Tag: gay captions

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by ccallenreese

There is praise I can never give you, for there are not words, or emotions, or smiles to convey how much I am grateful for you. You somehow, always, telepathically know when I’m at my worst. It’s usually after therapy, but sometimes just for no reason. Those are the days when the medication isn’t working, and I just can’t get out of bed. I don’t know why you want to be with a guy suffering from clinical depression. I mean, I love you, but it’s hard for me to show it. I don’t feel like I deserve to love you, or if I’m even loving you right at all, because I don’t feel many emotions. I mostly feel just negative ones. I always feel unworthy of you.

Yes, I know that release of endorphins and hormones from sex is healing and therapeutic. You know that making me have release can help wash my brain of the crap inside so that the drugs can move in and start working. I just struggle to initiate it. I mean, I struggle to lift my spoon. And yet you somehow, magically, see every time when I need it the most. You swap out my underwear for jockstraps while I’m showering and so of course, I put them on. I feel sexier that way, which enforces a positive body image. Still, I just can’t make myself go after you but you always, always come to me.

You climb into bed with me and pry me off of the pillow. You scoop me into your arms and kiss me, like I’m Sleeping Beauty. You make me feel treasured, and curiously flattered when your hand squeezes my ass. You rub against me and make me forget everything – how depressed I am, how deep in debt I am, how bleak my future is. You remind me that my future has you in it too, and just maybe, I can climb out of this hole.

Your embrace becomes this warm envelope of hope and humanity. You turn my sorrow into silk. For that, and all the ways you’ve supported me, I will always love you. And because of that, I have stopped thinking about suicide; because if the afterlife is absent of you, I do not want to go.

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Text is fictional. “You turn my sorrow into silk” is a lyric from giselle’s Silk. The Favored Nation’s remix is pretty good too. By the way, if any of you have suicidal thoughts, please call 1-800-273-8255 or your nation’s helpline.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Amir! Amir!” The press gather around him as he exits the Theatre, peppering him with dozens of questions:
“How does it feel to win your first Academy Award?”
“Amir, how do you feel about taking the win over Tom Cruise?”
“Amir, what comes next?”
“How will you celebrate?”

Amir freezes, trapped on all sides by journalists, unable to move. The lights are bright and dizzying. For a moment, his anxiety flourishes. He’s still high from his unexpected win and everything is just so over-whelming. However, Amir prevails because he remembers his training. He remembers that the approval of the public and the film industry and his fans comes second to his Dom. Caïn was there first, and Caïn taught him resilience and courage and patience Amir needed to go from a struggling actor to a household name. Caïn also taught Amir that someone would always love him, even if he failed. Amir momentarily closes his eyes and takes a few deep breathes. His fingers drift up to his neck without them even meaning to. He presses his fingertips against the starched white linen and feels for the metal circlet underneath. Amir is aware he is on camera, and that his Dom is probably watching. 

A lot of people were probably watching.

Amir thinks about his collar, and the still healing stripes on his back from their session last night. He thinks about how proud Caïn might be of him.

