Category: Blog

Your blog category

Do you have any other caption blogs you’d suggest?

Do you have any other caption blogs you’d suggest?

by ccallenreese

Hi there, thanks for writing. Uh, captionstojerkby​ is annoyingly good. bookofbaitnate used to write but doesn’t so much anymore. femme4masc​ is very consistent if you like that fetish. Same deal with chirenon​. He does some gay chastity photoshop comics which I stick around for, but then completely derails with penis shrinking cuck fetishes and also forced het pony play so there’s uh…variety (I just keeeep scrolling). There was one more bdsm themed one that I can’t fricking find right now. When I locate it, I’ll post it. All their posts end with the bound boy going ‘mmmffgggg??’ in some capacity. Anyone know it? 

Also – I really like reading the real-life stories between gayboykink​ and his boyfriend, the-kinky-bf​. It’s been a delight watching them grow as a couple.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Brendan.”
“Please stop. If we try to have a conversation I’m going to cry.”
I swallowed hard. I reach out for his hand after a moment he takes it, and squeezes it so hard it hurts.
“Brendan…” I began.
“What?” He asks, his voice high and tight. “Just let me suffer. I know once you get on the plane it will be easier. I’ll cry later.” Brendan brushed away a few tears and I pretended not to notice.
“Brendan,” I repeated. “I just made a new decision.”
Brendan raises his head a little. His cheeks are red. “What?”
“We decided it was the mature responsible thing to break clean when I went off to Harvard and you went to the Coast Guard. We lasted two years out of high school together, working and saving….planning for our own futures, but at the same time, self destructing.“ Brendan let’s out a sob. People are staring. I pull him into a hug. He clings to me like a magnet. “But I just cannot let you go. I will wait you for you, Brendan. That’s what I decided.”
My boyfriend is crying too hard to respond. I find myself unable to hold back any longer.
“And if you meet some guy and have hot helicopter sex-”
That gets a laugh.
“Then you enjoy it ok? Don’t waste a hot chance on me. Just tell me straight after ok?”
“No no no,” Brendan finally says. “I will wait for you. I will wait, and I will pine, because I love you so fucking much.”
I hiccup and feel silly. “You’re going to pine for me?”
“Everyday.”
“Awww…Brendan. I love how sweet you are. Shit, there is no way I could ever stop loving you.”

I know for a fact people are watching now. The announcement comes over the speaker: Flight 8498 to Boston now boarding at gate 34b…“
“That’s me,” I said softly.
“No,” Brendan whimpers.
I tilt his head and kiss him. “The waiting starts now. I will call when I land.”

I cant actually remember how I found the strength to remove Brendan’s warm body wrapped around with mine, or how I could get on that plane with that face watching me. All I know is, when I landed in Boston, I was still in tears.

_____________
Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Aaand there. All done. Fresh and clean.”
I watched fondly as Dion smoothed the edges of the bandage. I couldn’t help but give him a little smile. “Thank you for changing that out. Makes me sick to my stomach.”
“Yeah it was pretty gross,” he admitted. “The infection is going away though. What matters is that your leg is gonna be fine right?”
“Yep. The doctor said the surgery went well. I should be able to ski next season. That is, if I don’t get into another car accident, of course.”
“Good,” Dion said, running his fingers over my thigh. “Does it hurt?”
I nodded. “I’ve been cutting back on the pills cause I’m scared of getting addicted to them.”
“Where does it hurt?”
I tore my eyes away from watching his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. I wondered how he shaved so close. I was always scruffy. “Um. It hurts here.” I pointed to the middle of the bandage.
I felt all the air rush out of my lungs when he bent over and placed a most delicate kiss against it. “Better?” he purred.

“Y-yes,” I said. “Also here.” I pointed to a spot on my thigh where a thick scab had formed. I was in my underwear, putting my legs on full display.
“Mmm.” Dion kissed it too.“
“And… here, on my hip, where it’s bruised.”
“Poor baby.” I tried not to gasp as his soft lips brushed my pelvis. He was so close to my crotch, that it was exciting me. I had no idea what sort of game he was playing. Dion was my best friend, but after my accident, he had been there for more than anyone else. He was the one holding my hand when I woke up in the hospital.
“And … here.” I pointed to my sternum, where the air bag had hit it. Dion pulled himself up towards me to reach it. He was so close now I could smell his shampoo. My heart was racing. The air felt thicker, warmer, and it wasn’t just because we were in Vermont, in June.
“Anywhere else?” he asked, his voice raspy. I never noticed before that he had little flecks of gold in his eyes.
“Yeah…” I murmured. “Here.” I placed the tip of my finger on my tongue, hoping, praying, he would take it this far.

