Preparing a pup for chastity.
He seems excited about it. Cute pink balls definitely need their own attention.
Tag: male nudity
Today was a good day
Note: This somehow became a looong detailed story, so I’ll put a TL;DR summary at the end. =P
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You know, it’s been a while since I wrote something more extensive about how bf and I are progressing with our kink journey, so I thought it’d be time for a bit of an update. Especially because after our trip to London, my boyfriend has been more dominant and experimental than ever and today’s activities really show how we (but mostly my bf) seem to be taking certain things to the next level. I’ll explain…
My boyfriend told me that he wanted to give me a special day this Sunday, because we didn’t really got to celebrate my birthday yet. I thought he’d go for a night at the cinema or some shopping or dinner activities, but when he took his rubber suit on Saturday evening to wash and prepare it for the day after, I knew he was up to something different. Every time he had worn his rubber, resulted in some serious sub play for me. Clamps, foot worship, spanking and throatfucking are just a few examples…
So this morning, even before we got out of bed, he asked me if I wanted to play ‘the first game’. Apparently there were more to come and my mind went in overdrive trying to figure out what he had in store for me today. Of course I wanted to play – breakfast could wait – and he took his shiny rubber suit. I watched how he got dressed which was a tease on its own. Then bf took the handcuffs and the open gag which he both locked on me. With the chain collar and chastity I’ve been wearing relatively permanently the past week, I was now only wearing lockable gear which enhanced the sensation of utter submissiveness. He locked the cuffs behind my back before undoing the CB so I couldn’t touch myself. I quickly got hard, and it didn’t took him long to get me teased, frustrated and dripping. He made me hump some things, he spanked me fairly lightly and played a lot with my nipples, which got me moaning and drooling through my gag. Bf wasn’t focussing on my dick at all, until he came back from the bathroom with an object I mainly recognised from bf’s experimentation with sounding. My eyes widened and I moaned a bit in my gag. I never said sounding is a limit for me, but it definitely scares me as I couldn’t imagine it being comfortable, let alone enjoyable. Bf removed the gag and asked if I was ok with it. I hesitated, but I knew he would be sensible enough to not hurt me and to stop when I would ask him to. ‘Sure’, I said as I closed my eyes and laid back with my hands still cuffed behind my back. I tried to relax and focus on the sensation that was about to come. Bf took some lube and to my surprise I felt the tiny smooth plastic handle (I don’t know how to describe it otherwise) slide in without much friction. In my head I was telling myself it couldn’t be that bad, as people get catheterisations all the time without any analgetics, but it didn’t help much, haha. I didn’t dare to watch, but I was relieved there was not much pain on the initial entry. Bf asked if I was doing ok, reapplied lube, and started moving the thing up and down, slooowly going deeper. Or at least I think he went deeper, because I didn’t watch. At some point there was a bit of burning sensation which wasn’t that comfortable.. So I asked bf to stop and he did. When he tried again, I noticed how the first bit just feels a bit weird, but rather enjoyable. The pain only comes when he pushed further. We played for ten minutes before we decided it was enough for my first sounding experience. I got up and bf showed me how he took the object’s full 7 cm which was impressive actually… I asked bf how deep he was in when he sounded me, but he didn’t tell me. ‘It doesn’t matter how many centimeters you took, it’s about the sensation’, he said. He’s right, but I still wanna know. =P
Game one was over. Bf played some annoying music to get me soft (a new technique he uses XD), locked the CB back on and ordered me to make us some sandwiches for breakfast, which I happily did.Short after our breakfast he told me to stand in front of the bed if I was ready for part 2. Again I had no idea what to expect, but when he took the long nylon bondage rope I knew what he was up to. With the 15 meters of rope he tied an improvised body harness that fitted snugly around my chest. While tying the last knot he said: ‘I hope it’s secure enough, because we’ll be wearing our naughty suits under our clothing when we’ll be going out this afternoon.’ That was a surprise! I’ve been wearing naughty stuff under my clothes all the time (plugs, undies, chastity, collars and even a rope harness!) but I never expected my bf to be daring enough to wear his rubber in public, even when it’s hidden.
