Tag: gay captions

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by ccallenreese

 I returned from war with a mild form of PTSD. During the day, I was fine as long as there weren’t any loud noises. I couldn’t drive anymore because every time I saw trash on the road I had an anxiety attack, but bicycling was safe and harmless. Night was the hardest though. I’d have vivid awful dreams in where I couldn’t move and had to watch people die, or had pertinent information that could save lives but it wouldn’t come out of my mouth. I would thrash horribly and wake up shouting, often dumped on the floor in a tangle of sheets.

While combing the internet for treatment for night terrors, I discovered the benefits of pressure. Thundervests for dogs to calm them during storms. Squeeze chutes to relax cattle during herding. Mothers swaddle newborns to duplicate the cramped womb. You can’t really burrito yourself in at night. Someone has to do it for you. By the time I concluded my research, I had only slept about 25 hours that week and was desperate to not wake up either on the floor or vomiting into the toilet.

I discovered a networking site called Recon and made a profile. I messaged a few guys in my area, but most declined my request. One said I was into bondage for the wrong reasons. Another said I would hurt myself if I thrashed around in rope restraint at night. The sixth person I messaged offered me a glimmer of hope. His name was Mick, and he said he had a straight jacket I could wear, which might duplicate the experience. Mick lived an hour away by car so I took the train. We talked over coffee. I think he pitied me.

When it was time for bed, he took me up to his guest room and showed me where I’d be sleeping. I balked at the idea of wearing what was obviously an adult diaper but he basically said it was that or wet the bed if I had to go. At this point, I was so desperate to get a good nights rest that I just gave in, self respect be damned. He was a patient man, and explained step by step what he was doing as he tied my straps. To my shock, the more immobile I became the more my cock began to stiffen. I hadn’t been able to rouse it since I returned from the Middle East. I was a bit relieved Mick couldn’t see it as I was on my stomach and in so much padding.

By the time, the ankle cuffs were in place, my cock was throbbing but I said nothing. Mick left me with a water bottle that I could open with my teeth, a baby monitor in case I needed help, and that was it. Darkness. Hard or not, I was asleep within minutes.

I slept for 10 hours and dreamed of nothing. I woke up feeling so alert and bright I wondered if the water had been drugged. The diaper was wet though, which was humiliating in itself as I couldn’t do anything about it. I called for my Mick over the communication device and he came in to undo my straps.

“How’d you sleep last night?” he asked.
All I could say was, “I slept. I actually slept.”

When I took off the diaper in the bathroom, I realized that it wasn’t urine in the padding but semen… lots of it.

I never told my therapist about my alternative sleeping methods, but coupled with those sessions I began to heal. Mick and I fell in love and we moved in together. Every night, he’d tie me up tight with the padding in place, only now he’d kiss me on the head before rolling over and turning off the lights.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

It’s 2 am and the party is winding down. I need to leave soon – 10 am classes and all –  but I can’t find my roomie anywhere. I’m a tad worried. I brought him here because I knew a lot of gay guys were gonna be here, and I wanted him to feel comfortable in his new-found sexuality. I’d never forgive myself if someone raped him, or worse, kidnapped him and then raped him. Gorram it, where is he?

I jog up the stairs to the second floor of this McMansion, cursing it’s unnecessary amount of rooms. Bathroom? Nope. Closet? Nope, just one pissed off cat. The first bedroom is emitting light from under the door. I open it and find a pile of girls asleep on the bed. Weird, but nope. I walk to the end of the hall and pause in front of the second bedroom door. Green light? Wait, that’s smell? Weed, oh that makes…sense.

I push the door open, bracing myself for the wave of skunky smoke and bewildered stares of stoned frat boys…. but what I see inside blows my mind. There was my roommate alright, and two other boys – one being my younger step-brother and the other I did not know – in the middle of an intense threeway orgy of frotting and fucking. My jaw drops. I can see someone’s dick but I can’t tell whose it is. Wow, they are really going at it. They didn’t even pause when I opened the door. Heat spreads across my cheeks and my cock twitches in my pants. Goodness gracious.

I pull out my wallet and remove the condoms I put in there earlier and set them on the nightstand. As I back out slowly. It feels like I’ve trespassed into the lair of some nocturnal animal and am trying to appease it with an offering while simultaneously not catching its attention. With great delicacy, I tip toe out of the room and coax the door shut, returning the doorknob to its resting position without a sound. For a moment, I just stand there absorbing it all.

“Congrats, buddy, what a way to lose your virginity,” I say under my breath, a little smirk on my face. I whistle as I trot down the stairs and head home alone.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

gayboykink:

What story does this picture tell you?

Mmm my first reaction would be to say that the Sir on the left put his boy’s little nub in protection for his own safety, and that he wanted to have a picture for him to commemorate the day it became permanent. However, I noticed that the erect boy is shaved too so maybe he’s not the Sir, but another sub. Perhaps this photo was taken by their keyholder as a comparison shot to show to other Sirs who are thinking of doing the same thing. Or maybe…I got it, it’s a photo to show the two states of male slaves available at a popular BDSM club. Either way, I’m willing to bet that the locked boy dropped to his knees afterwards and serviced that erection until someone pulled him off of it.

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by ccallenreese

Willard squeezes my hand with such force, my knuckles crack. He was trembling in anticipation as we leaned in closer…and closer until our lips were just a centimeter apart. We hadn’t even declared we were boyfriends at this point, just two young men that had grown close over a summer holiday in the Hamptons. His mother came from old Chicago money, my father owned a hospital in Indianapolis. 3 hours apart at home, but 3 streets away here. There were so many single college kids at the Hamptons over break, but I was attracted to his boyish charm, down to earth nature, and his obsession with identifying every single bird at the feeder. As the days drifted on we slowly pulled away from loud, drunken parties and bored rich girls, spending more and more time with each-other. His parents didn’t approve of “his gay experiment”, so we spent most of the time at my house.

