Tag: gay captions

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by ccallenreese

gaylovegalore:

Love love cuddling.

I know he’ll be embarrassed in the morning when my aunt comes downstairs and sees us like this – shirtless, spooning, my bulky arm possessively around his thin waist. I know Brazos doesn’t want to be a stereotype, and that he’s conscious of the gay image he projects. I also know he doesn’t believe me when my I tell him my aunt couldn’t care less.

Now really isn’t the time to be worrying about appearances though. I think it was just his sort of attempt at normalcy. 

I had been following the weather all day, tracking developments from my place on the other side of Lake Ray Hubbard in Rockwall. I told Brazos to leave Rowlett. He refused, stubborn, cocky, hiding his nervousness. I told him to pack a bug-out bag. He scoffed, but he packed. Then, a tornado watch was issued. Then a warning. I jumped in my pick up truck and sped over to get him. The wind was ridiculous; lightening forked through the dark. I sped into the apartment complex parking lot, leaving skids on the road. I was banging on doors, telling people to move, move, move. Brazos and I jumped into my truck and fled as the tornado roared in the distance.

The power was out in my neighborhood, so we drove a little ways to stay with my aunt near Wylie. Brazos was in shock. He cried for an hour, suspecting the worse. He would only sleep if I cuddled with him. It took a while to get him calm, but I eventually got him down on my aunt’s pull out sofa. By that point, I was so worn out from the adrenaline crash and from taking care of Brazos, I didn’t last much longer.

Tomorrow will be a rough day.

I withheld information from Brazos that came on the TV when he was in the bathroom earlier. His apartment complex was obliterated. I recognized the sign in front of it, but that was all. I’ll have to break the news that his home, and probably his car, are destroyed. We will have to salvage his life from over god-knows how many square miles the tornado scattered his stuff. Luckily, Brazos has his phone, his wallet, and his passport. He’ll manage. One thing is clear though – after this, he is going to be moving in with me. I won’t ever let Brazos be in a position where I can’t protect him again. I was still brushing tears out of my eyes as I fell asleep. 

This post is for anyone in North Texas dealing with the tornadoes. Hope you’re all safe.

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Story is fictional. 

Gallery
by ccallenreese

lickerpup:

Rudolph the red-thonged reindeer~

Had a very shiny gag~

And if you ever saw him~

You’d say “what a total fag!”~

Merry Christmas tumblr! 🙂

“What a cute little faggot reindeer,” Santa chuckled, eating one of the cookies left for him. “You’re supposed to be in bed aren’t you?”
The boy shrugged and looked at the floor shyly.
“Well, I can’t be mad at a boy that wants to wait up for Santa.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, then set it on the coffee table. “This is for you.”
The fag’s eyes lit up.
“Too small to fit under the tree you see. Just for you. Shhh.”
Then to the boy’s surprise, Santa winked at him then disappeared into a red poof of smoke. He sat on his butt and tried to contemplate what just happened. The base of the tree was littered with presents. The boy rubbed his eyes. The little box was still on the table. The box and the lid were wrapped separately so it was easy to open. Inside was a tiny bullet vibrator. There was a thud on the roof and the boy rushed to the window to see a shadow sail into the night. He couldn’t believe it! Santa had known exactly what he wanted. He’d been a good faggot after all.

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Text is fictional. I hijacked your post, @lickerpup.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

bondcyberrole:

ooooooh….i’m dreaming…of a white christmas

It’s never a good sign when you wake up and your boy is missing on Christmas. You woke up before your alarm, which means your boy wasn’t scheduled to present by your side for a little while longer. Yet, you expected to hear him prattling around the kitchen, preparing a special breakfast, cocoa and coffee, and getting ready to open gifts. Your boy actually has presents under the tree – mostly things he can use to serve you better or things you will use on him, but still, boxes have his name on them. But he’s not here.

Where is he? You feel miffed and concerned. Where is your boy? You feel a breeze and notice the back door is ajar. You step forward to it, pulling your robe around you. What you see takes your breath away. Outside, in two feet of snow, your naked and vulnerable servant boy is standing up to his knees in soft powder. Flakes of it pepper his hair, and his face is turned skyward. You can’t believe it. It’s a white Christmas. 

You remember for a moment that you bought your boy from a dealer that had brought his stock up from Florida. Had the boy never seen snow? You never bothered to ask. You knew he was fascinated by autumn and relished the traditions of holiday seasons, but had had he never seen snow? Truly? 

