Announcement Beijing Expat Encounters: The Canadian Pilot Who Stripped For Me—Begged For My Phlegm

[shanghaidomme]

I met a hot pilot in Beijing for a BDSM session, and from the moment I commanded him to strip, he had my full attention. There was no hesitation, no nervous fumbling—only a smooth, deliberate unraveling of himself before me. He stripped with an effortless grace, as if seduction were second nature, as if he knew exactly how intoxicating he was. His movements exuded confidence, each article of clothing sliding off his body with an almost ceremonial precision. I could see it in the way he carried himself—bold yet refined, powerful yet pliant, an intoxicating paradox of dominance and submission. The sight sent a rush of excitement through me.

His firm chest, sculpted shoulders, and taut abdomen were on full display, each flex and movement revealing the discipline of a man accustomed to control. And yet, here he stood, utterly exposed, surrendering that control to me. The irony was delicious—a man who commanded an aircraft at 30,000 feet now grounded, standing bare before me, awaiting my orders.

And this wasn't our first time. This was our second meeting. The first had already stripped away his inhibitions; the second would strip away even more.

Then came his wish. Not for touch. Not for approval. Not even for my amusement. No—what he wanted was far filthier. His reward of choice was my phlegm, my spit. He longed for me to degrade him in the most visceral, demeaning way, to baptize him in my disdain. The confession made my lips curl into a wicked smile. This proud, well-groomed, self-assured man—this embodiment of masculine elegance—was nothing more than a desperate, eager wretch before me, craving the very essence of my contempt.

I let the moment stretch, savoring the anticipation flickering in his eyes. The thrill of power coursed through me as I took in his vulnerability, the quiet desperation behind his restrained composure. He wanted to be humiliated. He wanted me to use him. And I intended to give him exactly what he deserved.

A second meeting in Beijing meant an even deeper fall into submission. I intended to make sure he never forgot what it meant to kneel before me.