Tag: gay captions

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by ccallenreese

“How are you doing?” Daniel asks gently. “Great! I’m almost done peeling these carrots. Everything else is measured out and ready.” I nearly take my finger off when I feel a slight touch on my ass. 
“Looks great. Can’t wait to taste this cake you’re making. Going to be delicious.”
“If I don’t forget an ingredient. Or mix up the sugar and salt. Or burn it.  Or burn the house down.” Daniel chuckles, then kisses my cheek. “You’ll be fine. I look forward to dessert.” He gives me another ass pat and then strolls back into the living room where the game has returned to the television.

I watch him go. His mildly possessive touches have left me feeling warm and smiley. For the first time in my life, I’m really, truly content. I had been so unhappy in previous relationships and I never knew why. Daniel understood though, more than I ever could. I just liked to please a man, make his meals, fold his socks, be there when he needed to rut… it was a bit simple, if not a bit of an outdated mentality, but it was more rewarding than any office job I ever could hold. Spending a Sunday afternoon inside, making a nice carrot cake for after Sunday’s dinner was so fulfilling. Plus, I could put the cake pieces in Daniel’s lunchboxes for the week and he would love that.

The best thing though was that Daniel really appreciated me. His supportive comments were so natural, so casual, as if this is just how it was supposed to me. Me, him – us – in our effortless roles. Most alphas I have met are rather aggressive bastards. Daniel  is unbelievably chill. I’m sure if some man tried to take ownership of me in a club, a beatdown would occur, but it would take a lot to provoke him into such a state. No, Daniel was a laid back-guy. He was just happy to appreciate the simple things in life – a cute boyfriend, a football game on the screen, craft beer – a nice middle class life. Plus, home-cooked food, made with love.

I wondered how he would feel if I started baking wearing only an apron.

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

I had had sex before – one night stands, club hook-ups, Grindr rendezvous in new cities – but I had never let anyone make love to me, because I did not trust of those men with my love. I often thought perhaps I should be a bit embarrassed how much I liked the cheesiness, the sappiness of romance and secretly pined for it. I never told anyone how much I really wanted that, more than anything. Until, that is, I met Todd. When I met him, I honestly thought he was going to be like all the rest. I indulged him, this man who was seventeen years older than me and still out looking for fun at night. But it was Todd who pursued me days after we fucked. Todd who flirted with me, who actually cared about me beyond my dick…

And then when Todd got bad news, he pushed me away, and lord for whatever reason I ran right after him. Now here we are, the night before his brain surgery, sharing his bed and about to make love for the first time. We knew this might be the last time; god forbid something went wrong in the operating room. Yet, Todd decorated the room for me. He brought out the nice, high thread count Egyptian sheets in gold, my favorite color. He bought some lightly scented candles and lit them for ambiance. Gentle classical music played in the background. On the nightstand were our negative STD tests. No condoms in sight. Just nice, warming lube, wash clothes, massage oil, a few little toys, high quality bottled water… everything a couple could need in one room.

Although the passion and love that followed that night remained clear to me fifty years later as it did that night, the brightest memory I have is the moment just before we began. Todd and I were sitting in bed, both naked, the sheets up to our waists. He leaned into me; our heads touched. He put a hand on my arm, but said nothing. We did not need words to communicate. When I opened my eyes, I saw his were wet and he was holding back tears. I knew if I tried to say anything the same thing would happen to me.

I don’t think I said another word that night until he was inside of me, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. 

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Text is fictional. Source is the movie Truth.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

lockedyuusui:

These were taken before I had the base ring enlarged a bit, but the cage fits great. This is flaccid and erect in the cage.

