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rubberyell:

masteraquila:

the-puppeteer-1976:

slaveoli:

@masteraquila spanked me so hard that he ended up with big blood blisters on his hand. @rubberyell continued to spank me with the bible when we got back to the hotel room. Still hurts to sit 🙈 Of course I needed to be punished for the blisters on Masters hand so Sir and @the-puppeteer-1976 took turns at whipping me

I did not know that @rubberyell hit your ass whit a bible fucking sweet. Love that. I Hope that @masteraquila his hand wil soon be in spanking mode.

I can still spank just as hard with my other hand 👋

Bible basher :p

I love everything about this – the relationship between a Master, his boyfriend, and slave; their friendship with the rope guy; their off color banter and sense of humor….and the fact they post it all on Tumblr. So wonderful to see kink making people happy and bringing them together in non-traditional ways.

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Soft music played from the speakers. The warm water soothed our yoga-sore muscles. The vitamin E oil in the water mixed with the rose oils and petals made it feel like we were soaking in liquid silk. Benedict was reclining against my chest, eyes closed. I could see the tiny movements of his eyes under his pale lids. I kissed his temple. He smiled and reached for his wine glass.

These were the moments I never thought I’d have with Benedict. With a more casual lover, I would have just broke up with him, but there was no easy with out of this one. I was smitten, in love. I wanted a life with Benedict, but one thing had almost been a dealbreaker: his sex drive.

Benedict’s sex drive simply did not have an off button. He craved sex frequently and fervently. He seized upon any instance to touch, stroke, suck, or put my dick inside of him. After being with him for a while, I began to see two distinct patterns. One was just random horniness that needed to be soothed, usually in the morning. The other was a side-effect of exposure. He couldn’t see me change, or catch a glimpse of me in the shower without getting hard and wanting to turn it into sex. If Benedict saw my bulge while I watched TV in my boxer briefs, he had to try and turn it into sex. Don’t get me started on swim trunks. We had a talk about it more than once.

I hated letting him down, and leaving him frustrated, especially because surprisingly Benedict wasn’t a big fan of masturbation. He didn’t like the way it made him feel. He felt stupid, and kind of gross, especially after, so he tended to ignore his urges until they were pent up. As long as he had a boyfriend, Benedict did not see the point of self-pleasure. However, he was wearing me out. Also sex wasn’t really appropriate or possible in some instances, which lead to stress in our relationship.
What drove me crazy thought was that I could see the potentional of our relationship underneath the river of hormones, I just couldn’t dive down deep enough without being swept away. Benedict wanted to cuddle. He wanted to be romantic. He wanted to go on dates, and have fun, without bringing sex into everything. Benedict told me once he wished he could see nude bodies in museums the way artists did, instead of how perverts did.

That’s when I realized Benedict knew that he was out of control himself, but was too embarrassed to confess. So, I decided to take the Big Step Forward in our relationship and assert myself. I locked his cock up in a pretty metal cage. No pesky erections. No distraction. No masturbation. Turns out, that his rampant hunger to be fucked only reared itself when he was fully hard and ready to go. So as long as it was locked down, his sex drive only simmered. It was much more manageable. The orgasms I gave him were more powerful and lasted longer. Plus, Benedict found it fun to delay his orgams until I could give him a really big one. He wouldn’t beg for sex either, but found himself pausing, remembering the fun of preferring long nights in the bedroom with toys instead of quickies.

Slowly, we began to enjoy the rebirth of our relationship. Here we were in a scene I never thought possible: we were having a bath. That’s it. Just a bath, both of us, completely nude, completely wet, and Benedict’s hand was no where near my cock. He was sipping his wine and just relaxing. It was wonderful to just be us. I mean, we went to yoga as a couple today, and Benedict was an angel.

I put my arms around his waist. Now, I could see a future together. The same key that opens the chastity cage can also be used to open the key to a boy’s heart.

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Text is fictional.

Problems updating remotely

Problems updating remotely

So apparently there’s some issue with updating my Tumblr from a tablet or smart phone. The drafts say they save, but when you go into the draft again the changes have been discarded. Reblogged posts with captions don’t show up at all, and you can only reblog a photo if you haven’t put a caption in it. 

This is why I couldn’t update Thursday or Friday. I had two drafts ready, but were unable to post because I wasn’t near my laptop. Part of me thinks it’s the internet, but since it worked in other aspects I’m not really sure…might be the app. So I’m sorry for the lack of posts the last two days. Sigh.

I just put up one of them now. 

Goddamn Tumblr ate my entire draft. Rolling 10/10s post into Friday. Been non stop crazy here with work, but will be free this weekend to write plenty!

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“Hm.”
“What are you thinking about babe?” Saul asks, wondering what has his husband’s attention.
“I’m thinking that piece of art we bought looks like a penis.”
“…I thought that’s why you bought it?”
“…I just bought a huge piece of art that looks like a dick.”
“Can we put it over the sofa?” Saul suggests.
“You know what, that’s actually a great place for it. “But first…can you scratch my back please? Your nails feel amazing.”
“How about you put up our new art, lie down on the sofa, and I’ll not only scratch your back but give you a massage and a handjob too?”
“Shit babe, you sure how to drive a hard bargain.”
Saul chuffs through his nose. “Is that what we’re calling your dick now? Hard Bargain?”
That makes his husband laugh. “Now, now. His name is Stud, and you will address him correctly.”
Saul smiles. “I am so glad I married you. But you’re wrong. Your dick’s name is mine.”

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Text is fictional.

