Tag: male models

by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

vallentiro14:

Marshal was starving when he came home. It was almost 2 am at this point and he really wanted to sleep, but his grumbling stomach came first. He winced in discomfort as he bent over to untie his work boots. The stage load-out for that show had been a bitch. Too much truss. Too many over-sized cases. Why did a band playing a venue that size need so many goddamn risers anyway? Gross. Marshal knew his whole body was gonna ache tomorrow. It was a good ache, considering he hadn’t worked a real concert in 18 months due to the Covid-related shut downs, but it was going to take time to get used to the physical labor again.

Marshal shuffled into the kitchen and set his bag on the bar counter. The light over the stove had been left on. Marshal pulled a glass out of the cabinet, and when he went to open the fridge he noticed the note on the handle:
Hey love, figured you’d be hungry. I made some cold ice tea for you, and you have a choice of ramen, a sandwich, or a frozen meal. Sleep well <3 J

“Awwww,” Marshal cooed. He smiled and put the note in his pocket. Inside he fridge he found a picture-perfect ham sandwich saran-wrapped on a plate. Marshal took it out. He turned back to the fridge to pour himself a glass of iced tea. It was only when he went to put the iced tea back in, did he realize something was slightly off. He stared at the fridge and waited for his sleep deprived brain to catch up.

The bento box wasn’t there. Jaime always put his lunch in this special tupperware he used and it always sat in the upper left hand corner of the fridge. Why had he not packed a lunch? Marshal furrowed his brow. Whatever the reason, he decided to return the favor by packing Jaime lunch.

His plans were thwarted upon opening the fridge drawer containing sandwich stuff. It was empty besides a half opened package of sliced cheese. They’d forgotten to get more deli meat when shopping yesterday. Marshal groaned. “Ah crap,” he muttered. He glanced at the sandwich on the counter and had a revelation. Jaime had used the last of the ham for him. The realization made Marshal’s heart feel warm and full. Such a sweet man, his Jaime.

Even though Marshal’s body was begging for rest, he had to set this right. Jaime was really trying to eat out less so he could lose weight, and Marshal didn’t want him to break the streak at work. So Marshal popped a frozen meal into the microwave and set out to make Jaime his lunch.
He found the bento box thing in the drying rack of the dishwasher. In it went the perfect sandwich, some grapes, and some of that bean salad they’d taken home from their friends pool party. He also whipped out the cutting board to chop up some celery sticks which he dumped into another little container, along with peanut butter. The bento box went into the fridge, where it belonged, with the celery container on top.
Marshal also positioned its carrier bag on the counter and added some pretzels and two cookies from the jar.

The only thing missing now was a note. Marshal stirred up the half-defrosted frozen meal and shoved it back into the microwave as he thought about what to write for a moment. His eyelids were struggling to stay open and poetry wasn’t his strong suit. So, Marshall simply wrote: I love you, you can hit your weight goal for sure <3 -M, and stuck it to the carrier bag.

Marshal shoveled the warm meal into his face, drank the whole glass of iced tea in one go, and stumbled to bed. The shower would have to come tomorrow. He was crashing. Marshal slid between the sheets and adhered himself to Jaime’s back. Jaime made a soft noise  Marshal nuzzled the back of his neck and fell asleep in less than a minute.

When Marshal awoke the next morning, he was alone in bed. It was inevitable, but a bit lonely. His emotions were buoyed by a new note waiting for him the kitchen: Oh my god, you’re so sweet, I actually kind of cried a little. This lunch looks amazing. Thank you so much. Love you so much too. Can’t wait until I get off to work tonight and I can see you. Let’s fuck <3″

Marshal laughed. Jaime had a way of making the most vulgar thoughts sounds adorable. And Jaime was not a shy man. Jaime liked his sex. Marshal was pretty smug that he was the one Jaime picked to receive it.
Marshal decided a run to the grocery store was going to be a priority today. He made a mental note to make sure they had enough lube and condoms before he went out. Lord knows they didn’t want to open that drawer and find it empty tonight! Not like they could use sliced cheese instead!