I accepted a glass of cranberry juice with a dash of vodka and settled into the sofa. My beloved, sweet-faced houseboy was already massaging his bare feet. After a long day running around the stock exchange floor, I loved every second of it. After the formatlies of ‘hi-how-was-your-day’ and ‘what-did-you-do’, I moved into the conversation that really interested him.
“So Peche, I saw your Tumblr update on my lunch break.”
Peche momentarily paused, then continued the rub. “I’m really flattered you enjoy reading it so much Sir.”
“well, I think it’s good for a boy to reflect on his life a little. Encourage others to follow the same path.”
“Yes sir.”
“And I know you didn’t mean for it to be funny, but the twin photos of your cock had me laughing for like twenty minutes.”
Peche titled his blond head. “Pardon sir?”
I was trying to supress a chuckle even now. “Here…” I pulled out his phone, opened the Tumblr app, and scrolled. “Here. This. See? Your cock is shown flaccid and hard but -” I let a laugh slip – “It looks the same!”
Peche turned a deep red. “Well it – it doesn’t really-”
“It absolutely does. I have your little cocked locked up so tight it can’t harden at all. It’s all an illusion that it can harden, my pretty boy.”
Peche shifted on the floor, turning his Master’s socks rightside out. “Well – I am happy to please you Sir.”

“Mmm it pleases me very much. When I saw you naked the first time, I thought two things. One was that you took my breath away and that had never happened with a lover before; and the second thing was that you were absolutely born to wear a chastity device. The way your small member was straining so hard to impress – I felt so bad for it! You were so distracted with it, so obsessed with trying to make it bigger, trying to stroke it with your silppery fingers…” I sipped my drink. “It was a situation that begged to be rectified.” I watched Peche’s face. I could tell I was making him horny because the blush was high on his cheek bones. He wasn’t doing anything now but staring at me. I hoped he was imagining either the first time I fucked him, or the first time I fucked him in chastity. Both were equally memorable. The second night lasted much longer though. I sipped again.

“It’s just so much better now. Can you look at me and tell me you don’t like being horny for me all the time?”

Peche kneeled behind the coffee table and thought it over. He looked a bit surprised to be asked that. “well Sir…it’s…new,” he said carefully. “Being horny nearly all the time is strange. It takes discipline to set it aside and focus on other things, but when you take time to express my needs…it all seems to come back at once. It’s incredible the volume of lust I seem to feel, and at times, it feels like it will never end and I’m going insane. Then when it’s over, there’s the relief and the bliss, and I never want it to end. when it fades away, I want it again immediately. It’s almost like a drug. I hate it, but I want it, and …” Peche tilts his head again, in thought. “I realized I could either have a short, pleasurable sex experience and orgasm, or I could delay it and have more time coupling with you.” Peche suddenly looked down, shy. “I like the latter option.”

My jaw fell to my knees. Why had I never asked Peche these questions before? I wanted more personal, sensual responses like this. There was so much that went on in my houseboy’s head that I never knew about. Such a passionate boy. My heart throbbed for him. I swallowed hard. My pants were painfully tight. I set the glass on the coffee table with care because I was afraid I might drop it. “Peche,” I said softly. “Come here.” I patted my lap.
“…Am I going to be spanked?” he asked, timidly.
I choked on my spit and coughed. “Don’t be absurd. Now come here.”
Peched looked confused, but he obeyed, standing up and coming over to me on the sofa. He climbed on and I pulled him into my lap. I lifted his chin and kissed him fully, enjoying the way he tensed and then melted under me. I pressed my lips to his again and again, then I nibbled on his bottom lip and pounced once more. Peche was quickly breathless in my lap. My other hand wrapped around his package. He made ragged, frustrated noises in my ear. My pulse thudded wildly in response.

I dug around in the sofa cushions with my free hand, desperately searching for the bottle of lube I stashed there. I exhaled with relief when I found it.  
“Lift your ass, Peche,” I instructed, touching his hip. He rose over my lap, so I could reach down and free the length of my shaft from its confines. When the tip touched air, I moaned and began to rub lubricant into it. Peche was nuzzling me, kissing me, waiting for the moment when I would enter him.

He made quite a noise of surprise when I threw him down on the afghan spread over the cushions, onto his back. “God Peche you are so beautiful,” I murmured, caressing him from pec to pubic bone, enjoying the way his stomach muscles fluttered under me. Peche was red all over, blushed and a bit fuzzy, just like his namesake. His juices were dripping too. “Perfect.”

