Date: Sat, 17 Apr 2021 14:59:06 +0000 (UTC)
From: ropingtop@aol.com
Subject: Robert Michaels'  journey to submission - installment 1 authoritarian

Detective Robert Michaels got into his car, and began driving downtown.
It was time:  time he tried his first gay bar.   He had picked a
challenging one, but it was what he wanted.
Statistically, Michaels was still a young man:  at 32, you couldn't call
him old.  You also couldn't say he was out of shape: he worked out once,
sometimes twice a day:  every muscle in his body got a chance. He had a
full home gym too, down in his basement.  He used that too, when he was
bored , when he was lonely, and when he tried to sweat out what he
called  "the screaming purple hornies."

Michaels had known he had been gay since his early teens - maybe even
before that. It had taken this long for him to give some vent to it.
There had been one stumbling block after the other:  the military
directly out of school;  then, the misguided marriage to his high school
sweetheart that had lasted a grand total of two years.  (She hadn't
caught him with a man, or anything like that.    To the contrary, he came
home from work one day and caught HER in bed with another man.  Her
rationale?  "I want a man who doesn't mutter other names when he's NOT
having a hard on").  Fortunately, the divorce had been uncontested:
Michaels wasn't poor, but he wasn't rich either.

At the time, he had been working "front of the house" for an MMA
organization.  His degree, in Phys Ed and communications, made him a
perfect fit for a management position, and his job involved logistics of
getting the fighters from venue to venue,  setting up appropriate
matches, and doing his best to keep the owner, Eric Strait,  away from
the new recruits to the organization (Strait had a particular thing for
young, smooth, dark skinned men.  He would talk about a new "protege"
and everyone in the front office, Michaels included, would roll their
eyes.  That meant he was bedding them.  Strait was not the kind of guy
Michaels had in mind for himself, but he envied both Strait - getting
whatever he wanted sexually, whenever he wanted - and the young guys who
were the object of his boss' lust).

For Michaels, he had to make due with the "free" tickets he got to each
match.  He worked most of them, because regardless of how much
organization had gone into them, inevitably, things fell apart when the
event started.  "Mr Michaels, fixer upper"  became a title that the
fighters gave him.  They loved the way he took care of them, but he never
had the opportunity to do anything  sexual with any of them, much as he
wanted to.

Michaels' ultimate fantasy was to LOSE a match to one of the bigger
fighters, and to find himself crushed underneath him, helpless, while the
fighter began to take advantage of him, pushing his legs apart, getting
into his crotch and then.... taking what hadn't been taken yet.  The
fantasy continued with that fighter hauling him up over his shoulder,
dragging him back to a secret room, and keeping him chained up, and used
when he wanted him - which was frequently.  There was more than one night
when Michaels woke up, screaming
"YES SIR.  YES.  I GIVE.  I SUBMIT.  I'M YOURS.  I"M YOUR PRIZE"
followed by a huge explosion out of his cock.

Who was the fighter he fantasized about?  There were many, but one in
particular:  there was a big - no a REALLY big guy who wrestled under the
name  "sleeping Dragon,"  because of the tattoo of the sleeping dragon
that ran from his left shoulder down to his right hip.  His real name was
Jim Naller, which didn't sound very threatening.  Naller, though, looked
threatening:  at least 6'5", a shaved head, a hairy body, HUGE biceps,
short, muscular legs that were just about impossible to take out in a
fight, regardless of how good a leg sweep his opponent had.  He was the
company's money maker, and Michaels was told, by Strait, make sure you
find opponents he wants to wrestle.  For "Dragon," that meant blonds:  it
seemed "Dragon" liked nothing better than kicking the crap out of a
muscular blond athlete:  one who could give him a fight for about ten
minutes, before his real competitive juices started coming out.  Then,
the bear hugs, the arm locks,  the four way twisters,  they all took
their toll.  Dragon COULD have taken any match by pin or submission, but
his preference:  sleepers.  Every match came to a point where you saw the
look on his face.  He'd approach his clearly beaten opponent, get him in
a choke hold, and just get to work until the man was out cold on the
floor.
"Wish it were me"  ran through Michaels' head.  He was a blond.  Yes, the
blond was going to gray, but just at the temples, and he thought it was
sexy.  His body was good:  maybe he didn't do drugs like some of the
fighters did to accentuate the muscles, but he did have a good body.  The
times he fantasized about being locked in Dragon's arms gave him the
biggest ejaculations of all.