___________________
Captions are fictional.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

meninvogue:

Augusta Alexander photographed by Kosmas Pavlos

“Just, fuck, I can’t believe I didn’t get the offer. They were even making it sound like I did. Maybe I’m already burning out.”
“Hjorn.” I sat across from him on the window seat, my back to the window over looking 5th Avenue.
“What?” he grumps.
“We spoke about this before. It’s probably a good thing. Like your manager said, when you’re a new model you need to be everywhere, but as you get more of a profile going, you need to start crafting an image and niche of what you fill. This gives you value and helps clients find you. That company didn’t fit your image at all. You’re sexy and sophisticated. Cutesy isn’t your thing, and it’s better you didn’t get it. You need to focus on your shoot for the cologne today and on landing Balmain. That’s perfect for you.”
“And I love their style more,” Hjorn agrees. “That’s me.”
“Yes. Exactly. So don’t be too upset. Disappointed, fine, but not upset. You’re going to be huge. Especially if you get called back for that HBO show.”

Hjorn puts an arm on the back of the chair and leans back. With his knees spread, I can see up his robe a little. Just a little. He knows. “You know, Sylvie keeps asking me who you are to me. I guess as my manager she’s worried about people exploiting me as I get more well known. But I just couldn’t explain to her why exactly I like you around. And that’s why.” He points. “Right there. Because you tell me just what I need to hear, just like it is – not because you want my approval or for me to like you, but because I need to hear it. You don’t have secret intentions. You’re just my friend looking out for me. And even though we’ve been fucking since college, you’ve never tried to make it anything else. Which I don’t want right now. And I don’t have time for. And I never have to worry about your intentions. Cause you’d tell me.” Hjorn stands up and walks over to the bed in the other room. I stare at him for a stunned moment as my ears turn red.

I get up and follow him. “That’s…thank you? I mean, you are my friend. I just want things to turn out well for you.”
Hjorn sits on the bed. The corner of his perfect mouth comes up a little. “You are. Thank you. Now are you going to come over here and fuck me before Sylvie gets here or what? I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin from stress.”
“Oh absolutely,” I groan. I walk over to him and slide my hand up his robe. “Been wanting this all day.”
”You can have it.”
I pull the tie apart with my other hand. My mouth goes to his neck.
Hjorn whimpers and puts an arm around me. “Fuck, your hand…”
The robe falls open. I push him to the bed and kneel sprawled over his legs. His chest is a curved hill of barley, pale and dotted with freckles. I continue with his neck as I stroke him. His leg muscles tense and jump under me, and feeling his body squirm makes me so painfully hard.
“In me,” Hjorn begs with reedy gasps. “In me. Now.”
I have to detach myself from him to fumble for the lube under the pillow. I fumble to get myself out of my slacks. I fumble with the lid. It’s impossible to use lube without making a mess. I let the mess happen. I’m between his parted legs now. One finger goes in easily. The noise he makes sends goosebumps down my back. Hjorn fists the sheets. “More!”

I push in a second, but the third takes a moment. “You’re so taut today…you need to relax a little…”
“I can’t! I’m under so much goddamn stress it feels like I’ll never relax!”
“You poor thing. You’re gonna snap if you keep this up.”
“In!” he demands, louder and more angry. I love it. The fire in me is stoked white hot.
I guide myself inside him without giving him time to adjust. The sensation of him enveloped around me is exquisite. I bend over and return to tasting his neck. His thighs slam against my hips and I push past his point of resistance until my cock is against his prostate.
“Oh FUCK!” he roars. “Yeah just – there! Oh god, harder, do it harder!”
I obey him, thinking if I can just fuck him fast enough and deeply enough that for a moment he won’t be thinking of his modeling career or his life or that account he didn’t get. That maybe I can push all that stress up to the surface and it’ll be washed away when the orgasm breaks and the hormones flood. His body is wired tight, his nerves a tight bunch. He needs this, and not from anyone else but me.
I place one hand on the bed to steady myself, and the other curls around his cock. I’d forgotten about it. He moans my name and arches his back. “I’m close!”
Sometimes, when he says that, I like to stop and torment him a while with slow trusts and ghostly touches to his glans… but I think if I tried that today, he may actually murder me. I dig my toes into the floor and drive into him hard. “Take it!”
“FUCK!” he yells. We rut for an impossible moment until my lungs are burning and I’m sure he’s going to outlast me. “Fuck!” he wails again. Cum fouts all over his chest. He fists the sheets, pulling the flat out from where it’s tucked under the mattress. I heave breath against his shoulder as I empty inside him. All of it. The one place that the adoring public can’t see or get to. That spot is mine. It is marked.

