Dancer: Denis Vieira
Photo by Alvar Fañez
Wow, the curvature of his body, the straightness of his leg, the strength of holding himself up on one foot! So impressive; what beautiful pose that makes all his strength look effortless.
Tag: gorgeous
Vermeil.
Timofej Andrijashenko
Rome Opera Ballet
Corpo di ballo del Teatro dell’Opera di Roma
What a mouthful of a name for a slip of a dancer.
Someday, my prince will come.
(Yet another one of the endless beautiful photos of Friedemann Vogel; in this he’s doing a perfect arabesque. Btw, I don’t think he’s actually gay.)
The buckshot scatter of freckles and bright red hair gave his origins away instantly. I ghosted the back of my fingers over his soft cheek. “Pretty boy, what are you doing so far from home?”
He cast his eyes down. “I am not pure blooded. They discarded me. No one will hire me or let me board because of stereotypes, they think I am a danger.”
“You don’t seem dangerous. You’re bonded using minimal security devices, no muzzle or harness or hood.”
“They fear that I will burn them all or set their houses on fire while I sleep.”
I give him a soft look of pity. Life is not easy for half-blooded demons in this world, especially the element ones. “So how did you end up for auction here?”
“I offered myself. I was terrified I’d be kidnapped and sold into slavery on the black market to a collector. I heard horrible things…” he trails off. “Well, at least, this way, the Society screens the bidders and I’ll go a good home. This is my third auction though, and it seems no one in society wants me at all, not even as a pet.” His shoulders sagged, and I could hear in his voice he was on the verge of tears. “I don’t know why my parents even conceived me. They should have been more careful.”
“Poor boy.” I caress his cheek again. The heat under his skin is magnetic. I can’t fathom how anyone would turn his prize down. It routinely dips below 0 in the winter. His bright hues would be a welcome sight against the whiteness of the season, and his hot thermal body would be a welcome addition to cold nights.
“I own and run a musical instrument shop and repair center. There is a lot of wood. Are you going to be a danger to my merchandise?”
His eyes search mine, unsure what I am truly asking. “No – no sir!”
“You can control it?”
“Yes,” he says, with confidence. “It is not as strong as others, because I am half-blooded, but I can control it. I don’t sneeze fire or whatever the rumors say.”
I snicker. “I heard one that says fire demons ejaculate lava.”
He screws up his face into one of annoyance. I find it charming. “That is wholly incorrect Sir.”
I chuckle. “I would hope so.” I wave over a clerk and ask for his dossier. The clerk rushes to bring me the clipboard and I peruse the documents. I read through his medical papers, making sure I’m not missing anything. “Mn I see you’re on the pill…you still experience heats? I thought that didn’t happen in half-bloods?”
He shifts, embarrassed. The chain connecting the cuffs on his feet rattles lightly. “Another untruth. If the dominant genes are human, no, if the dominant genes are from the demon parent, then yes. I was genetically screened when I joined the Society – my human genes are recessive.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I see. I appreciate your honesty, boy.”
“…Is that bad?”
“No. I think I would enjoy having you off the pill very much, though.” My hand lifts his cock and pulls back the foreskin, making sure it’s not too tight. I hum an approval.
He blushes hard.
“Clerk? Please bring me the bidding paperwork please.”
The young lad lights up. “You’re really- I mean, you want to purchase my contract?”
“I think three auctions is enough. You’re eager and beautiful and will thrive under my training in my home. I can see you would benefit from being taught some decorum, and I will fix that. I can see the ache to serve in you, to be wanted, to have a place. Plus, now I won’t have to fuss over lighting that stupid pilot light again.”
He beams and I can smell the fresh scent of roasting cedar coming off his skin. “I will not disappoint you Sir.”
The clerk brings over the paperwork and waits to guide me to a bidding counselor. I turn to leave the half-blood so I can go sit down and fill it out, but at the last moment I turn and give him a parting phrase. “All I ask is that you do not burn me. And I do mean both definitions of that word.” I leave with the clerk and let the lad ponder its meanings.