Dion gazed at me, looking for answers in my face. I must have looked pitiful and desperate for his attention, all banged up and needy.
“There? What hurts there?” he said in a teasing tone of voice.
“I bit it this morning, eating breakfast.”
He chuckled, a low, velvety bass note. “You really are helpless without me to fix everything aren’t you?”
I nodded.
“Here?” he asked, sliding his finger against my tongue. “Oh I feel a bump.”
I reached up and grabbed his wrist as vertigo swallowed me up. This was becoming too much, this close intimacy. It was going all too fast. “Dion-”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make that feel better too.”
Before I could protest, he dipped his head and pushed his full lips against mine. My jaw muscles clenched to kiss him back hard, then slackened so I could open my mouth and let him in. He rubbed his tongue against mine, kissing me so deeply he stole all the air right out of my lungs. I moaned, and released his retreating wrist so I could cup his cheek.
“Dion,” I gasped between his assaults. He spilled his pent up emotions into me. He was finally allowing himself to taste me and have me after no doubt telling himself for weeks that I was “only a friend”. I felt something nudge against my other thigh and I realized a moment later what it was. Dion was erect and jutting forward. He was wearing thin sweatpants over his jockstrap, I would later discover, and it betrayed him entirely. I resisted rising up underneath him to grind against him, as I was also full of need.
He broke the kiss, and he hovered over me, panting. “Wow,” was all he said. “You feel better?”
“Y-yeah. Better than any pill the doctors gave me.”
“Good.” He began to nuzzle my jaw, not minding the scratchy stubble. “D-…Dion?”
“Yeah?” he said, sounding distant and hazy.
“I have another problem now.”
“Hm?”
“Down there…between my legs. It’s a bit hot, and it hurts a little, because it’s so tight.”
Without even hesitating, Dion reached down and placed his palm over my cock trapped in my underwear. I inhaled, making a rather unsexy sounding choking noise. “Dion!”
“Yeah, that is definitely a problem. Mmn…wow you are really hard. You’re big when you’re hard. Can I…can I touch you, in your underwear? I’ve never gotten to play with a guy before. I’ve always…always wanted to.”
“Ooooh yeah, you can. You’ve done such a good job of taking care of me. I wouldn’t deny you anything.”
“Would you play with mine?” he asked, tilting his head.
“I’ll reward you for everything,” I rasped, unsure if this was really happening.
“Good,” he sighed, petting me. I whimpered. Dion took that as an invitation to kiss me back.This time, I could not resist the urge to frot up against him, and to my sheer delight, Dion squeeze my shaft and rubbed his own against my crotch. My vision began to swim, and my heart thudded in my chest as my dormant sex drive awake. Then, Dion pressed his weight on top of me and the edges of reality began to unravel.

______________________
Text is fictional.

HA

HA

by ccallenreese

GUESS WHO FIXED THEIR OWN LAPTOP AFTER FOUR HOURS OF TROUBLE SHOOTING?

GUESS WHO FIXED THE CORRUPT FILES IN THE “MICROSOFT-WINDOWS-UNIFIED-TELEMETRY-CLIENT” THANKS TO REDDIT AND TECH COOKBOOK?

GUESS WHO UPDATED ALL THEIR DISPLAY DRIVERS WITHOUT FURTHER BREAKING THE OPERATING SYSTEM?

ME MOTHERFUCKER. TAKE THAT CORRUPT BOOTING PROCESS. I WIN.