Hjorn looks at me through half slit eyes but not really seeing me. His lips are so full and pink that I can’t help but kiss him. He lazily throws is arms over me and shares it. “Mnnn…” His knees fall to the side. My cock is too soft to stay in now and slides out. I rub it against where it’s been in him anyway. It’s warm and familiar and I don’t want to be far from it.
“Fuck…” Hjorn whispers.
I nuzzle his cheek. His scent is different. The acrid aura of stress is gone. I run my fingers over his chest. “You spilled all yourself out…”
Hjorn looks down, almost in surprise. “I did, didn’t I?”
“You did.” I rest down next to him to recover. I feel a bit dizzy.
Hjorn’s phone makes a noise. It’s been charging on the nightstand. He reaches for it. Fumbles it. Then holds it. “Sylvie wants to make sure I’m ready,” he groans. “She’s gonna be here in fifteen minutes.”
“She’s early,” I remarked.
Hjorn looks at his phone again. “…No, she’s actually running late.”
I look at my watch. “Jesus.”
That makes Hjorn laugh. It’s a beautiful sound. If bells could echo off wood, that’s what it would sound like. Soon I’m laughing too, just for the joy of seeing him smile. The furrow in his brow is gone too.

We get out of the shower just in time for Sylvie to walk through the door. She eyes me suspiciously as I help Hjorn with his belt as he works the buttons on his shirt. When she notices the hickie, she loses it, and I’m trying not to die of smothering laughter as she escorts him out, Hjorn waving off her concerns with a casual air of dismissal. God, that lad. Absolutely precious. He’s going to be famous one day.

I stay behind to recover and clean up the mess we hid under the duvet. Later that night, Hjorn calls me and tells me the director loved the hickie and kept it in the shoot, despite Sylvie’s objections. When the photos came out, we sure did have had a fun time reading the Instagram comments about them. Everyone thought they were from a woman.

____________________________________________________________________
Captions are fictional. Not intended to portray the original model or his identity.

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mytintinposts:

Mytintinposts

Maybe too queer, but still hot

“Jordy, it’s not too queer.”
“It is. I mean…we have both our hands over my penis.”
“…Jordy that was your idea.”
“I don’t know what I was thinking! I guess I just, like, let all my gayness cloud my judgement.”
“Jordy, honey have you eaten?”
“What?” he blinks.
“You’re getting manic, have you eaten honey?”
“…I ate a protein bar. And a latte.”
“Decaf?”
“…No.”
“Jordy, you need to eat real food.”
“How can I eat at a time like this!” he huffs, throwing his arms dramatically. “Why did I allow naked photos to be taken of us? They’re so…cheesy.”
I pick up the prints the photographer mailed us. “I think they’re sweet.”
“…Sweet?” Jordy repeats.
“Yes. I mean, look at us. It’s so clear. You are shy, scared to put yourself out there as you are – naked in both body and soul – for another man, but you clearly want to because you have puppy eyes for that man. Well, me, in this analogy. And the other man – me – is reaching out to say that being together doesn’t mean surrendering yourself entirely, it means learning to share yourself with someone because that can be wonderful and amazing and there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I love it. It conveys our relationship perfectly.”
“Oh my god.” Jordy replies softly, his voice still tinged with that dramatic, twinky tone of us. “You see that in this picture?”
“Yes, baby, I do. You are also damn fine, if I can say so.”
“Oh you can, you can,” Jordy cooes, reaching for me. I embrace him in a hug.
“Oh there there. It’s ok. I know it’s a little embarrassing putting yourself out there on film. I thank you for indulging me with pictures for anniversary. You don’t have to look at them again if you don’t want to.”
“….I don’t?” Jordy replies, pulling away and looking at me.
“Not if they make you that uncomfortable?”
“Well…I mean… when you put it that way…” Jordy shuffles through the photos on the coffee table. “Woah, this one has your penis in it! Ok, this one’s hot.”
I laugh. “Jordy. You can have my penis any time you want.”
“And I really appreciate that.
“But you don’t want to look at the ones of us together?”
“….Now you make me seem like an ungrateful diva bitch.”
“Well, if the shoe fits…”
“Uuughh I am such a virgo.”
“Jordy.”
Jordy crosses his arms and looks away. “I like them. I really do. It’s just weird to see a physical embodiment of the way you feel for someone.”
Suddenly he’s left me speechless. “Jordy…” I begin.
“But you’ll never get me to admit that again!” He grabs the naked photo of me and marches into the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
I watch him magnet it to the fridge and smirk. “To make dinner.”
“That photo of me is not staying on the fridge.”
“I’m making you lasagna. It will stay there for now, and then I’m taking it to work and putting it in my locker.”
“…Jordy I’m not sure the other firefighters will like that.”
“Rick has a naked photo of a porn star in his locker! You can see her lips. I want to play too.”