The press falls quiet. Someone asks if he is alright. Amir turns a little pink and opens his eyes. “Sorry everyone. I just – this is a very overwhelming night for me. I am still in a stupor. Mostly, I feel unworthy because as a young actor, I don’t feel like I deserve it. Well, yet, maybe. I’m still learning, every day. I hope Tom Cruise isn’t mad at me. I really respect him as an actor.”
Light laughter floats up.
“I have two more films in production right now, so I am going to focus on being a better actor and a roll-model for gay men in the film world. And mostly, I am going to celebrate by being not a good Muslim and getting very very drunk tonight.”
More laughter. Amir waves at them and makes his hasty exit to the awaiting car. Inside the privacy of the car, Amir is able to finally check his phone, which has exploded. He scrolls through the text messages until he finds the ones from Caïn:
There’s a few, but a new one pops up at that moment: “So very proud of you, boy. You handled yourself beautifully on TV. I know you are super nervous about live work. Also – when I saw you reach for your collar, it made me very horny. I cannot wait until you come home. Love you, and congrats again.”
Amir smiles and texts back: “I must be the only person depressed that I have to go to an Oscar party instead of being home.”
“Stay out all night if you have to, as I will tie you down tomorrow. I will be here, oiling my leather strap…waiting for you…I think champagne goes well with leather, don’t you think?”
Amir moans and adjusts his chastity device he wore tonight to control his boners, which have a mind of their own. “Thank you for permission to stay out Sir. I think champagne and leather is a great combination.”
“You’re a good boy Amir. You still locked?”
“Thank you Sir. I am, Sir. Happy you locked me Sir, as I am very excited right now.”
Caïn responds again: “So proud of the boy you’ve become Amir. It pleases me very much to know that everyone will want a piece of you tonight, but your cock still belongs to me.”
Amir groans. “I’m going to be thinking of that all night now, Sir!”
“Good. Now go celebrate. That’s an order.”
“Sir, yes Sir!”

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Text is fictional. This is Zayn Malik of the band One Direction apparently? Or ex-One Direction member? This caption is not fan-fiction and in no way attempts to personify him or assume his sexuality.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK!”
I clutch my sides, unable to stop laughing. “Pup! Brodie! Brodie! Seriously. Come here! you are never going to catch that seagull.”
He looks at me and whines, then puts his head down on his paws and wiggles his butt.
The seagull watches him with one beady eye from up on the fence, its beak clamped around a bag of barbeque potato chips.
“BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK!”
“Brodie!” I wheeze. I have to sit down.

The seagull hops to another fencepost. Brodie inches forward, muscles tense with energy. I watch from the sand as Brodie creeps up underneath the gull, more of a cat than a dog. The gull doesn’t seem interested in Brodie and gazes over the beach, as if trying to figure out where he eats the prize.

I’m holding my breath, watching Brodie seek his prey. Closer. Closer. After a few long moments, Brodie was directly under the gull. Slowly, slowly, slowly, my pup reaches up. We’re both holding our breathes. The gull could take flight at any moment. I’m silently cheering for my pup.

Then – Brodie makes a move. Like a lizard’s tongue, his fingers shoot out and grab the chip bag right out of the seagull’s beak. The seagull squawks and jumps, then looks around as if trying to figure out what just happened. Brodie looks at the chip bag in his hand in shock, then looks at me. My jaw is on the ground. I then whoop and punch a fist into the air. Brodie puts the chip bag into his mouth and begins to bounce up and down on his paws, woof-ing his head off.

People are staring at us now. Brodie puts his paws on the fence and shakes it under the gull flies away, and my pup gives it a loud farewell.

Satisfied, my pup trots over and puts the chip bag in my lap. I scritch him all over, then he headbutts me. I open the chip bag and feed him one. Brodie scarfs it down and licks my fingers.

“Alright, let’s go finish eating our lunch ok, boy?”
Brodie wiggles his butt, forgetting he’s not wearing his tail. “Arf arf!”

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Text is fictional. Puppy butt :3

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“…Uh, um, excuse me, Sir?” a young male voice asks, hesitantly.
I‘m too comfortable to consider moving. “What?” I grunt.
“Oh!” He gasps. “I uh, thought you were dead Sir. I was concerned.”
I chuff out a laugh, then lift my head and open my eyes. “I guarantee you I’m  very much alive, boy.” I consider the concerned citizen, a cute brunette clutching a towel around his waist and holding a bottle of water.
The young man brushes his bangs to the side. “Well in that case, do you mind if I join you?’“
“Aren’t there other pools?”
“Yeah but this is the only one with a bear in it,” he replies.
I open my eyes again. I watch him run his tongue over his bottom teeth. He’s got this coy look to his eyes. He sees something he likes and isn’t afraid to go after it.
“Is that how it is?” I reply, not having moved a muscle.
“Unless you prefer this otter get his own pool..”
“mmn. Trust me, the water is best in this one. It’s so cold.”
The young man sets his water bottle down. “Good, cause I’m fucking baking out here.” He drops his towel and I enjoy the view.
“Get in here.”
He smiles, then walks around to the side and slips into the pool. He gasps as the cold water shocks his nervous system.
“Dick go back inside?” I ask, chuckling.
“Why don’t you find out?”
“I imagine I will.”
The young man moves over to me. “My name’s -”
“Don’t care. Let’s not complicate this. Just two men…out here in nature. Nothing else out here has a name. Rock. Shrub. Sky. Kinda serene if you ask me.”
The young man’s quiet. “Yeah…when you put it that way, I gotta agree with you.”
I raise up an arm and he slides under it, resting his head on my hairy chest. I hook my arm around his back.
“Mmn, this is nice,” he murmurs.
I grunt in response.