Michaels didn't even know that Dragon knew who he was, until one
afternoon.  The weather had gotten warmer, and rather than use a
treadmill, Michaels thought he'd get his 8 mile run in out in the park.
It was probably not warm enough to run without a shirt, but Michaels
didn't wear one.  He put on a pair of his favorite, deep red, onion skin
shorts, without a jock (hey, if people minded how his parts moved, that
was their problem, not his), his favorite running shoes, and headed out.
He smiled as he walked to the Park, because he saw four woman and two
(was it three?) guys check him out.  Was it his arms?  His perky
nipples?  His mildly hairy body?  Who knew?  He just liked the
attention.

He decided to take a run through a section of the park he hadn't used
before:  heavily wooded,  not used often.  He was tired of being stared
at during that run (it was the first warm day of the season, and everyone
was out, and sexual juices were running thick).  About three miles into
his run, he heard a voice yell to him.
"HEY.  MICHAELS .  WAIT UP."   He turned around and he saw a smiling
Dragon running toward him, hand in the air waving.
"DRAGON!  WOW.  What a surprise.  I didn't know you use this park."
"Stop talking, let's run.  How far you going?"
"Another six miles, Sir."
"Ha ha.  I like that.  Sir.  Need to get my boys to call me that.  Six
miles is good.  Challenge ya.  Loser buys drinks tonight."
Michaels head was about to explode.  "His boys?  "  Well, it could be
sons, but "loser buys drinks tonight."  Were they going out?
For a big man,  Jim (that's what he asked Michaels to call him.  Michaels
in turn suggested Jim call him Bob.  ) had superb cardio skills.
"Think you're ready to take it up a  notch, big Bob?"  He smiled, as he
picked up the pace at six miles.
"HOLY SHIT.  Bob had no intention of winning this race, and the way Jim
was running, he had no chance of it either.  Jim opened up distance, and
Bob trailed behind.  Jim teased him by stopping:
"I'll give you a thirty second head start for the last two miles. Take
it."
"I will.  Let's go."  The semi sprint had Bob a little winded, but he
pulled up his reserves and took off.  He heard Jim yell "TIME "  when the
thirty seconds were over.  For a few minutes, he ran freely.  Then he
began to hear the heavy tread  Jim had, as he began to reel him in.
"COMING FOR THE BLOND WITH THE CUTE ASS. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"   Jim
yelled, and soon, he was neck and neck with Bob, and then ahead.    When
he saw the finish line for the run up ahead, he saw Jim sitting on a
stone and... was he naked?
Yes, he was.  His "crotch dragon" was every bit as interesting as his
tatoo.  Bob got there, totally winded and collapsed on the floor.
"OH DAMN.  That was ...." he huffed and puffed  "one helluva good run.
You live around here Dragon?"
Jim got off the rock.  "Close enough.  I live uptown.  I usually run up
there but... it's spring, sap is running, and I needed... relief..."  He
held out his cock.
"You work for us.  You interested in taking care of this?"
"Uh, yeah.  I am.  I hope I can get enough saliva going, Jim."
Jim had a bottle of water velcroed to his shorts.  He handed it to Bob.
"Drink.  Hey, what did you call me when we met today?"
"I think I called you Sir."
"Yeah, use that.  No Jim, no Dragon.  Between us, I'm Sir."
"I can't believe this is fucking happening,"  Bob thought, as he
answered
"Yes sir,"  and took the "crotch dragon" in his mouth.  Jim smiled as he
got to work.
"Good.  GOOD.  Make the guy wanna come back for a second one, or make him
wanna see 'what happens if I do... THIS."  Dragon had double jointed
thumbs.  He bent them back and began running them over Bob's nipples, and
Bob nearly went wild.  He pushed forward, nearly gagging as he took what
he learned later was a cock just under 9.5 inches.  He didn't tell Dragon
that this was his first blow job.  Whether Dragon knew or not,  was
something Bob never found out.  What he DID find out, was that Dragon was
a big, BIG squirter.  Rather than a thick stream of cum going down his
throat, Bob swallowed what felt like a street hydrant stream of cum.
Jim/Dragon had his hands in Bob's hair, and he wasn't letting go.
"You know how many times I passed you at your desk, Bob, and wondered?
Just wondered?  Now I  know.  And I'm glad I do.  Because now... I have
time to make sure that I  mark you as MINE.
"THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING"   bob was thinking, but he looked up and his
eyes said  "yes sir."
Dragon pulled Bob's head from his cock.
"I'd say we gotta keep this secret, but you know what?  No secrets in
that place.  Just know that.  Know what you're getting into."
"I understand Sir."
"We both gotta get cleaned up.  How about we meet... here.  I have a
feeling you're not ready to go into the bar I have in mind alone.  Meet
me at 9.  Pack an overnight.  You're staying at my place afterwards."
For the third time, Bob thought  "THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!"   and
answered "yes sir."
Dragon laughed.  "Ha ha.  You're good at that.  We're gonna get along
fine."