GUESS WHO IS GETTING A POST TWO POSTS TOMORROW? YOU GUYS. HELL YES.

by ccallenreese

Having problems with my computer. I upgraded my ATI drivers and now explorer won’t run on boot. I had to go to work but I can probably fix it when I get back. Will try to update on break.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

I know you’ve fallen asleep over there, which I’m kind of glad about, because I kind of feel like I’m going to cry. I mean – how dumb would it look to start crying in the middle of a park? Someone would probably go – what an asshole, dude thinks the sky is so pretty he’s crying. Or they’d think I’m on drugs. The truth is, I’m not on drugs anymore. I say the words aloud, just to hear myself say the words and have them be true: “I’m not on drugs. I’m not on drugs anymore. I was on drugs, but I’m not anymore.”

It’s funny – back then when I was a walking poster-child of Florida’s Biggest Problem, I would say the same thing out loud just to cement my denial. I’m not on drugs. I just take them occasionally. Once a day. I mean, I have a job, I’m not living on the streets. I’m not a drug addict. Middle-class white guys are not addicts.
I was so full of shit. I am now somewhat amazed I was able to play the game of mental gymnastics with such Olympic-level skill. The side effects of the drugs were so gradual that I was watching out for them, but I wasn’t prepared for the side effect of lying. Just making shit up all the time is exhausting. Hiding what you’re doing becomes exhausting. The guilt..the lies…the shame. That nagging sense that you’re on the brink of losing control, the paranoia that all your friends know – but they couldn’t know could they?

They had to know about the Vicodin, cause of my car accident and the back pain. But they couldn’t know how many pills. They couldn’t have any idea about the Xanax. Or the Percocets. Or the occasional jag of heroin. They couldn’t know I was going to realtor open-houses to raid the medicine cabinet, or I’d been shopping doctors for prescriptions.

I glance over at Jeffrey. I can’t believe he stuck with me this whole fucking time. I was sure when I got back out of rehab, he would be gone. He was the one who threatened to leave me if I didn’t get some fucking help. I was so blown out at that point that I was negotiating in my head how I was going to get out of this with my little magic pills intact – just go to rehab enough to look clean sober, get myself back down to when I was down to a pill a day – when he didn’t notice – and he would take me back. Looking back on it, I’m disgusted with myself.

Jeffrey does not deserve me. He deserves someone so, so much better. So much more whole. Someone who was not an addict.

Yet he stuck with me through this whole damn time. He kept visiting me, bringing me food and things I needed. Books. Better sheets. Chapstick. And as the drugs began to leave my system, the guilt moved in. I was able to see this man I’d been dating with clear eyes again, and the love came back. And once I let the love do the thinking for me, it began to fight the addiction in full force. I didn’t want to be in love Jeffrey under the influence. I could not do that to him, and should never have done it in the first place. I fully expected to get out of rehab and he would be gone, and I could never tell him just how much his love saved me.

But Jeffery was there in his red sedan, waiting to pick me up from rehab, to take me back to our new apartment in a new neighborhood where we were going to start over. We didn’t go back to normal though. He was scared of me for a week, unsure if the old Brian was actually back. 

I learned that getting clean isn’t just one act. It comes in waves, and most of those waves involves becoming aware of all the damage you’ve caused. Jeffery didn’t trust me. He would check our friends’ medicine cabinets before we went over there. He checked my pockets. Initially, Jeffery declined intimacy, of close contact, and preferred being friends in the same apartment. I was annoyed at him at first for pushing me away, but then I realized it was because Jeffrery was scared I was going to backslide and he was going to be betrayed and have his heart hurt again. They don’t prepare you for that in rehab.

We went to couples therapy. It got better. We celebrated five years together. I lost my job cause of the addiction, but I got a new one. I squeeze Jeffrey’s hand. It’s still getting better, every day.

Love conquers all. Shit, I’m crying in a public park. What a white guy thing to do.

_____________
Text is fictional.

*sigh*

*sigh*

by ccallenreese

So sorry I didn’t post on Monday. The shoddy wireless internet at work wouldn’t connect, and it ate one of my drafts. What a hassle. On top of all these aforementioned long work days, I seem to have the beginning stages of a sinus infection. My whole face hurts. I have Tuesday (today) partially off, then I have another seven days straight of work. I need a houseboy to come take care of things ;_;  I’m really really invested in getting some writing done later today/Tuesday, so again, thank you for your patience.

Also if anyone knows anyone in Colorado with experience in law enforcement and criminal law, please PM me. I can’t find a fact-checker for my next story and it’s just sitting here. Must uh, be ok with butt stuff. Thank you.