The movie we were watching had just ended and we were talking over cream sodas when he caught my gaze in a particular way, and I knew he wanted to know what it was like to kiss with a man for the first time. I sought out his hand and he clung to it like a life preserver as we moved towards each-other. The kiss was a shy, sweet affair, just a little pressure with no tongue. I titled my head a bit for a better angle and we held the intimacy for a long moment before withdrawing for air. I marveled at how hard he was blushing. We nuzzle a little, cheek to cheek, to seal in the memory.
“So…not bad?” I asked after a bit.
“…Nice,” he answers, “Your lips are really soft…”
I give him a little peck and he nips me back.
“I like kissing you more than the girl my parents want me to date back home." 
"Well, kissing boys isn’t all that different. It only really detours once you hit second base and third base.”
“Aaaand you know about these things?”
The corner of my mouth slides up into a crooked smile. “I do. Never been to homeplate though.”
He bites his own lip and looks at me, contemplating this perverted version of a baseball game. “Hey I just noticed something…”
“Hm?”
“You’re gay and your shirt…it says Ball on it.”
“What?” I burst into laughter at the complete 180° change in topic, “It’s a University! It’s where I go to school!”
He still hasn’t let go of my hand. “Yeah but… it’s funny! You know, because…because of balls!”
Hearing such a profane word come out of his virgin mouth causes me to lose it. He sputters, trying to save face as he watches me dissolve into hysterics. “It’s not that funny!”
I’m laughing too hard to reply in a proper fashion, “It IS funny! It’s not a school named after testicles, it’s named after the Ball Brothers-”
This sets him off and now both of us are acting like we’re on nitrous oxide. After a couple minutes of laughing like hyenas, we regain composure. Willard wipes the tears out of his eyes. I’m surprised when he’s brave and kisses me again, but I cannot help but spoil the moment. In my lowest, huskiest voice, I whisper, “Balls,” and it sends us writhing on the sofa, grasping our sides again.

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by ccallenreese

I exhale in mourning at the destroyed bed scene, still warm but no longer habitable. This is what happens when you adopt a Great Dane pup and don’t get up early enough. They get bored and bring you their favorite toy to play, but when you don’t wake up they snuggle up with you and of course doze off. In their desperate need to cuddle, you end up pushed out onto the floor. Awakening to the sensation of falling out of bed and hitting the floor with a smack was a rude experience, but I just cannot be furious at my big troublemaker. I know, I should drag him out and scold him with a swat but instead I want to rub his bel  – wait, where the hell did his collar go? Did I not put it back on after the bath last night? Christ, he was filthy after playing rugby at that meet-up.

A yawn escapes my mouth. I will not let my pup run the house. Take up the whole mattress, will you now? I crawl back into my bed and push him onto his back, then splay out on top of him, ignoring the jut of his sternum and pelvic bones. I use his shoulder as a pillow and pull the comforter up to my neck. He whines and squirms at my mass and we have a bit of a tussle. Eventually, we end up spooning side by side, my arms wrapped around his chest. He pushes his butt up against my crotch and then stills in rest again. I throw a leg over his thigh and grind back. Great, now I’m half horny and half asleep. His ass is going to take the full brunt of the punishment for this when I wake up later. I ghost my fingers over his abs as I too drift back into slumber.

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by ccallenreese

His mom has gone to the store to pick up some extra things for dinner; his father could be home any minute. I’m over at his house, meeting my boyfriend’s parents over a three day weekend. We’re both in college and in love in the most stupid ways, and oh yeah did I mention we’re both horny as rabbits? The second her car pulled away, I push against him and we crash into the closed piano, kissing furiously.

Ours shirt go flying so we’re body to body, me grinding my erection against his thigh. He groans and reaches back to squeeze my ass hard, and when I say hard I mean he’s a pitcher on our college’s softball team. I gasp and jump up onto the balls of my feet and he snickers, nipping at my lip. I cup his neck and stroke his beard with my thumb as we fence with our tongues. Right when I’m distracted with his firm boner against my groin, he guides a wide hand down the inside of my jeans – I never wear underwear – and he then slides a finger right into my ass. I squeal at the intrusion and inhale a sharply, my cheeks flush pink as I sense a wet spot in my jeans.

“You bastard!” I hiss.
He grins at me and pushes it in deeper, “You know my dad could be home any minute… wanna go fuck on my childhood bed? I have Batman bed sheets.”
“Oh baby, you make me so wet. Batman bed sheets? Let me pinch the tip of my cock shut, the cum is just leaking out!”
He throws his head back in laughter. “This is why I love you.”
I smile. “I love you too. Now fuck me or I’m going to greet your dad hard as a rock.”

By the time we hear the garage door open, we’re struggling to rebutton our pants and waft the bedroom free of that sex smell. We catch each-other’s sheepish gaze across the room, and in that moment, I suddenly know that I’m gonna marry him one day.

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by ccallenreese

A submissive languishing with no one to hold the other end of the leash is an unfortunate situation. He just wants someone to keep him, to cherish him, teach him, but there’s no one to take the lead. No one to keep him warm at night, no one to appreciate his cooking, no one to control his cock. Won’t someone consider him? He’ll be a good boy, he promises. 

Any of my writer readers want to take him home?