My daughter

Author: Katie Andrews

It wasn’t until I moved to the city to go to college that I began to explore what feel I had always known. I was different from most other boys. In no time I was putting my legs in the air for other frat, fucking anonymous pickups from seedy downtown bars, and generally having a great time; discovering all those years of pent-up sexual frustration made me one great poke in my post-adolescence.

Well, it wasn’t too long (my second year of college) before I began to seek out more than just the vanilla partners I had been screwing around with. As they do with so many young gay men, my possibilities began to expand. I started going in for the rougher trade men or the men who seemed to have something special to offer. I began to frequent the leather bars, the darker baths, the parks — those places where men descended into darkness to exercise their deepest, most secret fetish desires. By the time I come to my time of my story, I had been fisted twice, tortured, enslaved, peed on, been the subject of mass orgies and sex parties full of hard drugs, sex toys and fetish games, and I was so far removed from being the simple farm boy that had moved to the city scarcely less than two years before as to be considered ‘worldly’ by the standards of most of the men I enjoyed the company of.

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