I pushed up his leg and positioned my cock. Peche’s toes curled before I even breached him, and if I hadn’t been so focused on this need to be in him, I likely would have laughed at that. His body was tight and put up good resistance, but it was not a match for me. I entered him with one thrust. Peche tensed so hard around me, it was if I was being pulled in with a tractor beam. He whimpered and fisted a pillow. “Sir!” he yelped. “Oh Sir!”
I released a big breath of air I was holding and swallowed hard. “Relax…relax,” I cooed. I didn’t move at first. I just enjoyed the view of this vulnerable houseboy, open and thrumming with sexual energy underneath me. And I had to admit, I was wrong. I could tell he was hard. His cock was dark and leaky. I cupped his balls, which made Peche arch his back and plead for me to move. Not yet. I kissed him on the lips, wishing I was flexible to bend in half and suck on his nipples. I had to settle with tweaking them with my fingers.

Peche suddenly gasped and pre-cum gushed from his chastity cage. His eyes were wet. He looked a bit overwhelmed. It was time. “It’s ok…I’m going to make you feel human again. When we are done here, I will have to tie a string to you or else you’ll float away.” I pulled out, and pushed in – slowly.
Peche’s gaze was glazed, faraway. He wrapped his thin fingers around my wrist. “Julian!” he cried.
“Shh shh…”

I bent over to kiss him again. The sun dipped low in the horizon, filling the room with an autumnal golden glow. I made love to Peche as thoroughly as I could, pushing past my two orgasms into a third, until Peche’s body gave up. Exhausted, I watched rapt, as an orgasm quaked through him from the inside out. He cried. I loved him. By that point, it was dark, and it felt like just the two of us were left in the world.

Peche woke up in the bath. I made him dinner later, and it confused him – even more so when I insisted I feed him. When he protested, I told him to shush. Part of being his Master meant more than just protecting and caring for him, as my houseboy. It meant doting on him and spoiling him once in a while to show him just how special he was to me.

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

Dorian stepped in the room. “How the -…” The pups were everywhere! “How did you all get out of the cage?” Dorian glanced down at at the solidly built bulldog in front of him wearing a mask. “Oh right. Forgot the mitts.” He sighed and pulled his keys out of his pocket. “Well, let’s get back to locking you -” Something fell out onto the floor when he removed his keys. It was a treat. The pups all starred up at him with intent. Dorian could see their cute little heads working it out – if there was one, then the entire pocket must be full of them!  

“No. Sit. Stay. No bad pups! No – ack!” Dorian found himself quickly overwhelmed by eager, energetic pups who overwhelmed him, licked him into submission, then raided his shorts for their prize.

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

puploki:

Today’s pup-out at pride

You have treats. I know you have treats. I saw you eating M&Ms a second ago. Where did you hide them? Why won’t you share them with me. I can smell chocolate. I swear. I’m a good boy. I deserve all the treats you could ever have. I’m not allergic to chocolate. Of course pups can have chocolate! Pfft. Who told you otherwise? Come ooonnn. I mean – not like you could eat them all right? Or maybe you might just drop one? Huh? Whaddya say? Come on, don’t make me whimper!

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

It sets back the schedule to take time to punish a work slave, but when a lapse in judgement results in broken materials and nearly injures another boy, there is no discussion – it must be done pronto. Truth is? Every slave makes this type of mistake twice. Smart ones make it once. The trick is not to get complacent, zone out, or get distracted, which can be difficult when one is made to do repetitive hard labor all day. A good slave knows to keep his mind as well as his hands busy and his attention focused. If not, he’ll at least have a reminder to be much more careful next time. At least no one had to go to the hospital this time, no one got hurt. Well, besides the slave boy but …really, now. It will sting, but a whipping doesn’t count as true hurt.

Not compared to the cane, anyway…

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Gay captions.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

bredbeta:

It’s his pussyboy masturbatory aid. I can’t even blame him for carrying one around as you never know when you might be gripped by an acute need to be full and once you accept that penetration is your truest pleasure one quickly finds fingers … insufficient.