After a few moments, he starts playing with my penis. I groan out in pleasure. It’s too cold in here for me to cum, but I never tell him to stop. Jesus, just when I thought this day couldn’t get any better….

When I woke up later, the otter was gone. For a moment, I felt a pang of loneliness, then one of concern. I reached for my wallet, under my clothes. The $20 bill in it was missing, but in place was a note written on a leaf. “If you want this back, call me.”

“Fuck.” I toss my wallet back down and grab my towel. “Sneaky otters. That boy wants my dick badly and he won’t stop until I give it to him. Well, let him find out what happens when a bear goes into heat!”

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

torontopup:

sir2u-boy:

I know you’re a fag, I know I shouldn’t like it so much, but damn, you give the best head I’ve ever had, and this tight little hole back here is making me think that if you fuck half as good as you suck, I’m gonna be moving you in. 

www.recon.com/torontoslave

Finally! I thought you couldn’t be any thicker! I mean, you think I give good head just because I’m a mindless faggot that goes totally blank at the sight of an unsucked cock – and yeah, that part’s true – but I don’t suck dick like this for anyone. I really like your cock, but there’s no way for me to tell you this without you thinking it’s a blanket statement. Your cock gets harder than any other penis I’ve played with, and it’s so easy for me to deepthroat it and really put my tongue to work. Plus, you grow so much it’s easy to keep my hand and my lips busy. It makes me feel so slutty, so powerful, to go all out for you. You have a dick that’s so easy to worship, that I will never get tired of it. And don’t even get me started on your balls.

On top of that, you’re considerate. Some alphas are pretty rude, but us fags are used to that. They don’t want to get too close to ‘gayness’. You though, you drive me crazy gently petting my hole like that. I always have to suck you shirtless or else I’d just sweat right through it. Every touch makes me tremble, and it makes my cock throb so hard. My pants are always soaked when I’m done servicing you.

Once you fuck me, I know you’re going to have difficulty wanting me to even leave even to do errands. It just won’t seem right that I’ll be sleeping elsewhere from then on. Once you fuck me, you’ll know that no one can care for your dick or your sexual needs like I can. Every other boy will be a replacement for me. Every faggot is up for adoption – don’t forget that. I want to come home to you too.

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Text is fictional. Good boy.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Uh Sam?”
“What is it Todd?” My best friend had come over to shower after our baseball game as my house was closer. His was way out in the country. 
“I um, might have made a mistake.”
“What is it?”
“Ya know how I said I was gonna go take one of your Claratin for my allergies?”
“Uh huh?” I asked, tilting my head.
“Well I accidentally took a sleeping pill instead.”
I blinked. “Well that wasn’t very smart, Todd.”
“I know!” he whines, stamping his foot. “I grabbed the wrong box.”
“Was it a small dose?”
“It has the same shit in it as Benedryl,” Todd said.
“Uh oh,” I chuckled “You are gonna pass out.”
“Make it stop,” he protests.
“I can’t. Are you going to fall asleep?
Todd thought. “Well I almost fell asleep in the car on the way over here. The damn game took so much energy out of me, running around in the outfield like that. If I couldn’t stay awake there then there’s now way I can stay awake now! Sam do something.”

