Tag: gay bdsm

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by ccallenreese

reconfetish:

Here are some of the amazing photos from Folsom Street Fair’s nasty younger brother, Up Your Alley 2014.

One year I am going to this. I love the photo of the pup with the clipboard:

“Pup, give that back.”
“Woof!”
“Give.”
“Woooofff.”
“Puppy, give it! Giiive it.”
“Grr.”
“Hey! Come back here with that! I need that! Bad puppy!”
Another Master behind me speaks up. “You do know he thinks you’re playing right? Look at his body language. He wants you to chase after him. You do that, you’re gonna go in circles all day.”
“I want my clipboard back!” I huff. I take a menacing step forwards and the puppy bounds away, tail wagging. “Arg! He’s probably drooling on it.”
“Yeah he does that when he gets excited. Pup, come here boy! Aww yeah come here, that’s a good boy. Who likes scratches? You like scratches, yesh you do. Alright, give the man his clipboard back. Give. Give. Good puppy, here’s a cookie.”
The Master hands the man back the clipboard, now decorated with chew marks and a bit of drool. “ … Lovely. Thanks.”
“Sorry about that. He gets excited at these things.”
“I see tha – …hey! He stole my pen right out of my hand! Dammit pup, I need that!”
His Master just laughs. “You’re on your own for that one.”

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by ccallenreese

Julian was in charge of  “pup camp” at the bdsm convention which was a room where Masters could leave their over-excited pups so they could have some peace and quiet. Their pups loved the chance to play and socialize with other pups, to truly thrive in their headspace. The last night of the convention, the pups could all sleep over in Julian’s hotel suite if they liked. About a dozen volunteered.

Just after midnight that evening, there was a big, nasty Midwest thunderstorm with vibrant lighting and booming thunder…and Julian woke up at 1 am in a very crowded bed to lots of whimpers. Some of the pups were just nervous and needed comfort, but oh the boys from California just could not handle their weather!

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Leave us.”
Porter watches his henchmen go, before turning his attention to his new toy. His men had washed and shaved him, before putting him back in his underwear for display.
“You are quite a catch. Healthy. Strong. Will be useful at the docks. Now i’m gonna tell you this once and only once. You’re life could have ended yesterday at the end of my gun. You fucked up real good, but I know you were stealin’ to take care of your mama. I’ve given you mercy, so now your life is mine. You are my indentured man now. I expect you to be obedient and not too uppity. You will work when I say so, keep my bed warm at night, and your mom will get a nice deposit from now on. But the more you act up, the more you disobey the less she gets. So you be a good boy now, and we won’t have any problems.”
“N-n-no Sir. Thank you Sir.”
“That’s what I thought. You got a right head on you. You’ll learn fast. Now you will kneel in respect when I walk into a room. Back straight now. Knees together. Hands behind your back. Excellent. Remember that, I will test you. Now Roberts will show you to your quarters and get you fitted for a chastity device.”
“A – a what?”
“A chastity device, boy. You are going to have to earn every single privilege starting from zero. Down to the fork you eat with, and the cock you masturbate with.”
He stares at Porter with huge eyes.
“Don’t worry, you won’t be the only one in my squad with one on. Surely you can make some friends.” Porter grinned.

The boy worked his jaw, then stared at the carpet. He tried not to think about what was ahead but…it was better than jail. Or a coffin. And his mom got her medication and apartment paid for. He had no future anyway – a high school drop out, a delinquent who stole for cash. His only other job had been a drug runner. Porter was offering him a future, in a twisted sort of way. It was his only choice.

“Yes…. yes Sir. I don’t like the idea of the chastity cage Sir but…is it going to hurt?”
“No boy. You might feel some tightness. Any ache, you tell me, and I’ll fix it.”
“…Thank you Porter.”
“Sir.”
“Sir.”

