Feeling 22

 

Okay. I'm 22 now. Fuck.

To be completely honest, I didn't expect to live to 22: not in a suicidal way, more that I could never actually envision myself as a human who has lived for 22 years. Looking back, it felt a lot like trying to imagine a fully-fledged person, and instead being met by a shadowy outline floating about in the corner of the room, like some sleep paralysis demon. Only horny.

But as I sat there, on my desk, counting down the minutes to midnight, composing scheduled tweets to get me through the morning stress-free, I began to wonder: what does it mean to become 'older'?

Given the world of kink and fetish, I've always surrounded myself, and even felt more attracted to, men who were older and ESPECIALLY more experienced than me. I saw these people as metaphorical goal-posts in the theory and practice of BDSM, people to aspire to become. These folks in their latex/lycra/leather, feeling self-confident in themselves and their abilities, able to tame a [willingly] rowdy pup with a swing of their paddle; I wanted to become them.

Then I began to take notice of the other folks around me who were my age, if not younger. Who were also equally confident, allbeit a little more high-energy, who were able to create large social circles around them, slutting out on the dancefloor without a care in the world, and through one way or another, quickly building up a following for themselves online.

It was at this moment where I realised that while, yes, I am definitely going arch my back for anyone who looks and is more mature than me, I didn't really see the number of years a person has lived as the bar on which I judge whether I want to be around them or not...

Given how risky some kinks can be, it's no wonder I feel more safe and comfortable around those who have spent quality time (months or years) mastering their niche in kink, and to that end, mastering it to the point where they are willing and eager to open the door for new pleasures for baby subs to explore.

Smash cut to August's 'Club Locked' at the Eagle

It's been who-knows-how-long since I was last in Manchester for Club Locked, by far one of my favourite monthly events in the entire country. Two friends, housemates, were more than willing to let me crash over at their place for the weekend, and even met me in town to help guide me over to theirs (its a bit of a trek via. tram, and its easy to get lost in the streets if you aren't paying close attention).

No less than having one foot in the door, and I'm already on my knees, worshipping their feet, being called a 'good boy' while they were teasing and tugging on my already-hard bulge. In exchange for a roof over my head and time spent with two lovely folks, I was to be their plaything/chewtoy. Honestly it was the perfect arrangement for me. Outside of play, we joked about, catching up on recent history: I talked about how I was due to start my new job shortly; they talked about job prospects and plans for Doggy Weekend in November.

This cycle of play and casual-conversation continued for a few hours, before we began to get ours ready for Club Locked. I went with my classic, full rubber outfit (chaps and zip-up vest) while also sporting some FkMe gear (obviously), while my friends put on their outfits and donned their pup hoods. I will admit, it was also my first time 'stealthing' rubber in public, and feeling the sweat drip down my back, down my crack and soaking my jeans was not exactly the most fun experience, but soon enough we arrived at the Gay Village.

We had missed the pre-meet social at 6, but I nonetheless spotted a few of the FkMe guys (fellow creators and friends who are part of FkMe's networking group), and we quickly began to chat (it did take them a second to notice me though, since I had shaved my beard and trimmed my hair down to the point where I looked nothing like my previous self), and soon enough, the merry band of FkMe models/friends went into the event, and began to do our own thing (it's also always fun to get a shoutout from Bellus, one of the most rambunctious and upbeat hosts in England)

Because it's been so long since I was at the Eagle, it also meant it was a long time since I encountered some of the other friends I had made, and my god had they grown. One pup, originally bratty to the point of asshole-ry, had matured quite a bit, and developed a subtle flair of seduction, almost like a kinky, romantic vampire; another was obviously a lot more comfortable being public with their sluttiness, spending no-more than 5 seconds between making out with a new man; a 3rd was a pup I've known for a few months, but it was my first time seeing them in person. Then my other housemate arrived (he was running late because of needing food before the event), but to my 'shock', he had brought some shock collars with him...

Now I have tried e-stim before, but never with a collar, and certainly never for a prolonged period at a public event. Having had the collar strapped to my thigh, and knowing full well the shock I'd receive at the whim of the controller, I had to obey every command, first-time round, or, infront of the many kinksters around me, receive a zap sharp enough to make me yelp and yip out loud.

Sometimes, I'd be in the middle of a conversation, and would need to spin around in place to avoid the shock collar, other times I'd need to beg, arms up to my chest... Even then he'd feel sadistic and still do it just so he could see the excitable fear in my eyes, and ever-leaking cock...

Oh, did I mention he had two shock collars. Yeah. That was fun, being in the darkroom with a fist up a guy's arse, while having BOTH thighs quivering from the gradually increasing intensity of the e-stim...

What I mean to say is, all of these people I met, all the people I've play with: I respect and am heavily attracted to them all, not because of their age, but because of how far they've grown as an individual. I didn't let my friend e-stim me because he was older: it was because he's experienced with it, constantly checking for my consent and respectful of my limits, without compromising on his own. And likewise, while I'm 22 now, it don't really 'feel' any older. I'm still the same horny, good boy as I was for the past few years (although now I have a few more experiences and kinks under my belt)