Tag: faggot

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Mikhail posed for a portrait showcasing his two favorite things in the world – his family’s old summer dacha and his beloved pet faggot of ten years. He loved to bring the boy out here to the wilds outside of St. Petersburg and live nude and unencumbered by work or societal standards. Mikhail wanted a good photo to commemorate his life happy before he got old and out of shape. He had to wear shorts of course, so he could show it to people that didn’t follow his particular lifestyle.

While the photographer was messing with the light meter or something, the faggot noticed the tempting out-line of Mikhail’s cock in his shorts. It was pronounced, half erect, as Mikhail was excited by fresh air and the promise of vacation after being stuck in a car for hours. The boy’s instincts took over. It needed attention, so he gave it. He began to mouth the shape through the khaki fabric, ignoring Mikhail chiding him and squeezing the back of his neck. He muttered, “Not now, boy,” but the tone of his voice didn’t match the words.

The photographer got himself together and said, “Ok, smile!” but the faggot was no longer paying attention or taking orders from anyone that wasn’t his man. He was lost in playing with the throbbing cock he found hidden up Mikhail’s shorts. Mikhail shrugged and indicated for the photographer to take the picture. It was a more accurate representation of their relationship anyway.

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Text is fictional.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Look-outs were the worst. It was you, alone, in this old blue car parked a crumbling curb in some shitty neighborhood. Ace would go inside and negotiate deals on territory so his dealers didn’t get shanked for being on the wrong corners. Ace’s business was growing; he recently inherited a bunch of territory in a compromise deal. Cabrini liked that. It meant more money for him and for his expensive toys. Electronic toys. Toys with motors. Toys that made things explode. Yet sometimes he felt a bit like Ace’s dumb watchdog, sitting out here in the car while Ace went off and did all this shady bullshit. He smoked his cigarillo and gazed out across the empty suburban street at the ramshackle houses tucked behind huge trees. With a cul-de-sac behind him, he only had to watch in one direction.

It was 2 pm on a Tuesday. There was no one here. He sighed and tapped his ashes on the ground. Boring boring boring. Soon they would hit the forty minute mark. At least Cabrini had one thing going for him. Ace had left his faggot in the car too. He didn’t know much about him, just that he was some drug runner from Ace’s original outfit that had fucked up in some way. Ace had found much better use for him as a faggot, and the boy seemed quite content with that. Cabrini had asked him about that once and he shrugged and said, “Well I still have all my teeth.”

That he did. Cabrini knew this for sure because he liked to help himself to Ace’s faggot once in a while. Ace never explicitly said he couldn’t, but he would have been an idiot to not know this was going on. Besides, it wasn’t like Cabrini was raping him. Left alone with a hot guy and an ignored cock, a faggot will always eventually go for the meat. 

Cabrini heaved a sigh of relief as the faggot decided he was done waiting. He buried his head in Cabrini’s lap, and when he wasn’t pushed away, extracted Cabrini’s cock from his pants. He got his lips around his cut dick and his hands around his balls, making content noises as he sucked and licked.

Cabrini smoked, occasionally groaning or hissing, as the faggot coaxed to his cock to its full erect state with his talented tongue. Getting a blowjob at 2 pm on a Tuesday was wonderful. Cabrini loved the way the faggot ran the textured surface of his tongue over the slit of his glans as he rolled Cabrini’s testicles in his fingers. Cabrini fantasized about having a big workshop, leaving it after a long day of tinkering with his toys, and coming inside for a round of good sex with a boy like this. He dreamed of being rich and powerful enough to have a faggot or a sub of his own to follow him around everywhere.

Cabrini was deciding that Ace could take as long as he wanted in there when he heard a car. He watched it drive down the street toward them. Cabrini sat up and tensed. He put a protective hand on the faggot’s neck, not wanting him to stop even for this, as he craned his neck to see. The vehicle parked in the driveway of the house across the street from him. He saw one head. He held his breath. An old lady got out. Cabrini exhaled in relief and watched her haul a grocery bag stuffed with yarn up to the house. He sent an update via text message to Ace’s phone.
Ace replied: “Cool. Almost done here.”
“We’re sitting ducks. We need to move.” Cabrini wrote back. He wasn’t expecting a response and he didn’t get one. Ace would take all the time he needed to complete the deal. If it was going to go sour, it would have happened already. Cabrini’s text was a bluff. If he would have said: “Take your time”, then Ace would have known he was playing with his faggot. Cabrini didn’t want Ace wrapping up business with his thoughts of his second-hand-man playing with his pet out in the car, and in theory, not doing his job, although he was.