“What the fuck is this?
Cody blushed and stammered. Oh shit! he thought. “Oh um. It’s my uh – well, it was just – I use it for-”
“I know what it’s used for,” Cody’s hot coworker snapped back. “Seriously though? You’re sticking such shitty cheap toys up your hole?”
“Uh.”
“This is low quality porous plastic. I can smell it from here. How can you be sure this even gets cleaned well? No no no, you will not treat your pussy this way.”
Cody was too astonished to even say “uh” this time. His pussyboi side wanted to bend over and offer himself to Mick though, cause that bossy tone of voice was turning him on.
“You are going to go home tonight and buy some high quality toys tonight at Sinland, you got that boi?” Mick instructed.
“Yes Sir.”
“And proper lube which won’t degrade them.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Invest in yourself.” Mick threw the dildo in the trash with disgust. “Tomorrow morning you will come here and bring them with you. I now can’t trust now that you are using them right either.”
Cody’s eyes went wide. He had no idea Mick was such a dominant alpha. “I know how to use them,” he protested.
“I’ll be the judge of that. Can you trigger body quaking orgasms that will make your pussy happy for hours after?”
Cody gulped and shook his head sheepishly, hand on the back of his neck. “No…I just leak and leak…”
“A good pussyboi won’t even need to stroke himself to cum. You know that right?”
He did now. Cody nodded.
Mick scoffed. “You’re hard. What a surprise. You can thank me for correcting you by getting on your knees and sucking my dick now by the way.”
“Here?” Cody squeaked. “Someone could walk in.”
“So? What’s wrong with people seeing you in your natural state?” 

Cody did not have a rebuttal for that. Plus, he really did want to suck a cock right then. It was an easy decision to drop to his knees and worship Mick’s superiority from the locker room floor. His hungry pussy would have to wait to tomorrow.
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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Now that you have set the time and the date, you can now change the light settings using the LED button. It comes with five different settings, which can be programmed to rotate or flash. To begin this, hold down the LED button until it blinks twice and….” Andy lifts his head. “Babe are you paying attention?”
“…What?” I force myself to look at this handsome, scruffy face. “What? Oh. Nope. Cant’ say I am.”
“Why not?” Andy asks, looking annoyed I’m not sharing his fascination with the new electronic toy he’s got. As a professional DJ, he has a lot of techy things I don’t quite understand. I’m only interested in toys that use batteries and go between his legs.

I give him a little smile. “I think you know why I’m not paying attention.”
“Why?” he asks with a huff.
I point to his butt. “Cause your ass is out of this world.”
Andy stares at me with this blank look of you-did-not-just-say-that combined with men-think-about-sex-every-five-seconds-don’t-they. As in, he wants to be mad at me but he is more amused than anything.
I can’t help myself either. “Your butt has universal appeal. You put the ass in asteriod. You make me want to take off my Kuiper belt, launch my rocket, and have a Big Bang in Ur-”
“Don’t. You. Dare.” Andy interrupts, pointing at me with an accusatory finger.
I’m trying not to laugh. He is so hot when he’s irritated. A smile splits my face. “Ok. Fine. Buuuut…Babe,” I insist. “you gotta admit, your ass is fucking fine as hell. I mean, goddamn, even Pluto way out there can see dat ass is …nfff fine. Damn distracting.”
“Pluto isn’t a planet,” Andy reminds me gently, blushing a little under the praise.
“Your ass could be,” I continue. “I mean, damn Andy, you gotta be careful or SpaceX is gonna try colonize it one of these days!”

Andy gave me a blank look. “Hold on.” He tosses the manual down, then gets up from the bed in a flash and runs out of the room.
“Wh…what? Where are you going?” I ask, perplexed.
He came back, holding a tape recorder. “Say that line again.”
“Uh…” I lean into the tape record. “SpaceX is going to try and colonize it one of these days?”
Andy clucks. “No no, say it the way you said it before! And put “ass” in there somewhere, and put the damn part in front.”
“Damn, Andy, your ass could be planet. You better be careful or SpaceX is going to colonize it one day!”
He looks excited. “Yes, now say it again but say babe instead of ‘Andy’.”

