MEMBER ARTICLE - From Sexual Outlaw to BDSM Sub
from
Recon News
23 November 2021
By lilguy9
My interest in BDSM dates to John Rechy's Rushes. I came to the novel sometime in the mid-eighties. Even then - as abstract as it was to me at the time - something resonated. And the memory of the scenes in the novel got tucked away alongside adolescent fantasies of being naked, at the feet of a man, older, and in charge. What linked them for me was the reverence with which Rechy wrote and the reverence in which I held the man who inhabited my unformed adolescent desires.
Growing up there were always boys, boys I idolized, boys who allowed me to follow them around. My mom recently told me of a time she overhead another kid say to one of these boys about me, "you know he is a fag don't you"? The boy said, "I know, I don't care. I like him."
I remember that boy. I was in the fifth grade; he was in the sixth. He was tall, handsome, quiet, assured, strong, and confident. He walked me home from school each day, essentially protecting me from being beaten up. And there was something about walking in his shadow that gave me comfort beyond the assurance that I would make it home.
Another, I remember, was in college. We were in an opera together. It was a one act, with a cast of two: a Count and his mute servant boy, who followed him around, did his bidding, and was the beneficiary of his aggression. The plot escapes me, but the nature of the relationship between our two characters, the dynamic between us as actors, and my feelings both on and off the stage do not. Also, I remember the director telling us, "I don't know what's going on with you two, but whatever it is, don't stop it."
Before I discovered Rushes, I had read much of Rechy's other work, including his 1977 "documentary," Sexual Outlaw which posited that men having sex, men having sex in public, men having sex with a multitude of men, were revolutionary acts, acts in defiance of what is now called hetero-normative and the neutering of our sexuality under the guise of assimilation.
And I jumped right in: Griffith Park, Elysian Park, the men's room at Bullock's Wilshire. The alleys behind Melrose Avenue. The alley behind Circus of Books. The Vista Theatre, plus others, one on Melrose, where the projectionist would let me into his booth to suck his dick. There was not a bathhouse or sex club in LA County to which I didn't have a membership. In fact, the first sex club I went to was in the back of Drake's Books on Melrose the night of my 21st birthday. The attendant checked my ID and asked if I was sure I wanted to go in, if I knew what went on "in there." I did not know, but I said yes. There was Basic Plumbing on Fairfax, the Hollywood Spa on Ivar, with its grand staircase, and the 8709, where I spent many a night being worshipped in the mirrored maze in scenes that fed not only my ego but my fledgling exhibitionistic streak. There were no excursions into BDSM specifically, but there was one memorable night being tossed around a hotel room by a certain Irish pop singer's Tour Manager. For years nothing compared.
In my romantic life I attracted guys who wanted to take charge, though in ways I found condescending and claustrophobic. The ones I subliminally wanted to take control were quietly confident and strong, and, too, unaware of the power dynamic that was a part of our attraction to each other. I don't know which is worse: misunderstood desire or unacknowledged intention. In any event, my experience grew, interests evolved, and I settled into "sex-scape" that included clubs, baths and backrooms, groups, anonymity, exhibitionism, sleaze, spit, and a fair amount of piss. And then I discovered Kink.com and Bound in Public. I was initially attracted to the exhibition and the gangbangs. What I stayed for were the submissive and BDSM components. And over time I began to wonder what it might be like to be beaten.
I took a tentative step by reaching out to a professional Dom to express my possible "future" interest. He was gracious and I'm sure did not expect that the "future" would ever arrive, that he would hear from me again within a couple of years, though I do think it was about that long. I'm not sure what changed, but there were two guys with whom I occasionally played who took charge, challenged me, and pushed me outside my comfort zone - and I liked the feeling. My first identifiable foray into BDSM was then with that Professional Dom, Michael DeCrow, a colleague of his, David Hunter, and one of the aforementioned buddies. I almost backed out three times. I spent the two days prior identifying nonexistent medical issues and even scheduled a doctor's appointment the morning of the session to confirm I had some sort of highly contagious sexually transmitted infection. It was only because of my buddy that I didn't cancel. I saw his interest as validating my entry into the Community and I didn't want to disappoint him, or me.
Prior to our session I had prioritized a list of "activities" to include flogging, e-stim and watersports. I knew I would be used; I knew I would be gangbanged. There would be video so I'd get the exhibitionism and I would be blindfolded so there would be a degree of anonymity. I didn't know what the scene or atmosphere would be like, but I didn't expect what I got, which was the most beautiful experience. The entire encounter was shot in blue light and has a fantastical, reverent quality to it.
I arrived plugged and caged and we began with me stripped and surrounded as I was made to disrobe each of the others in turn. I was blindfolded, and after I serviced each, I was shackled to a frame where like a romp around me as the maypole, I was choked and stuffed with cock. While at the frame my long anticipated, expected affinity to flogging was affirmed. I then found myself restrained to a bench and spit-roasted, until such time as my ass was introduced to the sensations of e-stim, while the two other guys played in the background. On the bed then, while Michael set up in another room, David and my buddy proceeded to use me in a manner that came across visually as highly stylized and with promises that included double penetration and breath play.
In the bathtub then, all pissed on me, and Michael pissed in me, pulling out mid-stream and shoving his hard cock back in my hole with the words, "you really are a nasty fuck, aren't you."
We ended with me on my back in a sling, in a gas mask filled with poppers, an anal orgasm, two loads in my ass and one on my face, and piss and cum leaking out my hole.
The evolution since then?
There has certainly been much more. The promise of double penetration and breath play has been realized, even if there is much further to go, I can take a flogging like nobody's business, and I have a love/hate relationship with needles. CBT has become an obsession, and a recent experience with hypnokink is seeming to tap into some very intriguing, if darker, possibilities. I have started to slowly make my way into the local kink community and have been met with only welcome and support.
The biggest change however has been in the evolution away from anonymity, hook-ups, baths, and backrooms. I still have my moments, to be sure, but I'm no longer the roaming sexual outlaw. Through my exploration into kink, I don't even have to think about it, I have found my purpose as a BDSM sub.
***If you'd like to share a fetish or kink experience in a member article, send your ideas or a first draft to: social@recon.com
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