Date: Sat, 14 Jan 2012 20:31:24 -0800
From: Stinking John <installatoilet@gmail.com>
Subject: An Old Dog Taught Me a New Trick

       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 It was outdated and I,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.