Downtown Sodom: Epilogue (So Many Monsters)

What if everyone took their pet monsters off their leash?

     Visiting Steamworks, I was in the middle of a feeding frenzy.  Correction: I was part of a feeding frenzy.  I entered into the bathhouse an attention glutton and I left with my belly full and content.  I imagine the same was true for the other fetishists on board.  The foot freaks had free and unlimited access to my feet.  The voyeurs got to watch me perform several sex acts.  Vorarephiliacs got a chance to nibble on my flesh.  In exchange for my satisfaction, I imagine, I aided in the fulfillment of others.  I find that quite beautiful.

     Watching men return to their lockers and pull up their slacks...button up their shirts...fasten their watches, I realized these are regular men.  No visible signs of perversity.  Sliding my glasses on my face, I also saw that no one would suspect my own dark needs.  Attending work the next day, the evidence of cock was cleansed from my lips.  Walking among the outside world, my stride is unbroken by yesterday's reaming.  Only a psychic could see the appetites returning...or someone with similar proclivities.

     Did I catch a glimpse of what lurks within the everyman?  The need to touch.  The need to feel.  The need to consume and be consumed.  To need to be destroyed.  The need to be built up.  I must admit, it is hard to see people the same since my trip to Downtown Sodom.

Our Fathers

Our Uncles

Our Bosses

Our Brothers

Have a membership to the same shadows...

What they do with it is up to them

Something is being done

But, what

?

"Fellatio Fair" by Alessandro Bavari

Downtown Sodom: The Partialist Party (So Many Parts)

Jaw breaking thick

Life threatening long

Was the infamous Forbidden Fruit black and purple?

     He was pinned between my missionary and our well-endowed friend's doggy-style; I couldn't believe what I was seeing.  He was taking it all in.  While plugged inside of me, Daddy gives him access...and I got a front row seat to watch the plunge happen.  Slowly disappearing, I witnessed his pink orifice struggle to stretch. 

The only thing opened wider than my legs

Was my eyes...

...maybe his hole.

     After Daddy's watery-eyed surrender, I wanted to give it a try...just the tip.  Not the black mamba attached, just the seductive plum swollen atop.  I was curious to see what I could take.

     Inserting himself into me this time, I began to shudder...not in a sexy fashion, but in such a way he immediately withdrew himself and asked, "Are you okay?"

     Catching my breath, "Now I am...I need a break."

This is the spirit of partialism.

     Cruising the bathhouse, there were so many beautiful parts...pieces that made me curious.  Calves to kiss.  Pectorals to grope.  A beautiful quality of this environment was the freedom to touch whomever I liked.  Run my fingers through anyone's hair.  Wrap my palms around anyone's throat.  Anything that tickled my fancy was available to me to fondle.

       Alternatively, the most savory features of myself was brought to my attention.  I felt several tugs on my afro.  Many hands caressed the circumference of my ass.  My waist was gripped to keep me in place.  I was surprised to find teeth sinking into my Devil's Horns.

     So many beautiful parts...so many admirers.  Once comfortable, I began to pull men aside and whisper my thoughts into their ears.  It was an intense feeling to finally express myself, "I love your fucking beard."

Praise, however perverse, is still praise.

"Birsa Symposium" by Alessandro Bavari

Downtown Sodom: The Black Cradle (So Many Eyes)

"Two Sodomites..." by Alessandro Bavari

With my feet and ankles tangled in a web of steel

Momentum becomes my lover...my tormentor...

Their whispers coat my skin

Their eyes fuel my flesh

Impaled on every downswing

Swinging backwards fills me with void 

I find stamina...I find satisfaction...

In a cradle of black leather.

     I never understood the saying, head over heels in love, because I was in the extreme opposite position...and I was deeply in love.  Wrapped in chains, my legs were almost behind my head as he fucked me in long and deep strokes.  Stroking.  Thrusting.  Pounding.  My body conforms to the details of his dick.  I felt every vein.  I felt every curve.  I damn near felt every pink and purple shade of his perfect cock.

     Silhouettes of voyeurs begin to swirl around us.  Hands begin to reach out.  I was being fucked in a sling for the first time before a hungry audience.  Daddy turns my insides into putty as a crowd of men circles around us. Watching them reach down to touch themselves...whisper back and forth with each other...licking their lips with their eyes focused on us...I felt charged by their mass arousal. 

     A voice shoots from the shadows, "Fuck that black pussy!"  The swarm starts to buzz: they're cheering for my Daddy, slapping his ass, wrapping their arms around his rocking body.  Suddenly, golden arms sprout from the unknown above my head.  Rubbing his hands up and down my sides, I can feel his erection bouncing on my shoulder.

     Curled into a swinging snatch, I couldn't see the man who was grabbing the base of my dick...Slamming me against my Daddy's hips...Massaging my shoulders and chest.  Pulling my legs even further back, I was surprised to find my toes in his mouth.

