Tag: kept boy

by ccallenreese

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[Sequel to Egg Gets Rehomed]

Egg paused between rows of apple trees and gazed out to where they vanished into the misty horizon. The first efforts of frost on the grass crunched under his leather slippers. The sun was barely past the horizon, the hour early. Egg took a deep breath of the crisp, fruit-scented air and exhaled through his nose. For a moment, he was verklempt that this ethereal panorama of nature was part of his new life and the vision went blurry at the corners of his eyes.

It seemed an entire planet away from his childhood in the filthiest part of Rockham City. It was if his orphan years of hunger and loneliness from 7 to 18 simply never existed at all, or maybe this orchard was in-fact a dream he was experiencing during a night’s sleep in the church basement where he used to spend his winters. Instead of ugly water that coursed through docks where he forewent schooling for coin and scrap-metal hunting, Egg only saw a river of endless grass flanked by apple trees instead of boats.

He pushed his palm into his eyes to clear the tears. Egg did not regret selling himself, although his first master was harsh and hurtful. He recalled the morning he awoke to discover he’d been sold while he had slept the night prior. Initially he was terrified, as rough people have rougher friends. Master Kinbridge was a fine Master though, firm but patient.

There had been some hard days in the training room and bedroom, and more than a few smacked palms left sore due to burnt tea, yes, but overall…Egg was proud to serve under him. Master Kinbridge had taken great care of his sensitive skin and stomach, avoiding materials with nickel and modifying his diet to remove rich foods foreign to a guttersnipe’s gut flora.

This morning’s breakfast was set to be apple porridge with maple sugar from the north. Egg had been waiting for weeks for the apples to be ready for harvest, watching the farm buzz with workers and horses. Restauranteurs and merchants had been pestering his Master for the dates when the barrels would begin arrive. It would be any day now, for sure.

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Egg padded up to a random tree and let his eyes rove through the branches, admiring the red orbs and their yellow-ish green tones. Real fruit. Fresh fruit, as far as the eye could see. Well kept property, just like himself. Egg realized if he dawdled any longer, there wouldn’t be enough time to simmer breakfast before Master Kinbridge got out of the bath. He found two lone apples pulling heavy and low on a near bare branch. With a couple flicks of the wrist, the branch was relieved of its burden and sprang back up into the treetops.

The young man held apples to his nose to draw in their scents and smiled as his fingertips lingered on his slim collar. Autumn was here. No longer did he dread another winter. Autumn was here, and he was home.
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[Pictures came from Flickr users. Orchard photo source is here; apple photo source is here.]

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by ccallenreese

bondcyberrole:

TOPIC: four college buds sharing a cabin rental together are about to change clothes and hit the few bars in the small resort town nearby. two will get lucky, finding the perfect piece of tail and spending the night elsewhere. one will go back to the cabin drunk and sadly horny from a futile pussy chase. one will end up missing for over 30 days.

DISCUSS: choose which one of the four “buds” ends up “mia” and briefly describe what happens to him?

Answer: The one second to left.

The man he couldn’t see smacked his balls until they red and swollen and his cock was hard as a rock. Gagged, blind-folded, and tied to the bed, he could only emit muffled screams as the unknown assistant alternated between striking his tender genitals with a riding crop and massaging them with a cool hand. Just when he was about to start crying, the smacks stopped. The blind folded was removed and the captive blinked slowly in the natural daylight of the bedroom. There was a man standing over him, wearing a hood to obscure his features. He had no tattoos, no identifying marks…just a thin, long penis swaying between his legs.

The man resumed rubbing the bound boy’s testicles, but reached over and picked up something on the bed. It looked like a large hole puncher or something. The stranger set it on his stomach, followed by a bag of tiny rubber bands.

“First of all, I’m going to keep you here for a month or so. You will wear a shock-collar, you will be put in chastity and forbidden to masturbate. I will decide when you eat, when you bathe. You will only be allowed to use the toilet once a day, so you will be wearing a diaper. You will come to me to have it changed. You will service all my sexual needs, including giving my balls a tongue-bath in the morning.” The young man’s eyes were wide, he protested under the gag and shook his head wildly back and forth.

“That isn’t the choice. That is what’s going to happen. Do you know what this is?” the man gestured to the metal instrument on the lad’s chest. “It’s a neutering device. It stretches those rubber bands which are then applied to the testicles. Eventually, they just fall off.” The captive was shaking now, the whites of eyes clearly visible. “That is your choice. You stay here for 30 days and be my sex slave, or I neuter you and add you to my collection of sterile boys in the barn I rent out as sex slaves. There is a collector in Germany who would love to have your fat balls in a jar.”

For a moment there, the master thought the captive had passed out and struck him on the tip of his cock to get his attention again. It worked.