So, about fifteen minutes later we headed out to the bus. Bf with his rubber under his clothes and me with my rope harness, chastity and fairly visible chain collar. The harness was exactly uncomfortable enough to be a constant reminder of our kinky secret. I also liked to stroke bf’s chest and legs through his clothes. I was leaking in my pants just from the experience. We spend a few hours in the city centre eating some cake, drinking tea and shopping a bit before heading back home. I held my pee as long as I could because I was afraid it’d burn like hell after the sounding experiment, but after drinking some tea I couldn’t hold it… and thank god I didn’t feel a thing! XDBack home we had dinner while still wearing rope and rubber under our clothes. We talked about kinks and mainly pup play. One of the subjects was pup names. Bf already came up with a few names last week which weren’t really my taste (Arak or Zeus for example) and he wasn’t enthusiastic about my names either (Chase or Pepper for example) so we were somewhat on a dead end. Then out of nowhere bf came up with another name: Nobly. I liked it! It sounds happy, it’s unique, it’s short and cute, plus bf thinks nobility fits me. Out of the name list we had I think Nobly is the name we like best together. Soooo it’s kinda official now! ^^ I love how my boyfriend still does his best to give pup play a chance, because he sees how much it means to me (and other pups) and how happy it makes us. I told him he shouldn’t force himself outside of his comfort zone, but the fact he came up with a pup name really is a small step in the right direction and I can’t describe how much I appreciate that in him. =)
Anyhow, after this intermezzo, it already was late in the evening. Bf planned a round three for me, so he ordered me to take a shower and lay on the bed naked. (Which for me means: Just wearing my CB and chain collar.) Bf untied the ropes, grinned at the mark patterns it caused on my chest and back and sent me to the bathroom. Half an hour later I laid down on the bed, when bf entered the room in his rubber. He climbed on top of me, reached down in my night stand and took out the magic wand with a big smirk on his face. ‘Guess who’s not going to come?!’ He waved the magic wand triumphantly around my CB. He gave my nipples – which were incredibly sensitive today – some attention and slowly worked the vibrator down to my straining cock. Every time he got the wand on the cage my cock fought against his plastic confinement, crying drops of precum. After fifteen minutes of edging and teasing bf gave me an offer. ‘Either you stay locked, but I’ll let you cum by the magic wand. Or I’ll take off the CB and you won’t be allowed to cum.’ It was a tough decision. I’ve had in cage orgasms before, which are always kinda unsatisfying. Plus I imagine my boyfriend could easily make it a ruined one by removing the wand on the moment supreme. On the other hand, he rarely had the self control to not let me cum, as he likes it too much seeing me squirm and scream during an orgasm after a lot of teasing. He might fail again, so I decided to go for unlocking without the permission to cum.
So, bf unlocked me and put the vibrator on the exact right spot, driving me to the edge in no time. Fortunately bf knows how to read and interpret my moaning and breathing, so he perfectly knows when to stop which made this edging session one of the most intense I’ve ever had. Stroking, palming, vibrating.. for at least half an hour the stimulation just kept going and going. My boyfriend only stopped for a few seconds every time I gasped for air, which is my body’s sign an orgasm is coming verrrry quickly. Stop and go, stop and go… with just seconds rest in between I became a horny, moaning mess in no time. There were a few times I even regretted my decision and wished for an in cage orgasm, especially when bf got me do close he could edge me using just one finger that lightly and slowly went up and down. Our neighbours must’ve enjoyed the vocals bf was able to get out of me. Apparently my moaning turned bf on as well, because he started to use the magic wand on himself while jerking me off and vice versa. Fuck that was hot. I couldn’t think straight anymore, but I remember I was hoping bf would get so lost in his masturbation, that he’d accidentally cause me to have an orgasm. But no. He came and I didn’t. Just as he planned. He let me lap up the mess from his belly before we cuddled each other. ‘You might get another chance next week’, he said. I sighed and gave him my puppy eyes look… like I really regretted choosing not to cum. But deep down I know I made the best choice. I looove this and it makes me realize I’m the luckiest boy on earth being able to experience this with someone who I can call my Master aaaand my boyfriend.———————-
Too long to read? Here’s a quick summary:
Bf is in a very dominant mood lately. I’ve been wearing my CB and chain collar constantly. This morning I got my first sounding experience, which wasn’t bad at all. We went out in public wearing rubber (bf) and a rope harness (me) under our clothes this afternoon. We decided that my pup name will be Nobly! *wooff* This night bf edged the heck out of me, without letting me cum and he locked me back up for another week.