You open the door. There’s a clear path where your boy cut a path through the deck and down to the yard. You jog to the mud room to fetch your boots and coat, and pull them on without really tying your laces or buttoing the fasteners. You’re worried your boy is going to get frostbite out there. You pull open the back door, and you’re cold all over. It’s freezing. You stumble to the edge of the porch. 
“Boy,” you call gently, not wanting to scare him. He doesn’t hear you. He sticks out his tongue, trying to catch a snowflake. You pull out your phone and snap a quick photo. In the zoom, you can see he’s trembling from here. You get an idea to get his attention. With numb fingers, you wad up a ball of snow and throw it at him. It hits him square in the back and he yelps.

You laugh. If that wasn’t funny, the way he’s staring at you in surprise is. 
“Come inside, you’re going to get frostbite on your toes.”
“I’m wearing my rain boots, Sir.”
“Still, this is no weather for a boy to be naked outside.” I say, throwing another snowball at him. He ducks.
“Coming Sir,” he replies, teeth chattering.
You shake your head and throw snowballs at him until he hurries up, but he’s laughing. When he’s on the deck, you turn your back to head back inside – and then a moment later you feel it, the impact of something wet and cold hitting the back of your jacket.

You whirl around.

You can’t believe it! Your boy just hit you with a snowball. His cheeks are red and he looks terrified as he is pleased with himself. Very sheepish.

I eye him. That was easily a spank-able offense. “You have good aim,” I say, feeling generous, then turn back inside. You hear him sigh in relief. 

When you get back inside, he is noticeably shivering. His cock is so small that you’re sure he could have pulled the chastity cage off. You order him to get dressed and prepare something hot to drink while you go turn up the heat a little. Your boy bows then goes to his quarters to dress in his winter thermals.

You linger by the window, watching the snow fall, already burying your tracks and your fun. You wonder if your boy has ever been sledding, and suddenly you know how to spend your Christmas. Where in the Master handbook does it say you can’t command your boy to have fun? 

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Text is fictional. 

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“How’s the chili coming?” Gabriel asked.
“Doing alright. On hour three. It needs more time in the crockpot. Are the green beans done?”
“Mmnn. Just about to put them in the freezer. We’re running out of room in there though.”
“Yeah we won’t have much room soon,” Benji agreed. “The lasagna took up a ton.” He shifted his weight, “God, my feet hurt. I can’t believe we’re almost done with the weekly cooking. Such a big list of recipes this week cause of that holiday party at the firm.”
“Mmn, yeah I’m burnt out on cooking. My hands are so dry from washing them.”
“Me too,” Benji agreed.
We still have to start on dinner though. It’s nearly 6.” Gabriel sighed. “Ugh, I don’t even want to touch food right now. I’m so done with handling raw fish. It’s a shame fried catfish just isn’t as good any other time then fresh.”
“Yeah seriously. I mean you can put it in the broiler but it’s just not the same,” Benji agreed. He shifted his weight again. “I think I’m going to ask Stephen for a mat to stand on or something.”
“Mmmn. That’s a good idea. Pass the pepper.”

Normally, both boys wouldn’t be so dour about serving the men they both loved and preparing food which would nourish them through-out the week. Gabriel worked for Porter, an esteemed lawyer, as a personal assistant and houseboy, and Benji, worked part time both for Porter’s paralegal Stephen, and went to school. Once a week, Gabriel and Benji got together and prepared meals for the week, dividing it at the end of the day to take to their respective homes. It was easier with two, and the company was better. But today wasn’t a normal day. It was a day they both wanted to be somewhere else, especially as the hours ticked on.

Then, the door bell rang.

Gabriel looked up. “Must be a courier.” That wasn’t entirely unusual. Legal documents sometimes had to be signed the same day they were written, and once in a while a courier knocked at odd hours to have Porter sign something important. Gabriel washed his hands real fast and dried them on a towel. “Coming!”

He jogged toward the door, and checked the peep hole. Yep, courier. Gabriel hoped it wasn’t urgent. Porter was still at the office. “One moment please.” Gabriel opened the door and went through the proper motions of politely accepting the envelope and signing for it. He was confused when the courier said it was for him – not for Porter.
“For me?” Gabriel repeated, confused.
“Yes Sir. That’s what it says.”
“Huh?”
“Turn it over.”
Gabriel flipped the envelope over. In Porter’s black scrawl it said, “Gabriel – open immediately.”
Gabriel was immediately curious. Christmas was still a week away. An early present maybe?