“Good boy. Roberts! Come on here, get him fitted and take him to his quarters please until dinner.”
Roberts came back into the room. “Aye aye Captain. Alright, boy, come with me. And don’t you give me no shit, cause I’m not nearly as patient as ol’ Porter here. Man you’re a cute little thing.” He grinned. “You’re gonna fit in juuuust fine.”

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Text is fictional. This looks like Bound Gods to me…

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by ccallenreese

mastermikes-slave:

After an intense pain-pig training session Master comforts HIS property. Using pain and pleasure to manipulate HIS slave, Master Mike expresses HIS absolute dominance with HIS mental attitude of absolute superiority and control.

“You made me very proud today. Master Will told me he was impressed with you, and I’ve never heard him say that about anybody. I know your back, your balls, and your butt are throbbing. When we get home I’ll put some cooling salve on, and while you go out for a piss, I’ll put a soft blanket in your crate instead of that towel so you can rest fully before feeding time.”
“Thank you Sir, it was a pleasure and a honor to serve you with my body and mind Sir. This slave humbly accepts your generosity and will use that time to rebuild my energy and body into something you can use and manipulate again.” The slave tries to keep his voice neutral, but he’s on the brink of being emotional. He loves it, absolutely loves it, when his Master pets him and plays with his hair after a session and talks to him in this low, soothing tone. It means he’s done well, and lived up to all expectations. Nothing can make a slave happier to be fawned on by a strict Master and recognized for hard work.

Master Julian crinkles his forehead. “Boy, if you need to cry, you have my permission to do so. It’s a normal response to an intense session, and you didn’t cry very much after that strapping. Takahashi’s boy couldn’t even make it the whole way through.”
The slave manages a “thank you Sir” before his voice cracks and he begins to make little gasping noises as the tears stream down his face.  Tutting, Master Julian pulls him into a bear hug, minding his back, and rocks him until his slave’s shoulders stop heaving. “There there…that’s a good boy, Exi. Let it all out. Burn it all away until nothing is left but the pillar of your strength and training.”

The slave hiccups, hilariously loud. Master Julian goes over to the sink area and wets some paper towel, then wipes the tears and snot off his boy’s face.
“There we are now. Feel better, boy?”
He nods, his head hanging low in exhaustion. “This slave is lucky to have such a caring Master.”
Master Julian shares with him a private, little smile. “Because this Master loves this slave very much and does not see merit in damaging his property. Mental health is just as important as physical health.”
“Th- thank you Sir, that makes this slave want to work even harder to be worthy of your attention.”
“It’s my job to find your limits, Exi. Just obey orders and the rest will follow. Alright now. Let’s get you home, you need your nap before you fall asleep standing up.”

On the way out of the Dungeon, Master Will pulls Master Julian aside and inquires if he plans to sell Exi, like he did the rest. To Will’s surprise, Julian gently rebuffs his inquiry. Unlike the other five other boys he’d trained and sold – Uno, Two, San, Quatre, and Fimm – something had clicked with number six, he explained. To tear apart the bond between a slave and a Master would be ruinous to them both. Master Will understands this nods. A shame, but at least they can still play together. They shake hands, and Master Julian takes his beloved Exi home to recover.

Master Julian struts all the way to the car, wanting anyone who was in the parking lot to see his marked slave’s body and know that this slave on a leash was unquestionably His.

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Text is fictional. Source is from Teen Wolf. The names of the past slaves are simply 1 through 5 in other languages – Spanish, English, Japanese, French, and Icelandic. Exi is Greek. Julian picked those names based on their bloodlines.

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by ccallenreese

There was a knock. “Oh he’s early.”
I answered the door.
“Steven?” the young man asks.
“No, I’m not Steven, I’m Jesse. Jesse is… a little tied up right now, but he gave me cash to pay you. We’re sharing the Thai food anyway.”
The delivery man handed over the food. I accepted it with a smile and gave him cash. “Yes, thank you, keep the change, good night.” I shut the door and turned my attention back to my roommate.
“Mpphhhgnnng phhnng!”
“Yes, love, he remembered your Thai iced tea. Now…let’s get back to that bulge of yours, I think it needs some attention.”