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The party was thriving right outside the simple, pressboard door but it might as well have been in a separate dimension. I could hear the thump of the Spotify playlist I made, and the occasional sprinkle of laughter or shouting from a drunk guest. It was Christmas in New York, and we had passed our exams and we were all going a little crazy, being a little bold. It must have been the champagne though. I mean why else would I get up the courage to flirt with that guy in my life drawing class that I been pining for all semester? 

Santa must have decided I deserved a present early, or maybe Todd was just as drunk I was, but soon he was pulling me away from the noise and activity to a spot where we would be alone. We found a place, then a chair.
I had always prayed he was a top. It wasn’t like me. I was stereotypically gay as they came but I still didn’t like the idea of being a sissy. I imagined myself to be more of a power bottom than I actually was, but Todd saw right through me. He knew to put me on his lap and assert himself and hold me in place.

Todd’s hand on my side tickled a little, and the heavy pressure of it made my heart flutter. My cock also found it very interesting.
I didn’t have time to linger on my rising panic as the bulge in my pants grew. Todd nuzzled me, then gently guided my chin forward with his artistically skilled fingers and pressed his lips to mine. My brain shut down. 

How long we sat there like that, gently kissing, I’m not entirely sure. I know at some point, the door opened and the party rudely spilled into our private space. It was loud and ugly and I wanted it to go away. I know someone said, “Hey Todd have you seen ….ohhhh about time” and then the door closed. But I didn’t look up to see who it was. It was in another dimension, you see. Far away. It did not concern me. I was living in the present, happily being seduced by a beautiful boy in a fine blue shirt with a perfect chin that fit right between my fingers. 

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Text is fictional.

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“Shit. Your jock face is on the fuckin’ news boy. I thought you told me no one would look for you if you went missing? I mean you posted that shit up and down that forum. I was so nice and go and kidnap you and now you’ve got me in a fucking mess. Shit. I was gonna wait to string you up and work you head to toe after dinner, but I think I’m gonna do it now. I can’t eat when I’m annoyed, and it’ll build me up a nice appetite.” Jim crunched the beer can he just finished and tossed it into the trash can. It missed. He snorted. He’d make the boy clean it up later. With a groan, he got up, knees cracking, and turned off the TV. “There. That’s better. Nice and quiet. Just us now. You still alive in my closet boy?”
“Mmmphh!”
“Excellent. Be right back. Gonna go get changed. Wanna look my best when you see me for the first time,” Jim chuckled and wheezed. Shit, he really should be exercising more. Wait a second – flogging a boy was exercise wasn’t it? 

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Text is fictional.

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pupblaise:

Feeling right at home in Seattle thanks to @seabondagesadist

My whole life, I’d been drifting. One apartment to another, one motel to another. Then, one foster home to another. Constantly rotating. Never settling. I barely graduated. Tried college for a bit, but got antsy. I traveled around doing various labor jogs in the gas industry. During the day, I’d work brutal 12 hour shifts and at night, I’d go online and talk to this guy Blake in Washington State. We had a lot in common – same tastes in TV shows, same kinks, same preferences toward men. He liked them a bit furry and well, I happened to be a pretty textbook otter. Soon we moved the conversations to phone calls and text messages, although that soon turned into sexting. No matter where I went, Blake was just one click or call away. I became a little addicted to him. Blake was my anchor.

When yet another job dried up, this one in Alaska, Blake said: “Come live with me.” I was astonished. It had been two years, but we had never met. I expressed some concern and he said, “Well come stay with me until your next job”. I had no where else to go, so I did what I always did and just drifted. This time, south. I hitched in Canada and guess where he was going? Seattle. I felt that I was being pulled there, so I went.

I found myself so excited to meet Blake for the first time. It was a feeling I wasn’t using to experiencing. I was nervous, jittery. Our first conversation was awkward. I couldn’t stop stuttering, nor could I stop staring. The face I’d seen in so many pictures had come to life in front of me. He was far more handsome than any Skype chat conveyed. First date jitters all over again. Blake made me dinner. We both played polite, but by the next night we were both naked in his bed. It was the most comfortable bed I could ever remember sleeping in…well, ever.

After a week of getting to know each-other and falling in love all over again, Blake offered to tie me up. Of course, I had wanted that. I wanted it since Day 1, when I stumbled upon all his beautiful bondage work on his Tumblr. The first time he tried, I came immediately and ruined the session. The second time around, we fooled around for a bit and he edged me for half an hour until I came. That was better. When Blake took out the rope, I was pleasantly still horny but much more calm. 

On went the ropes. On went the mask and the gag. Away went the sounds, the distractions, movement. As I laid there, immobile and restricted, I realized this was the first time I had ever been physically prevented from going anywhere. I was stuck. It felt so secure, so comfortable, just to be some place and not having anywhere to go. I didn’t want to go anywhere either. For the first time, I wanted to stay. I felt a little emotional but forced myself not to react and spoil the session.
Instead, I closed my eyes and drifted into headspace. Blake told me later that I dozed off for a bit and he kept checking my pulse, scared that I was going to die. I loved hearing that, knowing he was attentive and focused on keeping me safe. I don’t remember him checking my pulse at all. I was so deep in a meditative trance that when he untied me out of concern for my circulation – and that it was 2 in the morning – I momentarily could not remember what day it was. I just wanted to cuddle.

I learned something important that night. I had been bucking advice my whole life to just settle down somewhere, but what I had been seeking the entire time was for someone to ask me to stay. I wanted someone to want me to stay. I wanted someone to keep me as theirs. The next day I decided to tell Blake if I ever decided to leave, he was to tie me up again until I changed my mind. But he beat me to it. Over breakfast, Blake asked me if I would stay for good. He wanted me to get a permanent job in Seattle and live with him and share his bed. Poor guy, he was so alarmed when I began to cry.

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Text is fictional. This is @pupblaise, all tied up. Source is above.