“That’s a good boy,” Cabrini moaned under his breath. “Suck it you faggot. Good boy. Nhhg …” Cabrini held out for as long as he could, but that boy had talent and the orgasm peaked hard and sudden. He came in a rush, and bucked up into the faggot’s mouth to empty his seed down his throat. The young man eagerly lapped it up; not a drop hit Cabrini’s pants or the seat cushions. He massaged Cabrini’s balls until they hitched again and the rest poured out. “Fuck you are good at that,” he crooned.

He watched through heavy lidded eyes as the faggot cleaned him up and tucked him back into his pants. The young man then rested his head on top of Cabrini’s crotch and began to fall asleep. Cabrini gave him a few pats on the head and chewed on the cigarillo butt.

Not two minutes later, Ace came out, swaggering. The car sank down a little as he got in.
“Success?” Cabrini grunted.
“Damn straight man! Come on, let’s go to Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles. I’m goddamn hungry and we gotta lotta planning to do. I got so many corners now, I don’t have enough people to staff em! We gotta hire, Cab, you think I should run an ad on Craigslist?” He threw his head back and laughed.
Cabrini chuckled and shook his head. “Business will be good?”
“Business will be ah-fucking-amazing soon enough. You will be able to buy that drone you keep harpin about.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Aww, did Georgy fall asleep on you?”
“Yeah he’s out cold. Guess he got bored.”
Ace turned the car on and set it going down the street. “Yeah he never did have a lot of patience. He better get his rest though, he’s gonna be busy tonight. Fucker can sleep under the table at Roscoe’s for all I care as long as he can stay up all night pleasing me.”
Cabrini glanced down at the faggot. He felt a moment of panic when he still saw a fleck of his cum on the boy’s lips. He brushed it away when Ace’s eyes were on the road. Food would be good. It would surely get the taste of cock off his breath. Ace put the cigarillo stub away in a small metal case he carried on his keychain. Life was good.

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Text is fictional.

Hello I’ve come for some advise I’m trying to masturbate by only using my fuck hole I finger myself and get intense pleasure I feel close to orgasm but can’t reach it end up jacking off I want my primary source of pleasure to come from my hole and be a good 100% bottom boy

Hello I’ve come for some advise I’m trying to masturbate by only using my fuck hole I finger myself and get intense pleasure I feel close to orgasm but can’t reach it end up jacking off I want my primary source of pleasure to come from my hole and be a good 100% bottom boy

by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

:

First of all, you are to be commended for your devotion, your desire to grow and accept your place is powerful. Never doubt how this desire and understanding can truly give you the ability to change everything in your life.

I would say that the most important thing to remember is to be patient in this. You are breaking some very strong chains and cultural conditioning, and that doesn’t happen easily or quickly, but with patient endurance and daily effort, the chains will break and you will be free to be what you were born to be.

Now, some thoughts.

First of all, when working your ass pussy, try as much as possible to make your dick as irrelevant as possible. I find that wearing a jockstrap does a great deal in this regard. It keeps my meaningless dick hidden and that can help to keep it out of my thoughts.

Also, remember that one of the cultural conditioning aspects you are challenging is what an “orgasm” will be for you. For years, decades, you have defined an “orgasm” or “cumming” as the intense sensation and release which is connected to ejaculation from your dick. You are slowly reconditioning your body to experience a different form of “orgasm,” not the intense release, but the waves of pleasure which come from stimulating your ass pussy.

Allow yourself to feel that sensation, to experience it and, as you do so, consciously acknowledge that you are “cumming.” The more you do this, the more your body and mind will work together to give you that sense of “fulfillment” and “completion” that an ejaculatory orgasm used to give you. Eventually, you will stop thinking of “orgasm” as the end of the sexual act, and in this you will be open to multiple orgasms as you work your ass pussy.