I give him a look. He still won’t say ‘vagina’. Sometimes, Jordy’s just impossible, so I decide I’m done bickering with him and let him make me dinner. We went out for dessert, then came back, made love, and went to sleep.
When I came home from work the next day, the intimate photo of us that caused Jordy to freak out was displayed on our bedroom dresser in a beautiful silver frame.

__________________
Text is fictional.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

captionstojerkby:

Afterwards, he takes his time putting himself back together. I don’t—mostly because it’s my apartment, and I can hang around it naked if I want to, letting my cum cool on my skin and enjoying the taste of his still on my lips, but also because that way he has to keep seeing me like this.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” I say, lying to him as he rebuttons the cuffs of his shirt and looks away. “I mean, it was just a one time thing." No it wasn’t. "It doesn’t mean you care about her any less." Yes it does. "It doesn’t have to change things between you two." It will. I smile at him reassuringly, falsely.

He looks up, smiles back.

Weakly.

Here’s a good post since I couldn’t post today.

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Henry was working on a metal sculpture for an upcoming exhibit when he got a text message from Emmett: Can I come over?
Henry texted back: Can it wait? I’m working.
Emmett replied at once: I need you, please.
Henry became alarmed: Can I call you? Do I need to call the cops?
Emmett: Please can I just come over?
Henry: Yes of course. He turned off the soldering machine and cleaned up his work area before taking a 3-minute shower. Emmett didn’t live far, maybe twenty minutes away.

Henry was drinking water in his kitchen when Emmett knocked. Henry rushed the door to say “hello” to his friend, but the sight of Emmett’s red, tear stained face took the words right out of his mouth.
“Oh Emmy, what happened?”

Emmett’s bottom lip trembled and he burst into fresh sobs. Henry embraced him, leading him into the house and closing the door behind them. “Oh Emmy, what happened? Shhh…sshh, it’s ok. I’m here now.” He took Emmet to the living room but his legs couldn’t seem to hold him up any longer; he leaned back against the window and sunk to the floor. Henry grabbed a box of tissues off the coffee table and sat across from him, legs crossed.
“There there…it’s alright. Tell me what’s wrong, Emmy?”
“It’s Tim,” he managed through a tight throat.
The hair went up on the back of Henry’s neck. “Did he hurt you?” he asked in a low, serious voice. “Cause if he did I’m going to wring his fucking neck.”

Emmett hiccuped and grabbed a tissue. “He won’t unlock me! He put the chastity device on about six weeks ago, but he has only fucked me once since. It’s becoming really uncomfortable, and itchy, but he won’t unlock me – he says to just take baths for cleanings and to be a ‘good boy’ and play with my toys. I need more than though! I need to be fucked, to be milked like that, and he won’t do it.” Emmett sniffled, his chest fluttering from his big cry.
Henry rubbed Emmett’s leg reassuringly. “Did you demand the key?”
“He won’t give it to me! About a week ago my balls really started to ache. It hurt so much I barely slept last night. Also, my left ball began to tingle and it’s almost numb right now.”
“Holy shit.”
“I begged Tim to open the lock, but he won’t! He doesn’t understand. He just thinks I’m whining and am trying to manipulate him so I can jack off.” Emmett balled his fists and banged them against the floor. “It hurts, Henry, it hurts so much! I can’t go to school or work like this!” Fresh tears began to fall. “Please, I need you to cut the lock, I know you have the tools.”