Bob put on the tightest pair of jeans he had, and a black t shirt.
Dragon seemed to approve.  He was in leather chaps, and a mustard colored
tank top.  He wore a leather arm band on his left arm.
"You don't have a band."
"No Sir.  I don't know what that means."
Dragon smiled.  You're gonna learn a lot.  Let me ask you this:  when we
get to my house, and start going at it, who do you think is gonna be
doing the fucking?"
Bob blushed.  "Probably you Sir."
"DEFINITELY ME boy.  That's what this band says.  You wear one on your
right arm.  It says you're receiving."
"What if I want to do the fucking, Sir?"
"Well, I guess that's ok, but not with me.  I got ONE major rule.  I fuck
, my guy gets fucked.  You good with that?"
Bob thought for a minute. He had never been fucked before.
"Sir, I'm a virgin."
"YOU THINK I DIDN'T FIGURE THAT OUT?  GEEZ YOU EVEN SMELL LIKE A VIRGIN.
THAT WASN'T MY QUESTION.  YOU GOOD WITH GETTING FUCKED AND NOT FUCKING?"
Bob paused before answering
"yes sir."
"GOOD.  Now let's get moving."

It was Saturday, and the bar, called  "Cuffs and Stuff"  was jammed.
 Bob was beginning to freak, and Dragon put an arm around him.
"Stay close to me, boy.  It's easy to get distracted.  Do that and you're
fucked.  Stay near me, and you're fucked, but later."
"Yes sir."  For Bob, it was like being taken to a candy store.  SO MANY
DIFFERENT MEN.  Most of them made him look, well, small.  He saw pairs,
like he and Dragon.  Some of the guys had leashes, others had their hands
tied behind their backs, some were shirtless and he saw rings in their
nipples.  He had read about some of this but not all of it.  He felt
Dragon's mouth at his ear.
"Take off your shirt boy.  Tuck it into your jeans."
"Yes sir."  Bob sighed, and did what he was told.
"Now get your hands behind  your back."
Bob felt his cock go rigid.  OH SHIT.  This WAS happening.  His cock got
harder than he remembered it ever getting, as Dragon tightened a
restraint around his wrists.
"Let's walk around.  I'll buy ya that drink after I show ya off."
"Show me off Sir?"
Dragon smiled as he shook his head.
"You don't realize you're one of the hottest guys here tonight?  You
haven't seen everyone staring at ya?  That's why I tied your wrists.
Make CLEAR that you're hear with DRAGON.
"Yes sir.  I am."