He tipped Joshua, closed the door, and went back to the kitchen.
“Courier?” Benji asked, setting corn flour on the counter.
“Yeah but it’s address to me.”
“Huh?”
Gabriel held up the envelope. 
“Oh weird! Porter sent you an delivery from his office? How mysterious. Open it open it!” 
Gabriel grinned and tour open the perforated tab. Benji bounced on his feet. Inside, was an envelope and a note. 
“Dear Gabriel and Benjij – thank you for your hard work today. Stephen and I know we have the best houseboys and boyfriends ever.-”
“Awww,” Benji cooed, putting a hand over his heart.
“-..Please enjoy the night off?” 
“What?” 
Gabriel furrowed his brow. “That’s what it says. To enjoy the night off.”
Benji’s face lit up. “Oh maaan. Is that what I think it is? Tell me what’s in that envelope is what I think it is!”
Gabriel tore it open and pulled out two tickets to a 8:30 showing of the new Star Wars movie. He gasped. “BENJI look!”
Benji whooped and jumped around in a circle.
“Holy shit, Porter got us tickets!” Gabriel gaped at them, touching them excessively to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating this.
“We’re going on premiere night!” Benji cried out, suddenly feeling much more rejuvenated. “Oh this is awesome! No chance of having it spoiled online then!”
“Dude there’s something else in here,” Gabriel said, feeling the envelope
“What what?”
“It’s two twenty dollar bills.”
“What for?” Benji asked.
Gabriel unfolded them and read the post it note stuck to one. “Order yourselves a pizza, get showered, and go.”
“Aw sweet pizza!”
Gabriel shared the sentiment. Porter disapproved of unhealthy carb-bombs and greasy plates. Pizza and a movie was going to be a blast, like when they were teenagers again. Not having to make dinner was such a relief.

Gabriel texted Porter immediately, so wired he could barely type straight: Thank you thank you thank you Sir!! So excited that we get to go to Star Wars!
Porter replied: You’re welcome. You and Benji have fun. Don’t worry about dinner.
Then: Oh, Stephen is sleeping over tonight, so please make sure both you boys are prepared when we come home. We will want both of you.
Gabriel gave Benji a lopsided grin and showed him the message. “It’s going to be a long night.”
Benji chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, our men. So insatiable.”
Gabriel giggled. “Come on! Help me find a place to order take out from. We should order it and go shower to save time. The movie starts at 8:30 and I am NOT missing the trailers.”
“Did you hear there’s a new Independence Day 2 trailer?”
“Benji! No spoilers!”
“Sorry.”
“I’m going to make sure Stephen spanks you for that!”
“I said I’m sorry!”

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

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.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“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.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

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.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“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.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

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.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

scudda:

Day LII (52) ~

… sweet dreams …

“Hey Lou – what ended up happening with your release date?”
“Oh that,” Lou groaned. “Yeah Jack let me out – we had one hell of a hot night – but Jack had a surprise for me after. He wants to make it long term. He’s really into it and taking it really seriously!”
Chet chuckled. “Poor baby.”
“I’m serious. He’s locked me down in serious hardware. Check this out.”
“Woah! Look at all that metal! Shit. Looks super secure.”
“It is, I can’t pull out of it all all. I can feel the weight in my jeans and it makes me horny but I can’t get hard. I can’t get used to it.”
“Well, it looks like you’re going to have to,” Chet said.
“Yeah,” Lou sighs, “I have no choice. He really loves me like this, and lord it frustrates me, but I have to admit – I like the attention.”
“Is that a good relationship though? I mean, would he still be with you if you refused?”
Lou threw his deodorant into his bag. “Hm. Probably. We dated for like two years before he locked me up. I think it’s kind of like a promise ring to him.” He held himself for a moment. “I think in Jack’s way, he thinks it’s kind of romantic.”
Chet laughed. “He’s a bit of a weirdo.”
“Yeah a little,” Lou grinned sheepishly. “I’m kind of grateful I guess, that he’s so interested in me for so long. Our sex life is as healthy as it ever was. I like Jack. I’m willing to make a few compromises.”
“What do you get in return?”
“Besides great sex?”
“Besides that.”
“Well, he does the dishes and laundry. God I hate laundry. Which is good, cause I leak all over everything…”
“Ha. He gets to clean up the mess.”
“Exactly!” Lou said, pointing a finger. “Jack knows he can’t ask for everything from me.”
“Well shit man. If you’re happy, then be happy.”
“I am, I am. But ya know what? I kind of like the way it feels. The weight of it I mean. Cause know one knows it’s in there, but me. Well, and you.”
Chet shut his locker door. “Yeah. We’ve have an odd friendship.”
“It’s nice having someone to talk to about this stuff,” Lou admitted.
Chet glanced at Lou’s crotch. “Yeah that’s kind of a specific thing. You think my boy would like something like that?”
Lou blinked, “Roger? You’d have to find a really tiny one.”
“Do they make those?”
“I dunno. I’ll ask Jack.”
“Thanks man, I really appreciate that.”
“No problem. Anything for a friend.”
“Hey Lou.”
“What?”
“You’re um, leaking a little.”
“What?” Lou glanced down. “Ah shit. So soon? Crap! This metal thing is pure evil!”

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Text is fictional. Source is OP I think.