I snorted. “I can’t magically undo this, Todd. I can give you my guest bed though. It’s comfy.” 
Todd sighed in surrender, then yawned. “Fine.”

I tucked him in. My hand brushed his skin which was still warm from the shower and burnished bronze from the sun. I watched with secret fascination as Todd nuzzled into the down comforter and got comfy. He was just so adorable. I was a bit uncomfortable with just how much I had a crush on him.

Right as Todd was about to fall asleep, he opened a heavy eye and said, “Stay with me for a bit.” I didn’t know what he meant by that, but he looked so vulnerable and sweet in that big bed. I crawled in there with him, wrapped my arms around him, and dozed off. When I woke up, Todd was pressed against me, head tucked under my chin, breathing softly.

I realized that I had gotten too close and that if Todd woke up now, I’d scare my best straight friend away. I regretfully extracted myself and tiptoed out of the room. The sun had set now, and my stomach was growling.

To my pleasure, Todd slept through the night. When he came down for breakfast the next morning morning, he was ruffled and rumpled. 
“How did you sleep? I asked, offering him OJ.”
He took the glass and sipped. “mm. Fruity. I slept well, thanks. I had a really nice dream…I can’t quite remember it now. It was like I was in a womb or something. Something was all around me, and I was SO warm and comfy.”

I blushed and turned back to the quiche I was making. “Is that so?”:
“Mmhm. It was nice. I like that bed. I wanna sleep here again sometime.”
“You are welcome to sleep here as often as you want, Todd.You know that.”
Todd looked at me oddly, then opened his mouth before deciding to close it. He turned away. 
“What?” I inquired, setting the spatula down.
“Do…you ever get the feeling that we’re more than brothers, Sam?”
My mind raced. What did that mean? “…You mean like, soul mates?” I asked.
Todd’s face lit up. I saw relief flicker on his face.  “Yeah exactly like that.”
I walked up to him and put an arm around his shoulder. “Yeah, bro, just like that. Nothing more.”

Then, I noticed he was half-hard..

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“What are you thinking, Jessup? You’re always so quiet.”
“Cause I’m listening.”
“What are you listening to? The shower?”
“You. Your breathing. The way the water splashes off your skin, the sound of the loofah as you wash me..”
“Are you enjoying it?” I ask.
“Mmm very much. It’s so hard to find a lover, with me as I am, and I’m sort of wondering if I”m dreaming sometimes, having such a great guy like you in my life. In my shower.”
I chuff through my nose. “You shouldn’t put yourself down in that way. I look for a few things in my partner, and the biggest one is personality.”
Jessup grins. “Are you sure the biggest isn’t the cock?”
“I thought that was why you liked me?” I pretend to be offended.
Jessup laughs.

“Hey…Jason.”
“Hm?” I inquire.
“…Would you do something for me?” Jessup asks, putting the loofah back on the hook.
“Anything.”
“Take control.”
“…Are you sure? But you hate being caught off guard.”
“Jason please,” he begs. “Everyone is so delicate with me because I’m nearly blind. I’ve retorted by being as picky as possible. I’ve never given control to anyone. I want to know what it’s like. Be rough with me. Ravish me.”
“Christ, it’s turning me on hearing you beg.”
“Do it,” he growls.
I take a step back and examine my Jessup. He loves to work out, and it’s carved these delicious lines and rolling waves of muscle into the canvas that is his body. A strong illiac crest slides downward to the impressive, veiny cock jutting out. It’s a shame he can’t see his package because the set is damn gorgeous. And it is mine for the taking.
“….Jason?” he says quietly.
I push him back against the wall. Jessup gasps in surprise as he is jostled, then again as his back hits the cold wet tile. Before he can get out the second half of “more”, I’ve pounced on him, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. Our lips meet and duel, and then I slip my tongue. Jessup’s hands seek my body and I press my palms into his torso, helping myself to a handful of his pecs. How can they so firm, yet so soft? I suddenly get why straight guys like tits.
I pin his arm against the wall, and when I move his limbs as I like, Jessup giggles; he’s giddy. His hand finds my waist and he pulls me against him. Our half-hard cocks meet and Jessup arches up. I can feel a moan thrumming in his throat as I kiss him, relentlessly.
“Fuck yeah, more, Jessup more!” he asks, breathy and hopeful.
Our lips meet again and again. I pin him in place with my hips and my grip. We rock together until our cocks are stiff as wood and sharing heat by sliding against each-other. The warm water slides down my back and gurgles down the drain.