At the beginning, you will find yourself needing to ejaculate to elevate the frustration that your cultural conditioning has imposed on you. A part of you will think that you haven’t finished yet, because you did not ejaculate. This will pass eventually, but in the meantime, if you absolutely must ejaculate, then only work your dick enough to bring this about, do it as quickly as possible and only working the head or gland of your dick, much as a clit would be worked. Even while doing this, remain focused on the sensation of your ass pussy. That is where your orgasms will come from.

In addition, while you are working on your ass pussy, imagine in your mind’s eye, the Alpha. Stay focused on His Cock, because that is all that matters at that moment. Imagine His Cock as it enters you, fills you. Focus on His connection to His Cock, and the pleasure His Cock give to Him as it fills you, as your ass pussy opens itself to His Cock.

Imagine His face, how His body responds to using your ass cunt. Keep in mind that this is not “sex,” but His power and dominance. Remember how His Cock, using your ass cunt, makes Him great, more powerful, more a Man.

As the sensations in your ass cunt grow, focus on the only orgasm which matters, which is His. Let your body and ass respond as you imagine Him cumming, shooting, feeling that intense release and amazing orgasmic joy which is His right as an Alpha. Soon, and with practice, you will feel the waves of an anal orgasm by imagining His powerful orgasm, a Real Man’s orgasm. In this, you will know that your orgasm don’t matter as much as His, and your body is at His service.

Keep working at it, don’t let the frustration get you down. You are on the right path, and you are breaking major chains, and reconditioning your mind and body after many, many years. But you are doing what you must and that is commendable.

Keep me informed, please, about your progress. We can all learn together.

Well, there’s this. Good learning guide for boys who feel this way.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Andrew sighed and cursed under his breath as he examined his racket. “Broken string, I need a break.”

It was just a local tennis match between two regional teams, but a small crowd had populated the stands. They began to murmur as the announcer called for an interruption. Andrew’s tennis partner was happy for a water break.

However, repairing the racket took longer than Andrew thought. The crowd began to get restless, so the ball boy decided to take matters into his own hands. He’d gotten the job of fetching errant tennis balls and cleaning up the locker room from a friend of a friend, and he thrived in it – he liked being useful and getting recognized for it. Joseph didn’t know what a houseboy was, or a faggot, what BDSM was, or any of those fancy words. What he did know was that he had a massive crush on Andrew and wanted him to know he existed.

Joseph walked out to the court. He took off his shirt first – which got a lot of applause from the ladies – and then his shorts, which got whistles. He tried not to blush. The jockstrap didn’t hide much. By now the crowd had gone quiet and were watching him. Joseph put his hands down on the court and brought himself up to a handstand. He used to be a gymnast, and although he stopped in college, he hadn’t stopped going to the gym and was still in top shape. For the next fifteen minutes, he entertained the crowd with impressive handstands, splits, balancing tricks, and standing backflips.

After nailing one of those, Andrew walked over and swatted him playfully on the ass with his fixed racket. An announcer stated the game would commence. Andrew held up Joshua’s hand and he got a standing ovation for saving the day. Joshua was trying not to freak out that Andrew was actually touching him, acknowledging him! He flushed under the recognition from the audience. He nearly fainted though when Andrew whispered in his ear, “I hope to see you in the locker room later.”

Joshua was floating on Cloud 9 for the rest of the match. When he got to blow Andrew in the shower later, he was convinced he’d died and gone to heaven. By the end of the season, Joshua was following Andrew around like a loyal dog and was happy as a lark.

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Text is fictional. Source is unknown.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

“What kind of talk is that? How can you say in one breath you feel a deep seated urge to serve real men, then in another you say you can’t handle their cocks? You want to serve us, you gotta change your attitude! Get over here.” I haul him to the bed and get a firm grip on the scruff of his neck. “Take my pants off.”

He did, but he blanched at the size of my cock.
“You are going to take this to the base,” I told him.
“I…I…wow, that’s such a huge cock, but I can’t!”
“You can and you will. You should be grateful I’m spending so much time on you, there are hundreds of fags out there that would be grateful for this cock. Now suck!”
He doesn’t dare disobey me. He can barely get a third of my cock in his mouth, but over the next hour as I get harder and harder we loosen his gag reflex into there’s just an inch left. I pull out and he sputters, coughing, rubbing his jaw.
“You suck cock well boy, not a complaint out of you. Now go bring us some water, then you’re gonna take me to the balls.”
“But…” he pauses, catching himself. He looks at my cock, seeing how far he’s made it, senses he’s never again going to be this close to having his fantasies come true. “Yes Sir, I’ll make the last inch Sir.”
“That’s right. Now, water! And ice in mine, not yours. Don’t want your mouth too cold.”