The part of the bar that blew Bob away was the back room.  It was being
used when they went in.  There were men cuffed to the walls, most of them
gagged, with tape, or bandanas, or a kind of gag Bob had never seen.
"It's a ball gag, stud.  I got one. We'll use it tonight if you want. "
"This... this is.... almost too much too handle Sir.  I've never seen
anything like it."
"Well, that's fair.  First time is tough.  You like what you see."
Bob went out on a limb.
"I wish I were on that wall and you were doing to me what that guy is
doing to his partner."  He gestured to a couple where a dark haired man,
gagged, was moaning as his partner put fishing weights on a pair of
nipple clams, while he squeezed the bound guy's cock.
"Heh heh.  Simple stuff.   He's a beginner.  But yeah, we can start with
that stuff.  And move up to more interesting shit.  Speaking of."  Bob
felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Still interested in coming home with me?"
"Yes sir.  Even more."
"Good boy."  Dragon grabbed Bob by the back of the neck, spun him around,
and frenched him deep before he led him outside to a cab.

It took about 40 minutes to get to Dragon's place.  He gave Bob a drink
(water), before he ordered him stripped, and then on his bed.  Bob felt
restraints go around his wrists, and then his ankles.  Dragon laughed.
"Geez. You're supposed to get hard when I start playing with you.  Is
that gonna be possible.
"I'm sorry Sir.  I'm just so... excited. "
"Well, let's see what we're gonna use for the 'pop the cherry' game.  We
need... this... "  He pulled out something which Bob learned was called a
ball gag.  He slipped it behind Bob's head and locked in.
"Now, you can chew on it, but you can't speak.  Not my favorite, but good
for beginners.  I like a ring gag... I can fuck your face and you can't
do a damn thing.  Maybe next time."
He looked at other stuff.
"I'd love to hood you, but you'd freak.  Not tonight.  No blindfold
either.  But these... yeah, these.... Just like at the bar.  He grinned
as he ran what he called "beginner's clamps" over Bob's nipples.
"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH. " If these were
beginner clamps, what the hell were the advanced ones like?
"Keep you in line.  "
Then Dragon got quiet.
"You are such a hot looking guy, Bob.  I had a feeling there was a great
body under your shirt, and I was right...  He began kissing Bob's entire
torso, which turned on Bob even more.  Every few minutes, he'd twist the
clamps a bit, and Bob would SCREAM into the gag.  He realized he was
drooling.
"Yeah, side effect of the gag is drool.  Some folks like it, I hate it.
" Gently, he mopped it up with a cloth.
"Ok, bobber.  Here's the deal.  I'm gonna take that rosebud of yours.
It's probably gonna hurt a little, but it'll be better next time.  " He
saw a look of "something" on Dragon's face.
"Keep in mind...the man who takes you first, ALWAYS has a claim to you."
He undid Bob's ankle restraints, lifted up his legs, and saw the scared
look in bob's eyes.
"It's gonna be okay bobber.  it's gonna be fine.  Try to relax. "   Bob
felt the finger press against his hole.  He didn't intend for this, but
his muscles pushed back, trying to repel it.  Dragon was patient, slowly
massaging that spot, until finally, the spasms stopped, and bob began to
enjoy the pressure.  Dragon smiled, lifted his thumb to his mouth, wet
it, and then pushed gently until he opened bob just a little.
He whispered  "the world may be someone's oyster.  My oyster is your
cunt, bob."
He didn't know why, but hearing the word 'cunt' to describe his ass
aroused bob.  He opened up.
"Good boy.  You want this?"  bob shook his head violently up and down.
"How're your nips?  You want these off?  Dragon got an equally emphatic
NO in response, and he smiled.
"OK, let's try."
He pushed bob's legs up in the air, just enough so he could get some
traction with his dick.
"Trust me sexy.  I've  had my share of mancunts before.  I know what I'm
doing."
The 'cunt' word again.  Why was it relaxing bob? He didn't know, but he
took Dragon's cock way easier than Dragon expected.  He smiled.
"I'm flattered, bob. You wanted me."
Bob shook his head again.  OH did he want this man.  The plunging
continued.  Bob had never felt something like this before.  As the
endorphins streamed in, he thought
"Is this how a drain feels when it's being reamed?
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK"  He could feel Dragon pushing harder and faster and
then one push.  One BIG push and he felt the liquid streaming into him.
OH, did he want to hug Dragon.  He wanted to hold him close.  But more
than that, he wanted to shoot.  Badly.
Dragon looked up at him.
"I'm not a cocksucker, cuntbob.  But I always give my newbies one to get
them started."  Bob saw and felt Dragon's lips around his cock, and the
gentle pulling.  Bob had been excited since that afternoon.  It didn't
take much.  Dragon pulled away his mouth  and Bob exploded in a way he
hadn't since the day he got this job.
Dragon looked at him.
"Just understand something boy.  It was sex.  Like playing football
kinda.  It's fun.  Don't start falling in love."
"I understand Sir.  I understand."  In fact, Bob didn't.
He fell asleep in Dragon's arms that night.  The next morning,  Dragon
fucked him again, before he took him to breakfast.
"Can I see you again, Sir? " Bob asked.
Dragon smiled.
"Well, I'll tell ya.  My answer is YES, but try to understand this bob.
We're not committing to each other.  Now I introduced you to what this
is.  Now start dating.  Get out and around.  I'm not monogamous.  You
shouldn't be either.