I reach back with my free hand that’s not pinning his arm back and seek his ass. I squeeze it hard enough to make him shout.
“This is turning you on,” I purr.
“More Jason!”
“I do think you have a date with my bag of ropes later…”
He shudders and pre-cum dribbles down his shaft. I swipe it with my finger and taste it, then reach behind Jessup again and stroke his hole which I just cleaned.
Jessup whimpers and clings to me. “Jesus, Jason, no one’s ever made me feel like this.”
“I’m happy you thrust me.”
“…Did you just say ‘thrust’ instead of trust?”
Jessup quiets and stills, then his body vibrates with laughter. It’s contaigous and soon we’re bent over in hysterics.

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Sex TBC. Text is fictional. I actually wrote “thrust me” instead of trust me and just went with it. These hotties are from Sean Cody, naturally.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

Bo saw the pool empty on a nice Monday afternoon and saw an opportunity. His older brother Greg had his boyfriend over, and Bo was sure they’d be in it. He wondered where they were. Bo guessed they went out. He even decided to take a dip naked to avoid the wet laundry. When he took a step into the water, Bo heard a noise, and when he looked up he realized why Greg and his boyfriend weren’t using the pool – cause they were fucking in the cabana. Bo’s jaw dropped. Wow, it was really hot! They were really into it! Greg’s boyfriend, whatever his name was, was standing and getting pounded from behind. Hell, the wooden structure was creaking from their fucking.

It was sexier than anything else he’d seen on porn sites! Bo’s eyes went huge when he saw Greg pull out his long, thin dick and thrust it back in. His boyfriend moaned and threw his head back. Flecks of pre-cum went everywhere. 

Bo swallowed. “Shit.”
Suddenly, Greg’s boyfriend saw him. Bo could only stand there as watch as Boyfriend looked over his shoulder and said something to Greg. Greg looked up at little brother and grinned.
“Like what you see huh?”
Bo glanced down and his erection, then covered it in a hurry while blushing furiously.
Greg snickered. “I never pegged you for a boy-lover, Bo. Two in one family? Won’t dad be surprised.“
“I – I’m sorry, I don’t know you two were out here I -”
Boyfriend reached back and touched Greg on the thigh. They were having a hushed conversation that Bo couldn’t hear from where he was standing.
“You wanna come join us?” Greg asked. “Dennis always likes another cock to play with.”
Bo’s eyes went huge. “Wh-what? Are you serious?”
“Sure,” Greg said with a wave. “Come on. Teach you how to have some fun, little bro. You’re gonna be an adult soon. About time you learned.”

Bo’s heart was jack-hammering so hard he could barely form the words “yeah yeah sure” so he just nodded. Bo couldn’t take his eyes off of watching Dennis stroke his cock. It was short, but really thick. Bo wanted to go over there, so he took a step forward, not remembering he was on the pool steps. He fell face-first into the water..

When he emerged, gasping and flailing, Greg and Dennis were bent over laughing their butts off. Bo was sure he was blushing head to toe. Dennis came over with a towel and offered to dry him off, erection still bouncing. Bo was flattered – and turned on – to have the attention of older men. It would be a trend that would stick with him for the rest of his life.