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Text is fictional. The saturation on this picture is way up, but the model’s name is redhead Oliver Dale.
I sighed and flicked through the images I shot on my camera. Generic after generic shot of a famous actor in his skivvies on a stool. Boring boring boring. He had a good body and the sheen of sweat from the heat of the lights was helping but…
I looked around my studio for a prop or something, and what’s when I saw the bucket. It had used it for a country themed shoot a week ago. I barked out an order for my intern to fill it with water. He did, then came back over to ask me what to do with it. I told him to throw it on Jake. My intern gave me a deer-in-head-lights look, as if to say: You want me to throw a bucket of water on Jake Reynolds? THE Jake Reynolds, from hit shows Dr. What and Chess with Chairs? “Yes” I said, “Do it”. So he did.
Jake whooped when the water hit him and tossed his head like a dog. “Shit that feels good!” he laughed. He stretched his arms up and I shot off another couple dozen frames. Now this is what I wanted – very casual, very intimate. That underwear company is gonna sell tons after this runs in GQ. Of course, I’ll be enjoying it myself too, although it is a little narcissistic to be masturbating to your own photographs.
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Text is fictional. I have a source! This is Corey Higgins; the photographer is Calvin Brockington.
Well, well… look how my boyfriend was dressed when I got home from college. Under his clothes he was bound, locked, plugged and reaaalllly eager to reverse some roles. Give him a like for his Tumblr debute. ^^
Ya know, if I miss stuff like this from being at Coachella, maybe I just shouldn’t go anymore. Damn he looks good, and the fact he was so wary about kinks in the beginning makes this even better. gayboykink, I think this one is a keeper.
Impressive ropework. <3
I can’t help but imagine how it would be to have this harness tied over a pair of underwear. It’d make some interesting, chastity like confinement… Plus it’s perfectly wearable under clothes in public. ^^
gayboykink sees the positive potential in everything. Imagine brushing against this guy in the grocery store and feeling the ropes under his clothes, then you’d exchange a look and he’d knew you’d know.
Davide Dato, Vienna State Ballet
Another late night ballet reblog of a beautiful man with beautiful legs doing beautiful, effortless dancing.
(Source: https://player.vimeo.com/)
Here is a professional shot of the rare, Urban Frilled Crane. On the first day of summer, this sleek creature finds the highest point in its territory and stands as tall as he can to survey his lands. Also, a higher vantage point means less to obscure views of him from potential mates. Having molted most of his winter coat down to bare skin, his frilled waist draws the eye immediately, Those with thick, stiff black frills with plenty of volume will attract a mate the quickest. Urban Frilled Cranes can hold this uncomfortable-looking position for hours, as special bony plates on their toes support the weight of the ankle and body.
As you can see, the upward position accentuates the calves, lengthens the legs, lifts the ass, and the wing positions frame the muscular, defined chest well. Some Urban Frilled Cranes have soft down on top of their heads; this sub species does not. However, his mate may or may not have down. A good frill attracts all suitors, and all suitors will be considered individually for a partner.
(Post is fictional. I tried for twenty minutes to find the identity of this dancer but could not find it. Drat. Last ballet reblog tonight, falling asleep here.)
God, he’s so pretty.
This is dancer Robert Bolle again. He is pretty isn’t he? With his little chest constellations, firm pouty lips, soulful eyes, and arms sculpted like sand dunes, he could break your heart or say the the cruelest, cutting words about your body and you’d still cling to every honeyed word he says. Fortunately for you, judging by he look on his face, Robert is on the cusp of ravishing the next person who comes along unconscious… and I can’t help but feel he’s looking into a mirror here.
(Btw in case my new followers were wondering what that explosion of ballet pics were – that was one of my late night ballet reblog sessions. Do love the dancing men. This is the last pic for tonight~)