Dragon had been right about information getting around the office of the
MMA.  People started walking past Bob's desk, and smiling.  Some were
bold enough to ask what it had been like.  Bob did his best to ignore
them.
Dragon wasn't around the office much, but when he WAS there, Bob looked
at him like a lovesick puppy.  The time Dragon said
"Hey bobber.  Got some time tonight?"  Bod did.  He hadn't done what
Dragon said, and instead of going out, he stayed at home and dissected
their nights together.  Over about six months, there were five dates.  At
one of them, Dragon introduced
Dragon untied the bonds, took off the gag, and then smiled.
"This is gonna hurt more than it did when I put them on."  As he pulled
away the clamps, it did.  Bob bit his lip to try not to scream, but
Dragon put him in a tight, tight embrace. "Scream if you wanna baby.
Scream.  It's all good.  It's all good."
"Sir Dragon, that was... that was wonderful."
Dragon fucked bob again the next morning and took him to breakfast.
"Do I get to see you again Sir?"  bob asked, reaching for Dragon's hand.
Dragon smiled, but pulled his hand away.
"We can see each other again, bob, but you gotta understand:  this was
sex.  Not love, SEX.  Just like playing football.  That's not a good
parallel, but... look, what I'm saying is, I'm proud to have been your
first.  I shouldn't be your only, and you're not gonna be mine.  I'm not
monogamous. You shouldn't be either.  Get out.  See other guys.  Put out,
or if you find the right guy, top him.  Do to him what I did to you.  "
bob smiled as he thought of that.
"But look, this was a hook up.  It wasn't a date, it wasn't a marriage
proposal. Don't fall into that."
Bob was still trying to assimilate the night.  It was more than he could
handle all at once.