I humor him with a couple more takes until he’s happy, then he bolts from the room again. I follow him to his studio where he’s already uploading the track to his software. 
“What are you doing?” I ask. Everything on his screen is unintelligible to me.
“I was like 90% done mixing this new track and it just needed a vocal sample, and I could not fucking find one. What you said was perfect. It’s gonna fit so well.”
“Are you going to put it on SoundCloud?”
He looks at me for a second. “Yeah, why?”
I fold my arms. “Am I getting royalties for this?” I tease.

Andy raises an eyebrow at me. “How about if you give me two hours to do this, I’ll let you sit in my lap and rub your crotch against mine while you squeeze my ass and kiss me until we come? Then we can talk about paperwork ok babe?”
“Uh…….. ya know what, I am totally totally ok with that. You just have to be wearing that pair of underwear still.”
“You really like my space underwear huh.”
I grin. “I will like it better when it looks like the Milky Way inside.”

Andy groans and throws a stress ball at me. I catch it, laughing, and then leave him be. It was a long two hours of waiting, but when I came back with a snack and a drink and me in a jockstrap, I had 100% of Andy’s attention.

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Text is fictional. The OP that uploaded this is not the owner of the picture… this model has a Tumblr and I’ve used some of his images before. If anyone can remind me who he is, that’d be great. I think he’s Italian. Edit: It’s @bahamvt.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

I step out onto the porch. “What is it boy?”
”There heteros are breeding on our lawn Sir,” he says acridly.
“What…?” I walk over to where he’s standing. “Ew. Damn, I hate how our property backs up to the field on in that park. We really need a fence. HEY, KIDS GET OFF OUR LAWN.”
My boy looks at me. “You know, you really sound old when you say things like that.”
I watch in amusement as they bolt like scared rabbits. “Oh shush. I’m only ten years older than you. YEAH YOU BETTER RUN. GAY SEX IS ONLY ALLOWED HERE,” I call after them.

My boy chuckles as he watches them until they disappear into the tree line. “They’re gone, Sir.”
“Very good.” I turn to go back inside.
“Hey Sir?”
I turn to face my houseboy. “Yes boy?”
“You said gay sex is only allowed here right? So why haven’t we fucked on the lawn?”
I stop on the stairs. “Well, I dunno.”
“You own this property right Sir?”
“Well…yes.”

My boy looks at me, hopeful. “I did all my chores.”
I chuckle. “Are you ever not horny?”
He looks down at the underwear i make him wear as part of his home uniform. “No. Especially now that you’re the only one that can touch my cock. I’m just horny all the time.”
“Well, at least you’re honest. Why don’t you make us a late lunch and we’ll enjoy it on the lawn? Pack the lube with the condiments?” 
His face lights up. “I would love that Sir.”
I lift the corner of my mouth. “Well, go then.”

He bows and shoots up the stairs of the porch toward the house. I watch his butt bounce as he runs. I am going to enjoy fucking him on the lawn, but little did my boy know he was about to get fucked over the kitchen counter too…

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Text is fictional.  

Gallery
by ccallenreese

Marcus laughed at the text message. He briefly messaged this guy Corey on Grindr a few days back, but never got a reply – that is, until 2 am. At that moment, Marcus was tired and annoyed, and ignored it for sleep, but now at 2 pm this showed up. Marcus had questions. Was Corey so desperate to fuck a bloke that it took him twelve hours to accept that he’d  have to sacrifice the muffins to get it? And what did Corey mean by ‘muffins’? Was he offering to bake them? Buy some? or was Marcus expected to provide? Maybe it was some sexual term. 

A quick check to the Urban Dictionary confirmed it was slang for ‘pussy’, which just amused Marcus more. Did his Corey guy get on the wrong app? And if he meant ‘pussy’, then why was anal not hidden under some food euphemism? It wasn’t like there was a shortage. Plus, did he just want to see a vagina or did he want to have sex with one? And anal? 