“I will tell you that I’m not so cruel. There will be nights where your will flesh sting, your ass sore, and your cock aches, but your life will never be in danger. Getting rid of bodies is… a tad inconvenient, So, young man, are you going to be good? For me?” The master’s eyes glimmered as he saw the tied up boy nod his head miserably. “Good boy. I’ll go get your collar, chastity device, and diaper. Oh one more thing. There’s video cameras in every room… if you run away, the tapes get set out to everyone you ever knew.”

Pleased, he left the room to let the boy think about his new life for the next month.

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by ccallenreese

He’d been such a good slave lately that I rewarded him on the anniversary of signing our contract. He couldn’t believe his eyes when I gave him his breakfast dish – fried honey ham pieces drizzled in maple syrup, eggs with bell pepper pieces with a squiggle of-ketchup, and fresh peach slices bathed in cream and only a little of my cum. Watching him eat was nearly as fun as giving it to him. I rarely give him any praise at all…but now he knows beyond a doubt I’m proud, and so he’ll work even harder not to disappoint me.

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chasteslvdog: Sir, Please let me cum, Sir……..

by ccallenreese

chasteslvdog: Sir, Please let me cum, Sir……..

chasteslvdog:

The slave has been locked by hypnosis for 5 days without cum till now. I was having 80% hard on for 80% of time in the office, and feeling constantly dripping inside my pants. I wanted to cum so much that I didn’t care if my coworkers noticed my hard on.

By hypnosis, slave has been programmed to…

Such a good boy – wet and horny, but he still doesn’t lose focus.

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by ccallenreese

When I bought my farmhouse, my mother taught me to look past the surface layer and look instead at the potential. Anything can be repainted, faucet fixtures can be replaced, carpet can be ripped out, rooms can be added, joined. It’s more important to focus on the foundation, check for mold, etc,

All of that upper-handed knowledge went out the window the second I saw him. I knew, instantly, that he would be going home with me, without even having read his dossier. I didn’t even make him uncurl, I just watched him sleep. I had to spend an hour doing my best acting with Master Rutherford, feigning disinterest and alluding boredom. There had to be a reason why the price was so low. What was he hiding?

Master Rutherford insisted that there was no secrets, it was just he couldn’t handle three and run his rifle business at the same time. I considered his other two boys. They were steel eyed and muscular, one chained up in a choke collar by his feet, the other militant in leather by the front door.

“Handle?” I scoffed, gesturing to the lad asleep on the rug, “He looks docile as a ragdoll cat.”

Master Rutherford set down his whiskey glass, “That’s kind of the problem, actually. He’s very …sensitive. His skin, I mean, and his stomach too. He cries at the drop of a hat. I’ve told him he made a mistake selling himself, but he seems determined to stick it out. I don’t know. I just can’t own a boy I can’t whip without feeling like I’m kicking a puppy.”

I didn’t say anything. I knelt by him, my calfskin boots creaking softly, and pushed a lock of chestnut hair out of his eyes. I traced the back of my fingernails over the knot of shoulder muscle. Gently, I lifted one of his legs too and had a look. Uncut. 900 pieces was a fine price for such raw material.

It was growing late, and this bartering was growing stale. “I’ll take him.” I announced. Master Rutherford clapped his hands together, “Excellent! Most excellent. I’ll get the transfer paperwork ready and send it over to the Processing Center in the morning.” He got up from the sofa and left the room for his office. I stopped him in the doorframe. “A moment, Rutherford?”

“Yes…?” he asked hesitantly.

“What do you call him?”

He glanced at the boy, then back at me, “Names don’t seem to stick to him. He always sleeps in a tight little ball like that…so I’ve taken to calling him Egg.”

“Egg…” I murmured, “A fragile name for a fragile slave.” The boy – my boy – stirred but didn’t wake up. He would be in for a surprise tomorrow when he got the news. “Don’t you worry lad, even if a chicken laid you in a peasant’s hen-house, I am going to turn you into a Fabergé.”

Credit: Photograph by the talented DearIndifference on DeviantArt. You will need to sign in, as most of his photographs are under the mature filter.

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by ccallenreese

“No, baby, stop touching it. You gave your body over to me for discipline training remember? No no, don’t drag it on the carpet! There, good. Focus on your ass. Arch your back like …that, yes, you’re fucking gorgeous. … Stop touching it! You really have no self-control, do you? Hm. You know, I think that beautiful ass would look better pink.”

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by ccallenreese

The fag hauled all the heaviest supplies two miles from the truck to the camp site where they were to spend the weekend repairin’ fences. It was only fair to the horse, who was already carrying his Sir. Once there, the Master instructed his boy to strip and rinse off in the river. Not only was he at risk for over-heating, but he stunk and was covered head to toe in dust, sweat, and his owner’s piss. The young man had a long swim, until he came up for air once and saw his Sir waiting on the bank, his cock in his hand. The fag shook the water off of his tanned skin and went to claim his reward for a job well done.