Dragon had been right about how stuff got around the office.  Within
three days, it seemed that everyone knew.  The athletes didn't really
hang out at the administrative office, so he didn't see Dragon, but the
looks, and the smiles.... There was even one guy who asked was it as good
as he thought it would be?  Bob tried to ignore them.
Dragon had told him to go out with other guys.  He didn't. He stayed
home, and dissected that first night with Dragon and then, as Dragon
called him and they went out again, those.  They went out maybe 5 times
after that first time.  Dragon introduced him to vibrators and dildos,
and Bob ordered himself a  set in different sizes, together with nipple
clamps.  When he wasn't with Dragon, he used them.
On one of their dates, after they had sex, and cleaned up,  they were
heading out to dinner.  As they left the building, Dragon whispered into
Bob's ear  "Put your hands behind your back, boy.  Keep em there when we
walk.  SOME people will know.
"Yes sir."  Indeed, some people did.  They'd walk past bob and the much
bigger Dragon, smile and maybe say "MMM HMMMM"
"they know I'm his,"  bob thought.  It got him even hotter.  So did the
chastity cage Dragon put on him when they got back to Dragon's place, and
bob was retied to the bed, and naked.
"You're not seeing other guys, bob. "
bob gulped.  "How do you know Sir?"
"CAUSE I'D SMELL THEM.  ALL I SMELL IS ME.  IF THAT'S HOW YOU WANNA PLAY
IT, FINE..."   He pulled out the cage, and began applying it to bob's
cock.
"Hey... wwwww  what's that Sir?"
Dragon smiled.  "one of my favorite toys.  It's a chastity belt.  You
can't get erect enough to cum, unless it's off.  And I'm the only one
with the key.  Ha ha.  Now, you'll have to wait till we see each other
again."
"When will that be, Sir?"  Then bob realized:  there was a tour coming
up.  FUCK.  it was 2.5 weeks.  bob had never been so happy to see
Dragon.  He didn't even mind that, this time, in addition to keeping his
hands behind his back, Dragon shoved a 6 incher up his ass and he had to
wear that while they were out - and the leather band on his right arm.


Things changed, rather dramatically, a month later.  Unexpectedly, Dragon
was in the office.  He was sweating, and seemed distracted.
"BOY.  TAKE AN EARLY LUNCH BREAK .  NOW"
Ok... if there were ANY secrecy about their relationship, there wasn't
any now.
"Yes sir." Bob answered, confirming the end of the secret.  I'm ready."
At lunch,  Dragon was stuttering, but he grabbed bob's hand.
"Something's wrong Sir.  What is it?  Maybe I can help?"
Dragon shook his head.
"No, No.  You can't.  It's.... I got an offer for another circuit. WAY
more money than I'm getting here."
"Well that's great Sir."
"It is and it isn't.  It's in Chicago.  I'll be moving tomorrow."
Bob gulped.
"Chicago.  That's gonna make it hard for me to see you Sir."
Now, Dragon looked almost sick.
"That's the thing boy.  I tried to tell you and I couldn't.  I have a
lover in Chicago.  We've been off and on for about six years.  When I
wasn't seeing you, I was seeing him.  You were... how do I put this...
you were the break when things were REALLY bad between us.  I thought it
was gonna be over and... and I'd find myself someone new.  "  He looked
up.
"I'm sorry it didn't work."
Bob was seething angry, and sad, and everything else.  It took a great
deal of composure from a young man, but he found it.
"Dragon Sir, thank you for teaching me everything you did.  I wouldn't
know as much about myself as I do if you hadn't helped me. "  He paused.
"I hope you and your lover are very happy together and of course, I'll
follow all of your matches."  He stood up and Dragon stood up too, as if
to hug him.  Bob held out his hand for a shake instead.
"Best of everything Jim.  I need to leave."

Bob didn't go back to the office that day.  Instead, he cried in his
apartment.  The next day, he called in sick.  He didn't think he could go
back to doing what he had been doing.  But what?  He thought about it:
he wanted to be around men:  big, muscular, sexy, masculine men.  Working
in something like a law office, or a corporation, wasn't for him.  He
needed that sexual tension that he got at the MMA.
The third day, he called into the MMA office and quit. His boss tried to
talk him out of it, said he'd get over Dragon, all the right things.  Bob
was stubborn, maybe pig headed, and he stuck to his guns.
He had enough money to live on for a while without working.  He spent a
lot of time at the gym away from his home, or in the home gym.  His
muscles got even bigger.  Finally, without Dragon to think about,  he
started hitting the bars.  There, he learned a sad truth:  given his
looks and his size, men almost universally wanted him to fuck THEM.  It
wasn't what he wanted. He was looking for another Dragon.  He wasn't
finding him.  He wasn't finding him in the bars, or on line.

Well, if his private life was unsatisfying, maybe.... He saw a flyer for
the Police Academy.  The application was on line.  He filled it in.  Two
weeks later, after they had run the background checks, he was accepted.
He was on the right side of the bell curve, age wise, but he got in.
Five months later, he was officer Robert Michaels.