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sublimecock:

“Well…that’s one way to keep ‘em down on the farm…” (67)

Heath did not know what to do with his son. Dylan had been caught three times now giving handjobs in the boys bathroom at school, only once for cigarettes. He wore his sister’s jeans, walked with a swish, and spoke with a campy tone. Frankly, Heath thought it was an embarrassment to have a teenage son acting in such a loose way, not a manly, proper way. He was horrified to learn how Dylan had been not only experimenting with men instead of the ladies. He might have tolerated this infarction until Dylan left for college, but his son’s grades were slipping. A cousin named Joe on his wife’s side owned a farm, and after some talk, Dylan’s parents sent him there for re-education.

Hard work and distance from confusing media imagery would align Dylan right. Having proper, heterosexual male role models would teach him how to chase girls and bed em well too.

Dylan initially hated the farm. He had to get up super early. The work gave his soft hands blisters, his fair skin burned, and unflattering bootcut jeans replaced his beloved cigarette jeans in a rainbow of colors. Also the chafing! His poor balls.
Dylan was a smart kid though – he couldn’t stop working unless he was providing another service in exchange, and began to conspire to put out. He didn’t have to lift a finger though. The other men sensed Dylan’s the natural need to submit and please other men, to seek their approval. Their leader, a man named Rich, asked Dylan to join him for a piss one afternoon. Afterwards, Rich didn’t put his cock away – he played with it until he had Dylan’s attention, then began to masturbate right in front of the young man. It was the perfect bait and the young lad was helpless being so close to a hard cock after not having one for weeks.

Oh how he missed the taste of cock on his tongue! Sucking a cock with the scent of sweat and Earth around his nostrils drove Dylan wild. Word spread quickly of the young twink’s services and soon the blisters on Dylan’s hands healed and he was back to wearing tank tops again. All the hands on the farm knew the signal – they just had to unbutton their pants and the twink would come right over to kiss their neglected lips, caress their bulging pecs, and empty their full balls down his tight throat. So much easier to work in the hot sun with a drained cock and a happy buzz.

It wasn’t two weeks later when Rich put the claim on Dylan’s ass by squeezing it in front of the crew, and by the end of the summer the newcomer lost his virginity bent over a blanket spread on a hay bale. His ass became one popular attraction. When Dylan decided to stay for the new school year, Rich made another power move and locked Dylan’s cock up good. No point in him being distracted by his own cock when there’s so many men to service; the hornier the better right? Even Joe gave in the lure of having a slut around the farm. 

Heath assumed all was going well, but when he saw Dylan again he was shocked – the man had become a fell fledged faggot. He did look healthier, stronger, and practically glowing. Plus all those men had such compliments to say about his work effort and Joe breathlessly explained how high morale was at the farm . Heath was at a loss. He cut his son loose and left him in the care of men who appreciated boys like Dylan. Dylan wouldn’t exchange his stable of studs for anything, even if that cage only came off a couple times a year. It was heaven.

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Post is fictional; models are Damien Crosse and Chris Porter. More images are here, including some piss play and sex.

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clevelandfag:

sirlockdown:

Clevelandfag has now served 120 days in chastity, on top of the 104 days he served earlier this year. That’s 224 days out of 271 days that the faggot hasn’t had access to its dick.

Here it is in its cell last weekend, shackled by the foot, urinal gag in place, and ass plugged with a locking buttplug -holding in the 70 loads of man cum in his ass you guys sent in. 

You’re not getting released today faggot. Not until you tell us who you are. When you’re ready to expose yourself, then you’ll be free. Until then, living the lie you’ve chosen for yourself, you’re in bondage.

Thank You Sir.  That’s very fair.  The faggot is learning that it does not deserve its dick „, the fag’s dick provides no real purpose and should probably be locked away permanently.  The fag also knows that it will need to expose itself at some point, revealing its identity and contact information for all on the Web to see at all times, and deal with the consequences of all that means.  That will happen, Sir … someday.  Thank You Sir, for the way You treat this faggot.  

i am a faggot

Wow, these two are intense. Sometimes reality is more unusual than fiction.