Marcus decided to put his TA skills to the test. He sat down on the sofa, eating a late afternoon snack of Cap’n’Crunch in his underwear – it was too hot after his shower to put on pants – and replied:

Thesis statement severely inefficient. To what context is ‘muffins’ applied? Are you exploring acquiring or conceiving such muffins? Are you exploring ‘muffins’ as a cultural appropriate of the female body, or are you simply researching baking? Also please relate how your interest in anal – presumably anal sex? – ties to your core topics. Then he hit send.

Marcus didn’t expect Corey to respond and got distracted with Tumblr. Someone was posting hot ballet boys and he was enjoying scrolling. As he was getting down to the milk in his bowl, Corey actually responded. Marcus flipped out and opened it immediately.
Corey: WTF bro.
Marcus chuckled and texted back: Still waiting clarification over here. Were you high?
Corey replied: Nah bro…pastry arts student. Was up to 3 am yesterday testing recipes for class. We had to make muffins without any recipes. Was too horny to sleep. 
Marcus: Oooohh. 
Well, most of the mystery was gone. 
Corey added: I might have also been high, actually. You know, #bakingbaked?
Ok so, that explained it. Corey was chatty of all of a sudden.
Corey: So I was going through old Grindr messages. I missed yours.  You’re hot. I’d fuck you, bro. Still would. 

I waited for an obvious follow-up but when he didn’t, I had to beg the question.
Marcus: But…are there still muffins?
Corey sent him a photo, and Marcus had to laugh. The counter in his kitchen was piled in at least four dozen muffins. Layers of them, all haphazardly stacked and smooshed under glass domes. I may have muffins.
Marcus: Are they good?
Corey: Yeah they’re great. Just really crumbly, or sweet or something. Experiments 2, 4, 5, and 8.
Marcus: What happened to the rest.
Corey: Uh…mistakes were made. There was a fire. 
Marcus hooted. He scrolled through Corey’s photos again. Get laid now, yes or no? Hm…. His fingers flew over the keyboard: So…anal and muffins?
Corey replied instantly: Fck! Yeah! Are you a muffin top or a bottom?”
Marcus found himself liking this guy more and more. Maybe he was still high but he was entertaining. Bottom. 100% bottom twink.
Corey: U on campus?
Marcus: In Reinheart dorms.
Corey: Fuk yah. I’m in Ross Dorms. 415. Bring milk.
Marcus grinned: I just showered. Be there in ten. 

As Marcus put his bowl in the sink his roommate came home. “Oh hi Ben, bye Ben!”
“Uh hi and bye and where are you going and without pants?”
“Don’t need pants,” Marcus explained as he took the milk out of the fridge, “I’m going to the next dorm to get laid.”
“…At 2 in the afternoon?” Ben asked.
“Dude, there’s muffins involved.”
Ben perked up. “Bring me some.”
“Will do!”
“But put on pants, please. You have to go back to your room to get condoms anyway.”
“Uuuhhh fine, Dad,” Marcus said in a dramatic, queeny voice. He came out wearing pink sweatpants that said ‘Juicy’ on the ass.
Ben sighed. “Work in progress. By the way, who is this guy?”
Marcus picked up my keys on the end table. “Corey in 415. See ya!”
Ben watched his roommate go then dove for the cabinets. “Wait, wait, take a tupperware container for the muffins!”
“Oh my god Ben seriously?”
Ben shrugged. “A man’s got to have priorities.”
“And right now, mine is getting laid.” Marcus plucked the tupperware out of his outstretched hand then turned left with a smile.
“Have fun with the Muffin Man!” Ben called
“Oh fuck you seriously.” And then Marcus closed the door behind him, listening to Ben laugh to himself in the kitchen.

Corey in 415 turned out to be a hot little stud muffin himself, a somewhat husky but handsome pastry student and budding chef who spent too much time in the kitchen and not enough time in the bedroom. Marcus made sure to remedy that, as he did for the rest of the school year. His waistline was not too happy about Corey’s talents, but that’s why the gym was invented right?

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Text is 100% fictional and Corey’s personality is fictional as well. This post came from the Tumblr straightboystexting​ but it just struck a chord with me and I had to write this silly (gay) thing.