     His Spanish accent hisses over my head, "This is so fucking hot...Fuck that black pussy...You want his white babies?  All over your face?  I love your feet...so fucking hot."  His dirty mantra started to turn me on; he was in a deep zone.  In between swallowing my feet, he starts to speak louder, "He want your white babies, fuck that black pussy!"  Sloppily running his tongue across my soles, "All over his pretty face!"  This guy is proving to be quite the character.

"Three Voyeurs" by Alessandro Bavari

Downtown Sodom: Formicophilia (So Many Hands)

"The Angels of Lot" by Alessandro Bavari

     So many hands, touching me all at once.  Infinite fingertips, each with different approaches.... intentions...skill levels.  Some hands were strong gripping my muscles, others were soft caressing me with care.  Some roamed my entire body, others plugged their fingers directly into my asshole.  It was a gently jarring experience to have some many languages of touch whispering to me at once; overlapping.

Attempting to seduce me...

Attempting to reduce me...

Into a pliable, agreeable pair of opening legs, jaws and eyes.

  

     Swatting away the stabbing trespassers, I began to relax and allow them to cure their curiosities.  I could hear their thoughts buzzing around me: "Is he into nipple play?"  "How's his cock?  How does it taste?"  "How far will he let me go with his ass?"  "I've never pulled a black man's hair before...interesting."

     Reaching out and touching the bodies around me, I felt adored..I felt connected.  I was in the center of endless affection.  Out of the blue, my ass parts as a long tongue slides into me.  My spine stiffens as I position my hips to open further.  Biting someone's shoulder, I let out whimper as this stranger's tongue probes in and out.  Grabbing my ankles, the crowd gets excited.  Other mouths take the liberty of sucking my neck...my nipples...my cock.  Other tongues take the liberty of licking my face...inside my ears...all over my body.  My moans are becoming too loud for comfort.  Whomever's between my legs has a masterful mouth!

     Suddenly, I feel something warm spilling onto me...rolling down my skin.  This splash was followed by several more drops of white syrup.  Stroking myself with their cum, my pearls were cast along with theirs.  So many hands, rubbing me all at once.  The luster of my skin shines from the darkest shadows.  I was showered in foreign seed...and I loved it...and so did the man with the masterful mouth.

A Prologue to "Downtown Sodom"

     For almost a month, I've been trying to write about a singular occasion.  The 'backspace' key is worn out on my laptop, due to me typing...then deleting...typing...then deleting.  I've never had a subject this challenging to put into words.  My brain has been working overtime attempting to capture the chaos I experienced during my first visit to a bathhouse in Berkeley.

     My night was filled with bizarre characters, hot micro-connections and uncomfortable pleasures.  There were no introductions or farewells...no words...very little light.  Can poetry really capture the atmosphere of infinite foreplay and insatiable flesh?  Would words be able to translate the tension I felt being between caution and opportunity?  Hopefully, I can give this moment justice.

     Whenever I have difficulty, I always turn to my most twisted muse, Alessandro Bavari.  His art captures a disturbing space between fairy tales and fetish, which, oddly, takes on Biblical themes as a result.  Furthermore, his work is very dense with detail and layers; the second piece in this post is actually a close-up of the first picture.  Using his art work as inspiration, I'll be breaking my thoughts into different segments.  That night was so rich and eventful that it would be impossible for me to summarize into one piece.

     Warning: these entries are tangled with erotic and disconcerting material; please read with an open mind.  Feel free to make judgments, I am open to any questions or concerns regarding my take on public sex and other risky behaviors.  "Downtown Sodom" is my songbook dedicated to a night of random hedonism.

I: Formicophilia

II: The Black Cradle 

III: The Partialist Party

IV: Epilogue 

   

Praise of a Darker Shade

How do you thank God for being molested?

Would my psalm prove sicker than sweet
if I praise Him for that turning point?

He have delivered me into the hands of monster after monster
with a divine purpose in mind

Why else would He align the shade and shadows so perfectly?

How do you thank God for innocence purer than the dirty floor?

Blessed with the event of standing up dusty yet remaining pristine

Blessed with eight-year-old jaws
strong enough to swallow the dark truth of the world

Blessed with the gift of interpreting the truth out of perversity

Discovering the humanity is wickedness

I am truly thankful because I wouldn’t be me without it

I wouldn’t have the strength I now possess had it never been tested

I wouldn’t be so flexible had I’ve never been bent

I thank God for the shade and shadows,
for it gave me a chance to see my light shine forth

How do you thank God for being molested?

Simply by praising Him for the monsters’ company
and the power to not become one

Simply by praising Him for the severance yet walking away whole

Simply by praising Him for the man I am today

Not broken, but indestructible

Not a victim, but a leader

Not dark, but brilliant

Amen