I was basically a straight guy that got dominated into oral sex. As much as I struggled and tried to prevent a strange cock from entering my mouth, I couldn't help notice how hard I was. It was intoxicating to have someone wrest control from me.

It was an experience that had me searching for something similar. Maybe even more intense. There was a submissive awaking inside my psyche that simply needed sating. This is a story of one such experience.

I've traded mail with many men in my quest for someone dominant enough to take my mouth, but all were more interested in putting their mouth on my own cock than shoving theirs in mine. I didn't even want reciprocation. Basically, I wanted to feel totally used. Cheap. Even ashamed. It's how I felt that first time, so that was what I'd hoped to recreate. I wanted to be selfishly used for someone else's pleasure without regard for my own. It was a difficult search.

Then one day I answered an ad titled "Sloppy Blow Wanted". The title alone intrigued me, let alone the attitude the man seemed to have. His kink was getting about as sloppy a blow job as he could get. It appeared he had his own difficulty in finding someone to dominate in a way he wanted as it was for me finding someone to dominate me in the way I wanted. After a few exchanges, we agreed to meet at a motel.

The plan was for him to secure the room and text me the number. I was to go there at the appointed time, strip nude and kneel in a dark corner and await him to enter twenty minutes later. I was also instructed to hold a hand-towel behind myself, and not let go of it until he was done with me and gone - "no matter what." It was those last three words that made me most nervous, but my search with being dominated had grown to the point of obsession. I had to go through with it. Didn't I?

I entered the room and prepared myself. It was a small, cheap room with a single bed the only furniture. There was a large mirror above the sink and a door to a small bathroom to its right. I grabbed a small towel and turned on the bathroom light and closed the drapes. The light offered just the right amount of glow that was enough to see and dark enough to provide a sense of anonymity - and I needed that.

A real fear of being recognized by someone I knew haunted me, but I knew it was too late now. I was committed to seeing this experiment through and could only hope for the best. I knelt in the corner facing the door, grasped the towel with both hands behind me... and waited.

My wait wasn't long before the door creaked open and he entered the room. I could barely make out a satisfying sneer in the dim light. No words were spoken as I watched him remove his clothing. It was a strange feeling watching a man strip down while I was on my knees and nude. The image alone screamed submissiveness.

When he got to his briefs, he slowed his strip. It was as if he wanted to tease me. He put the thumb of one hand into the elastic of his waistband and pulled down just enough to see the base of his shaft while cupping his balls with the other. Yes, he was putting on a show. I felt a flutter in my stomach.

Slowly peeling his briefs downward, he released an incredibly handsome cock. A solid seven inches of shaven sex. I had seen images of it in his ad, but seeing it in the flesh was daunting. I knew what was coming and wasn't sure I could handle it. I could make out a glint of precum forming at the head as he slowly approached. me. I squeezed my towel, hoping this wasn't a mistake.

He took the tip of his dick and tapped the tip of my nose. I could feel his precum wet it. Again, with an approving sneer, he extended his hands and placed them on either side of my head. My head was spinning as he pulled me in and pushed the entirety of his cock against my face. His hips gyrated, grinding his shaft and balls all over. I could feel his cock get even harder. No turning back now - for either of us.

Pulling back, took out a condiment-sized package of honey. Tearing it open, he squeezed out a tablespoon's worth of the sweet elixir onto his dick. He was only inches away and I was mesmerized. I knew what was coming next and was in a state of mind that told me I'd be accepting it all. Whatever inhibitions that remained were quickly fading.

He reminded me that he liked it sloppy. Honey, he told me, would induce a lot of saliva and told not to swallow any of it. None. Drooling would be my only option. I squeezed my towel again and sheepishly nodded.

As he took hold of my head again, I watched that honey-dripping cock for as long as I could before feeling it sink into my mouth. The taste was incredibly sweet and yes, almost immediately began to water. Holding the back of my head, he went deeper and deeper with each pump. Before long, he pulled me hard into his abdomen and sank his cock deep enough to hit the back of my throat. And he kept it there.

It caused me to gag but he held tight and couldn't withdraw. When he finally released me and pulled out, my mouth was gushing with saliva. I could feel my spit oozing down and dripping from my chin. I was catching my breath when he pulled me in again.

Again and again, he'd pull out, add honey to his dick and ramming into my mouth between catches of my breath. It was like he was mining for my spit. An oil rig sucking out clear gold from the depths of my mouth. Occasionally, he'd use his dick to collect my spit and smear it all over my face before grinding his cock against me. I have a clean-shaven face, so I could feel the slippery slime lubricating contact between dick and face. I was lost in sex. Then add to that seeing the bridges of saliva dangling between his dick and my face when he pulled away was almost too much to bear. I wanted to jack so badly but kept my promise to not let go of my towel. 

This regimen continued until he eventually approached orgasm. He pulled my head back hard by my hair and let out a low groan through clenched teeth and expelled huge ropes of semen all over my face. I could feel his cum trailing down everywhere. My cheeks, neck, and even my ears. But he wasn't done. Grabbing my head with both hands again, he pulled my face against him and again gyrated his hips to use his cock and smear my face more aggressively than before.

He wiped himself off, dressed and left. When the door closed behind him, I finally let go of that towel and stood. Knowing I'd be needing a long shower before heading home, I headed to the bathroom and froze. There, in the large mirror above the sink, was a man looking back at me totally drenched in sex. It was like one of those special effects in movies that have the background tunneling behind an actor in shock. Only it wasn't an actor in some movie. It was me!

I was looking all that fluid mess dripping down my body. My hair was disheveled, standing up with wet gel. My face was almost unrecognizable with enough spit, precum, honey and semen to be trailing and dripping down my chin and neck. My chest was soaked too. And even my belly was wet enough to drip onto my own dick. I couldn't believe it was me in that mirror. I certainly looked the part of someone used and discarded. I wrestled with the depths of my submissive experiment. I felt a great shame building inside myself. How could I allow anyone to do this to me? What was I becoming? What the fuck did I just do?

I stood there and simply watched in awe of all that fluid sex cascading down my body. Had I gone too far? I was shaking with the realization that my curious experiment has come to illustrate what a truly submissive cock slut I truly was. The image of that sex-soaked man in the mirror will forever haunt me when trying to deny otherwise.