My first experience with sadism
Sadism is my sexuality. It is as deeply ingrained in me as a man's need to spread their seed and empty their balls is ingrained in them.
I was initially horrified when I discovered this about myself. When I had my first kiss with a boy, I felt the uncontrollable urge to bite my teeth down on his tongue and to feel his blood fill my mouth. I imagined every minute detail: the way his eyes would widen as the pleasure he was expecting suddenly turned to pain, the panicked yelps as he tried to pull away, the horrific wails when he realised he couldn't because my jaws were clamped down on his tongue.
Except that I didn't imagine it: it happened. After his screams brought me to my first orgasm, the guilt and remorse of what I had just done overwhelmed me. I sobbed and begged forgiveness, completely confused as to what drove me to do that to a boy I liked. And why did I like it?
It was on this day that I learned the necessity of consent. I am thankful that the boy just so happened to be submissive in nature and we ended up enjoying a long, mutually beneficial sexual relationship.
It was through him that I discovered male genitalia are perfect outlets for sadism. Manly, rugged, beautiful... and yet so very brittle and with so many nerve endings. His penis and genitals became my obsession.
Soon, he learned to gain pleasure from my pain. He would ejaculate repeatedly as I cut the head of his erect penis with my razor sharp, red nails. He would squeal in pleasure as I used his genitals as a punching bag.
He surrendered himself to me completely and was what I would call my first love. Now, I torture consenting slaves and push the limits of their pain. But even when I am doing this, I am still thinking about that moment when I bit into his tongue and felt the taste of liquid pain envelope me for the very first time.
I was initially horrified when I discovered this about myself. When I had my first kiss with a boy, I felt the uncontrollable urge to bite my teeth down on his tongue and to feel his blood fill my mouth. I imagined every minute detail: the way his eyes would widen as the pleasure he was expecting suddenly turned to pain, the panicked yelps as he tried to pull away, the horrific wails when he realised he couldn't because my jaws were clamped down on his tongue.
Except that I didn't imagine it: it happened. After his screams brought me to my first orgasm, the guilt and remorse of what I had just done overwhelmed me. I sobbed and begged forgiveness, completely confused as to what drove me to do that to a boy I liked. And why did I like it?
It was on this day that I learned the necessity of consent. I am thankful that the boy just so happened to be submissive in nature and we ended up enjoying a long, mutually beneficial sexual relationship.
It was through him that I discovered male genitalia are perfect outlets for sadism. Manly, rugged, beautiful... and yet so very brittle and with so many nerve endings. His penis and genitals became my obsession.
Soon, he learned to gain pleasure from my pain. He would ejaculate repeatedly as I cut the head of his erect penis with my razor sharp, red nails. He would squeal in pleasure as I used his genitals as a punching bag.
He surrendered himself to me completely and was what I would call my first love. Now, I torture consenting slaves and push the limits of their pain. But even when I am doing this, I am still thinking about that moment when I bit into his tongue and felt the taste of liquid pain envelope me for the very first time.
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