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“You found him?” I repeat.
“Uh huh, just wandering around the streets, when I was out on my beer run,” Sully explains.
“Poor thing, he’s in shock,” Marcus adds.
“It’s pretty cold tonight.”
“He’s cute, can we keep him?” Marcus asks.
“Marcus, he’s not a puppy. Sully, did he say anything?”
“He just said that his Master got mad at him for ‘getting in the way’ and told him to take a long walk. He got lost. Then he clammed up, said he’s not allowed to speak to men without permission.”
I cup his chin, check his teeth. “He’s well cared for. Well-nourished. No scars or burns. Not neutered.”
Sully sips his beer. “Should we call the cops?”
“No, he’ll stay here tonight, where it’s warm and safe. If this slave meant so much to his Master, he would not have sent him out so late at night for something so unspecific. That’s how slaves get kidnapped on the black market. I’m going to make that Master fret all night about his boy.”
“Are you sure we can’t keep him? Sully never does the dishes around here.”
“Marcus!” I sigh. “No. He’s got a collar on. If we kept him, that’d be considered theft of property.”
“…But he looks so cute with that rope we found.”
“Why don’t you just get a puppy?” Sully wonders.
“I should, shouldn’t I?”
“Alright, it’s time we all went to bed.” I stand up.
“Can he sleep in my room?”
“He’ll sleep in the guest room, on that futon in there.”

“Thank you Sir, that’s kind of you.”
Everyone looks at the slave boy.
“It’s important that you’re well rested. An exhausted slave is useless.” I reply with a shrug. “Are you finished with your broth?”
“Yes sir.”
“Alright, bed time then. We’ll work this out in the morning.”

We tidied up the living room and trooped upstairs. After we put the boy down to bed, Marcus asked me again. “Are you sure we can’t keep him?”
I told him ‘no’ for the millionth time, and told him to go adopt a puppy.

If I had known that said Master had sent his boy outside to purposely “get kidnapped” by blackmarket slave traders in exchange for a huge pay-out, I would have never gotten involved. Because they would come looking for him, and we would put up the fight of our lives just so one slave could have a good home because, well, we grew attached him. He even got along well with our new puppy.

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

I watch Esteban sigh, toss, then turn. My eye rests on his rump before considering the bigger picture.
“What’s wrong? Did I not satisfy you?” I ask my oldest and dearest friend.
“No no, not at all. Your blowjobs are fantastic, each one better than the last. I’m just…restless, I think. Normally, your wonderful mouth makes me drowsy and I have the most wonderful naps sometimes. I just – I don’t know. I can’t sit still. I can’t relax. I want to nap, but can’t slow my brain.”
I furrow my brow. Now this was a challenge. I prided myself in filling all of his needs. My mother had been his family’s housegirl when I was growing up, and her son – me – became attached to the Gonzalez’s second son, Esteban. We were, and always would be, inseparable.
As I enjoy the sight of him shirtless, it dawns on me. “I know just the thing.”
“Oh?” Esteban asks, turning his face toward me.
“Spread out, face down,” I instruct. Rest your cheek on your arms.”

I wait for Esteban to get into position, then I climb into his bed and straddle the back of his legs.
“What are you going to do?”
I don’t answer him. Instead I reach forward and rake my nails down his back.
He arches up under me and groans. “Oh my god backscratches, yesss.”
I suppress a laugh and end up snorting out my nose. He always liked these as a little kid, but for some reason it’s not something people do as adults. I start at his shoulder blades, and scritch his upper arms, before returning to his upper back and working my way down his spine. I admire this rare view of him, and enjoy the sight of his muscle and bones and the shadows it casts on his sandy skin.

Under me Esteban is grunting and moaning. “Yeaah that feels so good.”
I smile, pleased with myself. I always know what he wants. It is my responsibility, more than anything else in the world to carry on the tradition – his family, my family, the symbiosis we share. 

When he begins to squirm with sensitivity, I change technique to a muscle rub. By the time I make my way downward to knead his firm doughy ass, Esteban has drifted off in a nap. I massage his balls for a moment, unable to help myself, and then I let him rest. Another challenge, another accomplishment – another scene of satisfaction. Esteban is getting the rest he needs.

I feel energized though. I decide to go make him some cookies for when he awakes.
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Text is fictional.