Henry’s eyes were dark with fury. “That bastard…how dare he fucking hurt you.”
“You can tell me ‘I was right’ if you want,” Emmett said in a soft, sad voice, “You knew he was mean from the start, but I was so enamored by how hot he was, I thought it’d be so sexy to be locked by him, it should have been you…”
“Heeeyy no, Emmett. It’s ok. It might have worked out, it might not have. In this case it didn’t. But you took a chance and now you know, and you’ll use that information to find yourself a better partner right? I won’t judge you for that.”
Emmett nodded, obviously miserable. He dropped a crumpled tissue on the floor with the rest, and plucked a new one out of the box.
“Stay here, I’m going to get the bolt cutters from my workshop.”

Henry first brought Emmett some fresh water to sip, then ran out to his workshop to find the tool. When Emmett saw them, his eyes went wide. “That won’t cut anything else right?”
“No, just metal. Come into the kitchen, sit on a chair.” Emmett held out his hands and Henry pulled him to his feet. He heard Emmett whimper. Henry got the boy situated; he was shirtless and wearing only some athletic shorts that came off easily enough. Their relationship was casual and he had seen Emmett naked before; they had grown up next door from each other. Henry’s mom needed to borrow a cup of sugar and that’s how they met. They had been inseparable, Emmett following Henry around like a puppy. Now adults, they had their own lives but never went more than a week without contact.

With a sharp bang, the lock snapped under the steel teeth of the bolt cutters. Emmett yelped.
“Shit, did I hurt you?” Henry’s eyes roved over his swollen cock, looking for blood.
Emmett looked sheepish. “No the loud noise just startled me.”
Henry chuckled. “Yeah it startled me a little too.” He put the bolt cutters on the table and pulled off the lock. “I’m gonna go slowly ok?” Emmett nodded; his cock was starting to harden at the contact. Henry delicately pulled the plastic sleeve off his cock. An unpleasant scent reached his nose and he crinkled it in response. Emmett smelled it too. “Oh god. Oh god is that..is that me?”
“Did Tim not clean you in six weeks?” he asked in disbelief.
“Just bath soaks… I tried with q-tips but it was so tight.” Emmett covered his face in shame.
“Honey you’re uncut. You can’t clean that just with a soak…” Henry felt a tear hit his wrist. “Oh god, I’m sorry Emmett. Don’t be embarrassed. This isn’t your fault. Henry pulled off the plastic pieces and put them in a small paper bag he found under the sink. He folded it over and set it aside, then returned to Henry’s cock and inspected it with his fingertips.
"Sweetie, I hate to tell you this, but there’s a sore on this side, and there’s a rash under your shaft. It might be a skin infection. You’re going to need to see a doctor.”

Emmett wiped tears off his face. “I feel so disgusting,” he said, feeling helpless.“
Henry brushed his cheeks with the back of his other hand. "Hey…it’s ok Emmy. I’m going to take care of you alright? I won’t hurt you, I promise.
Emmett looked at him with hope in his wet eyes.
"Do you have health insurance?” Henry asked.
“Yes, private.”
“Ok, we’re gonna need to call a urologist and make an appointment.”
“Can we shower first? Please? I can’t go in there with it smelling like this!

Henry agreed. He stood and got Emmett another tissue. "Let’s take a bath real quick.” He was relieved to see Emmett smile. They went upstairs together, and Henry filled the tub with warm water and a bit of vitamin E oil. By this point, Emmett’s cock was hard and deep red. “It hurts…” he said.
“We’ll take care of that.” Henry fetched the box of white gloves from the medicine cabinet, but when he saw the hurt look on Emmett’s face he put them down. Emmett looked relieved. Henry picked up the softest washcloth he had; he sat on a folded towel next to the tub and washed his friend with gentle lavender bath gel, saving his cock for last. He took great care in cleaning the sensitive skin, careful of the sore. He massaged Emmett’s numb testicle until he gasped and announced it was tingling. Pleased, Henry moved up to his cock. He took a deep breath and pulled back the foreskin. Both men cringed.
“I am going to murder Tim, I swear to god,” Henry muttered.
“I’d like to help.” Emmett agreed, folding his arms. “Ohh Henry that feels nice… that feels really nice.” His arms fell away at his sides and he rested his head on the back of the tub. “I wanna cum. Can I come?”
“Come as many times as you’d like.”
Emmett shot soon after, his seed shooting up like a fountain. They watched it splash into the water, making them both giggle. Henry was able to coax a second orgasm out of his friend, and by that time, Emmett looked like he was going to fall asleep.