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Text is fictional. Source is watermark.

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by ccallenreese

This slave isn’t scared of milking machines, getting the strap, e-stim devices, long chastity, or serving 10 men at once… but at any utterance of the word “dentist”, all his training gets defenestrated and he’s pulling on his leash to stay in the house. His Master couldn’t just let his slave have bad teeth, so he came up with a creative solution.

The slave is bound to a metal support rail so he can safely sedated. A spider gag is put into place, as well as a chastity cage. Once the tranquilizer has kicked in, then the slave is transferred to the dentist’s office in a crate in his master’s car. Long after most of the staff have gone home, the dentist lets them in through the back. The slave is then bound to the exam room chair like this, naked and gagged, because it’s the only way Dr. Singh can finally get in there and clean those teeth.

Any cavities will be seen as negligence of his Master’s property and will result in a spanking for the slave, but usually the boy keeps up with flossing and brushing. All that fighting and planning is usually for nothing but a mere cleaning!

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Text is fictional. Picture obviously comes from the infamous boundgods.com.

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by ccallenreese

You can only tame a feral slave so much. He was neglected by his parents, and was considered unmanageable by the foster care system. They were also scared of him, the things that turned him on and the pain he liked. You found him on the side of the road, skinny and filthy and offering an ass for meal. He just wanted a permanent home, somewhere he could live out his sexual fantasies safely and feel like he belonged. So you trained him and sculpted him, defined the lines, set rules for him. You made sure he was housebroken and didn’t horde food. You beat him cause he loved it, and introduced him to everything in your dungeon. You took him into your bed and collared him. And he was a better boy for it, a happier boy, less reactive and more malleable. More sated.

Yet, there is a limit to how much you can do for the wild ones. They will eventually feel the call of the wild, especially on those warm summer nights when the wind blows in past the curtains. The urge to roam, the urge to seek prey, the urge to seek other men, it calls to them. The collar helps, cause people know he’s owned. His RFID chip has your information on it. Sometimes you let him go, knowing he’ll be back by morning, filthy and reeking of sex and piss and alcohol. You scrub him, examine him, give him a swat, and give him his morning chores.

When he starts to come home in a police car, covered in scratches, bite marks, and wearing a muzzle, then it’s time to put the safety locks back on the windows. Of course, you know he’ll try it again, and when he does, you’ll catch him and drag him off to your dungeon. You’ll gag him and truss him up like a Christmas turkey. He’ll grunt at you, spitting mad, his eyes shooting daggers at you. You eye him with a sigh, then haul him up and strap him to the milking machine. An hour or so of penetration and low e-stim will help get most of the pent up frustration out of the system. By the end, he’ll be too drained to run off. You’ll cuddle him and put him to bed. He’ll be docile in the morning as a lamb.

You’ll tolerate it all summer. You do the best you can. You socialize him and run him, and let him have supervised sessions at the local dungeon. It’ll be over once fall comes. He’ll want to settle and hibernate, be happy with just your cock there. And you’ll give it to him, as often as he’ll take it, until spring comes and you can open the windows again.

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Text is fictional. Source is here, and used without his knowledge.

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by ccallenreese

The stud’s cock wasn’t hard enough, so his Master decided to tenderize those balls until things were more up to His standards. He has friends coming over soon and it would look bad if he had a soft, uninterested slave boy strapped into place for nothing.

“You keep that dick up, boy, or else you’re getting the nipple clamps with spikes on em and electricity up your dick. You haven’t come in a couple days, shouldn’t be a problem for you. Don’t be nervous, now. My friends are good men and experienced Masters. They will take such excellent care of your horny, naked body while I’m at my little sister’s birthday party.”

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Text is fictional. The video is Back Alley; the dom is Felix Barca; the sub is Race Cooper. Just a warning though before you click the link to the trailer – it’s a fisting video.