this was going. Daddy said, "You're not going to let that deter, are you, baby?" I repeated that I wanted my Daddy's load and Jerry said, "Do you mean you want to suck it out of my shithole?" I said, "Yes, Sir" but he made me say outloud that I wanted to lick it out of his shithole. He continued to torment me saying, "I don't know it's pretty raunchy down there." I had to begin begging him to let me suck Daddy's load out of his shitty asshole. He described how ugly, fat, old guys who can't get any attention in backrooms wait on their knees near where guys are fucking and then dive in to felch out the load afterwards. He concluded by asking, "So are you one of those desperate felch pigs?" I had to say, "Yes, Sir."
Finally, he let me get on my back and do the embarrassing squirming to get under his ass. The taste of lube came first and then the taste of his ripe ass. Finally, I could taste a little cum. Then he let out a big, wet fart, spraying my face with shitty assjuice and Daddy's cum. They laughed at that and made me thank Jerry for that. Jerry said that he had some more and after a few more minutes of licking he farted again. This time, I could tell that he deliberately broke the seal with my mouth so that he would make a mess all over my face. I thought that he would be done but he said he thought that he had a little more in there. I spread my mouth wide when he said it was about to cum since I didn't want to make more of a mess. Suddenly, a small turd popped out and into my mouth. They could hear my surprise in the sudden whimpering sound that I made and the shudder that went over my body. Jerry stood up and said, "Oops, I guess I was wrong." It was clear he was not sorry. I was grimacing, unable to figure out what to do with the turd in my mouth. They looked down through the rimseat at me and I knew that I was a mess.
Daddy told Jerry that it was time for the "family portrait." They both began doing things to prepare but I was too stunned and uncertain about what was going on to do much of anything myself. Daddy put on the filthy jock that I loved, his chaps, boots and harness and a leather jacket. It was similar to the outfit he wore that first time a saw him except he didn't have jeans on so his dirty jockstrap and parts of his crotch were showing. Jerry had taken out his camera and had turned on all the lights, positioning them brightly on a chair where Daddy sat. I was finally instructed to go get a baby bottle filled with piss and my pacifier and crawl on my hands and knees to Daddy's feet. I pointed to my face which still had the spray of Daddy's cum and his dirty ass streaked all over it. I opened my mouth wide and pointed to it, I couldn't really talk but I made gesture with my hand that I clearly wanted it out and that I could not swallow it. Jerry ignored the obvious meaning of my gestures and said, "Yah, that's going to look good on camera." I opened my mouth wider and shook my head. I just couldn't tolerate the taste of his turd any longer. Jerry finally relented putting his hand under my mouth so I could spit out his shit. He said he was only doing this to make room for the pacifier. I was so relieved. But then he proceeded to hold the turd like a chalk and write on my chest. In shit-smeared letters he wrote "Daddy's baby girl" He put the pacifier in my mouth and left the baby bottle with piss in my hand and he gave me a little slap on my butt to push me to crawl over to Daddy.
Jerry took a whole series of photographs – more than two rolls. In some I had the bottle in my mouth. In some I was leaning back drinking from the bottle. In some, Daddy was holding the bottle to my mouth, in others he was twisting my nipples. In some I was sitting between Daddy's legs and in others I was just kneeling there. He also took a series of photographs where I was sitting on Daddy's lap. I don't think I had ever sat on a man's lap since I was a child and most certainly not in front of anyone else. I was self-conscious just doing that, let alone the fact that I was wearing a saggy, wet diaper and nothing else!
Seeing those photos a few weeks later was my first experience seeing lewd pictures of myself. These days that may not seem so uncommon with digital cameras everywhere but back then, when photos had to be developed I remember sweating bullets about where those photos would end up. When I finally did see them, some were disappointing, some were not flattering or sexy and some were just silly. But there were a half dozen that filled me with shame and lust. Daddy had Jerry make an extra set of prints of the ones that I liked and he gave them to me at the end of the summer and I still have them today. It has been many years and for those first few years after New York City, my job was too busy for me to get nearly as wild. I eventually rediscovered the joys of piss and rimming dirty ass but I have never experimented with being treated like a baby or the other ways that Daddy made me feel like less of a man. As I get older, I get kinkier in so many ways but it is fun to know I have photographs that are 20-years-old that are still so twisted that I would never want anyone else to see them and still so sexy that I can't bring myself to destroy them.