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by ccallenreese

Johan’s shy younger cousin Franz followed his favorite role model into the woods to see where he kept disappearing to with men from the village. He sure got a surprise! It was the gasp that gave him away. Fortunately, Johan knows how to lead by example and instead of punishing him, Johan will start teaching Franz how to pleasure a man properly. “Come on out Franz, it’s alright.” He’s just old enough to start learning, Johan contemplates, Maybe there’s potential in there. He knows that a boywhore is always good for the village. Any household lucky enough to have one in the family is almost guaranteed a steady income of coins from locals and passing travelers.

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by ccallenreese

In Western society, we cast downward looks upon anyone who has someone serving under them. Can’t they drive themselves? Can’t they fold their own laundry? Can’t they make their own breakfasts? Is it so hard? That poor maid, the poor nanny, the poor butler, how humiliating.

Yet, no one ever considers that servant would have a desire to serve and the master has put aside his self-sufficiency to give contentment to his slave.

Ever since I was little, I liked to clean, cook, and organize. I was passive, quiet, and observant. My mother worried. I went to college but did not find my way. I threw myself into the BDSM scene, yearning for even a moment to pretend my role was real. After years of play, I was introduced to someone at a fetish party. He was serious; he understood. Like me, he was alone in his perspective. He would not have been out of place in an old English country estate commanding a full staff while simultaneously throwing grand lawn parties and being the perfect host to the lords and ladies.  

There is a private joy in being a good slave. We share one life in both the present and future. He dictates the schedules, chores, and errands and I can do them all without having to pester Him questions. I know exactly what He wants and my actions improve His life.
There is a certain level of psychic communication too. Master will come in from the autumn sleet to find a hot bath drawn and ready, or Master will wake up on a fine spring morning to floral-scented air breezing in through the open windows. Or perhaps, a touch of brandy in his coffee. An extra cookie in his lunch. Warming His bed with my lubricated, naked body for him to find after a long frustrating day running of his business.The list is endless.

He loves me. He is fair. His punishments are just. In public, the curious glances my behavior attracts roll off of me like water on a duck’s back. I show off my collar with pride. I have no shame in being exposed or chaste. It is for His proud gaze and eager touch that I live and the euphoria that accompanies it is my raison d’etre.

There’s a plaque that hangs on the wall in the laundry room that I extol. It says: “A place for everything, and and everything in its place.”

____________
ed note – this story will likely under go some revisions later; I have to go now.

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by ccallenreese

“I love sluts! Sluts rock! It’s just, you know, it’s just gotta be the right slut, you know?” – Coop, from Wet Hot American Summer (which is actually not porn)

Someone fuck this boy, please, he’s begging for attention. While you’re at it, get a pair of outside calipers and measure the roundness of that fine ass for me please thanks.

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by ccallenreese

Oh man… a couple weeks ago at the grocery store, I saw a couple cops handcuffing two rowdy young men trying to buy alcohol (apparently one of them just turned 21). I spent like ten minutes wandering around the grocery store convincing my brain that I wasn’t missing out on a porno being filmed outside. Bad brain, bad.

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by ccallenreese

masterboibinder:

“Boy, I know you used to like playing with that dick of yours 3-4 times a day, but those days are officially gone! That cock has only been locked up for 2 days so you can stop staring at it like it’s been 2 months… Now get your ass spread out on the bed so I can strap you down for the night… no touching allowed even if you are wearing your chastity cage…”

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by ccallenreese

“Nnnnnghhh Sir~” he whines, wiggling around the bed like a puppy. I can still hear the faint whine of the vibrator over his complaining.
“Yes?” I ask, looking up from my phone.
“It’s…it’s too much. I….ahh!”
I lick my lips and watch as he rides out a dry orgasm. He undulates his back and tries to press his locked cock into the sheets, but he can’t get relief nor friction. He’s even more breathless than before. Another frustrated cry passes his lips.
“Feels good boy?”
“I need to cum..oh please unlock me…it hurts, I’m so swollen in my cage…” There’s a growing wet spot of pre-cum in his underwear.
“No boy, you brought this on yourself. You were the one with the issue of cumming early during sex and losing interest, and it was you that came to me for help. I’m reprogramming you to associate pleasure with your pussy now, not the distracting flesh between your legs.”
He whimpers some more, unable to express himself properly, “I want to touch it so badly, one stroke and I’ll cum…at least my balls, please let me touch my balls, just one squeeze…please…”

I look at him. Well that might be a request I can honor. I set my phone down and crawl over to where his ass up in the air. After sliding my hands over the globes of his ass for a moment, I reach between his legs and palm his full balls through the fabric before giving them one hard tug.
The mewling noise he makes sets my cock throbbing. I can smell his pheromones and pre-cum from here. I remind myself that a good Sir though puts his boy’s needs before his own. I sigh and pull away and reach for the remote. With a tiny adjustment, he’s back to begging for release and gasping at the sensations relentlessly hitting his prostate.

“I’m going to go run an errand and pick-up lunch. If you are good, I’ll fuck you when I get back. Replace that piece of plastic with a real cock. Would you like that?”
“Oh god yes, please fuck me I need your cock, just fuck me, I need to cum…”
I swat him on the ass, “You’ll cum for me, with me, right boy?”
He gasps and shudders as another dry orgasm ripples through, feral noises spilling from his throat.
“That’s what I thought.” I put my phone in my pocket and go to run my errands.

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by ccallenreese

porno-graph:

     When they were fucking, they acted like they were lovers. They would kiss and be very concerned about the pleasure they were giving, not just trying to get off. The rest of the time they were just buddies, not really even best friends. They played sports, took classes, went to bars. 

     It built back up quickly, the sexual need that nobody else could fill. Neither had ever been with another man, and their activities had escalated from hand jobs to fucking in a jumbled, quick way. In a private place they didn’t care if it made them bi or gay. These liaisons were the most mind-blowing sex of their lives. It was the feelings that were emerging that were kind of scary.

     They never discussed sliding into deeper emotion. Both felt it happening. This was a dangerous place to go, and it jeopardized a perfect understanding. They left the words unsaid, at least for now. The sex never lost heat, but it was becoming more and more tender, the way a one-night stand ends up living with you for years.