Henry rinsed out the wash cloth and threw it into the sink. He pulled the drain on the tub and bundled Emmett into a fresh towel.

After some phone calls, they made an appointment at urologist for later in the afternoon. Just as Henry was starting to make lunch, the receptionist called back and said someone just canceled and if they wanted to come in early? Henry gave him some clean shorts to wear and got him into the car. Emmett commented how strange it was to not have the cage on; how light his cock felt and how sensitive it was. He spent the car ride plucking at the shorts.

The urologist listened to Emmett’s story with sympathy. He confirmed that the mottled spots on the underside of his cock were in fact a fungal infection. Emmett nearly died from shame and clung to Henry’s hand to keep from just going all emotional again. The doctor discovered the sore was an ingrown hair and subsequently drained it. He performed some more tests, including a much hated prostate exam, and by the end Emmett thought he’d never stop blushing.
“Now, you should not wear any sort of restrictive device on your penis for six weeks, including a condom. If you’re home, I suggest you stay nude, let it breathe. Wear loose fitting clothing, as I said, nothing tight or restricting,” the doctor instructed.
Emmett looked at Henry. “Around Tim? I don’t think-”
“You’re gonna stay with me,” Henry interrupted firmly. Emmett exhaled as the weight slid off his shoulders.

Both were quiet on the way home from the doctor and the pharmacist. As they pulled in the drive way, Emmett spoke up. “Is it wrong that I still want to explore chastity one day? I feel so perverted that I like the fetish so much, even now.”
Henry parked the car. “You’re a natural submissive, Emmett. You should never be ashamed of it. A proper chastity and keyholder relationship can be a wonderful thing.”
“I loved being horny the first week Tim locked me,” he admitted.
“A good keyholder takes care of his boy though and artfully uses that horniness to create wonderful, intense sexual experiences for both partners. You’ll find that one day, after you’re healed.”
“Would you be my keyholder, Henry?”
Henry unfastened his seatbelt and glanced over at Emmett. “I would love to take care of you, but I think you’re exhausted and upset and need to think about this more. Right now you’re just seeking me because I’m your friend and I’m the opposite of Tim. The doctor said you have six weeks of rest anyway, so let’s wait until then to talk about it ok? Plus, no more plastic. If you’re serious about chastity, we’ll look into metal.”
Emmett looked a little disappointed but nodded. “Metal? Really? Custom devices are always expensive.”
“But they’re better, easier to clean, and won’t hurt you. A good investment.”
Emmett thought. “How is it that you’re always right?”
“Not always,” Henry corrected. “Remember when I moved in and painted my bedroom pink by mistake?”
Emmett laughed. “It looked like a 7 year old princess lived there. God that was funny.”
Henry shook his head. “I was never so happy to see cream. Alright, let’s go in.”

Back in the kitchen, Henry made Emmett a grilled cheese sandwich and heated up a can of soup. After Emmett devoured both, he put him down for a nap sans apparel. As Henry was walking away, he felt a tug on his shirt. He looked over to see Emmett peering up at him from the blankets.
“Stay with me? Until I fall asleep?”
Henry sighed and gave in, climbing into bed and holding his friend until he finally surrendered his exhausted body to sleep. When he was sure Emmett was unconscious judging by his low breathing, Henry slipped out from the blankets and tucked Emmett in tight. Henry left him a glass of water on the nightstand, then went downstairs to grab his keys and put on his shoes. He also grabbed the paper bag on the way out.

Henry was going to go put the fear of God into Tim for hurting such a sweet, trusting, boy.

______________________________________________________
Text is fictional. This is male model Harry Bowen. This caption is not a speculation of his sexuality or attempted projection of his identity. Photographer is listed as Bryan Huynh.

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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.