I’m just so happy that gayboykink has found someone long-term to go on a kink journey with, and that each boy in the relationship is taking the other a step further. If living vicariously through the happiest loving couple in the Netherlands is wrong, I don’t want to be right.
Konstantin Kamynin
Newest member of THE 1,000 CLUB
Sometimes my friends ask me…how did I know I was gay? That’s a good question. I didn’t really know myself until I was 16. My aunt ran this taco restaurant in Palm Springs, and she got me a job bussing. Paid me under the table. One spring she kept talking about something called a Circuit Party. I thought it was some nerd, tech hang-out. You can’t imagine the shock I felt when I came into work one day, and every man looked like they walked out of an underwear shoot. And some had! My jaw about hit the floor.
My aunt wouldn’t let me leave because they were so busy, so I had to go through the entire night with my boner tucked under my waistband. There was one man though, this foreign guy… he noticed me. A lot. I swear to god, he was flirting with me. He tipped me huge amounts, flashed his buttcheeks at me. I’m sure he thought it was hilarious for him to rifle up some awe-struck teenager bussing glasses in a taco restaurant. I was sure at that time he never thought of me again.
But I thought of him. I got his name from one of the patrons, and of course I Googled him the second I got home. I Googled him a lot. I bought his calendar. I was in love with him for years, until I got my first boyfriend.
No one believes me when I tell them that the Adonis that is Konstantin Kamynin made me realize I was gay. But it’s true. I swear. You know how I know it’s true? I went to his book signing in Los Angeles when I was a freshman in college, and you’d never believe this – but when I told him where I’d seen him before, he remembered. He asked me what I did with the tip money. I told him I used it to buy his calendar, and he laughed. True story. It was a pretty good book too.
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Actually it’s not really a true story, lol. The text is fictional, and Konstantin’s body is unreal. I don’t think he ever put out a book either. Here’s his website.
Todd relaxes on the couch in his bedroom and gazes out the window. He came right home from practice and stripped down. He had settled in for his post-school wank before his parents got home, but his mind would not settle on a female fantasy. There were lots, and they usually did the trick alright…but it wasn’t working today. Todd’s mind kept drifting to the way Coach Mack had patted him on the butt after practice, gave him just the tiniest of squeezes, and said, “Good work out there today, kid.”
The words had made pride flourish in his chest. Todd’s father was a perfectionist and not one to dispense praise merely for effort, only for taking top prize. It made him feel good to know Coach recognized him… but that grab, that squeeze. It had sent a zing right to his balls. He’d never felt anything like that before! He began to stroke himself as he imagined Coach squeezing his ass. With a sigh of surrender, Todd relented and let his mind wander to a forbidden place. A taboo place. He had denied to himself that he wanted to look at it, but he was 99.999% sure Coach Mack did not wear underwear and it was noticeable. Behind his eyelids, Todd could easily picture Coach’s goods moving around in his athletic shorts like he’d seen a hundred times, his balls shifting with every step. God, why was that making his dick so hard? Todd didn’t get it. He was straight.
He’d seen other guys naked in the locker room before, and he’d seen their dicks, but it hadn’t excited him like this. Todd sped up his pace as he masturbated. He created a new fantasy that he’d seen Coach Mack’s balls fall out and Coach had let him stuff them back up. Soon his mind was reeling, exploring scenarios about touching in the shower, kissing, cupping-
and then the world went white. Sounds of flesh pumping flesh were muted by blood pounding his ears. “Fuck fuck fuck FUCK!” Todd gasped like a fish out of water as a huge orgasm ripped through him. His toes curled, his legs cramped. Jizz splashed everywhere, up his torso, his collarbone, hell there were flecks on his cheek! His vision went a bit spotty for a moment too. He felt sore, like he’d been tossed by a wave.
He crested downward on a slide glide, still playing with himself. Wow! he thought, panting. What the hell was that??
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Text is fictional.
The tender moments of submission.
Andrew gazes fondly over his prize, stroking the boy’s chestnut hair. Oliver’s not yet awake, as the drugs haven’t worn off. Andrew knows when Oliver comes to, he might be scared and flail so he keeps the ropes on for the boy’s own safety. Andrew knows once Oliver sees his face, everything will be alright. He smiles, satisfied. The deep hit to his bank account was worth it. Every penny as valuable as gold to him. He knew he was taking a huge risk hiring that shady man to kidnap his boy and steal him away, but Andrew could not bear another day knowing his boy was out of his grasp.
They had been lovers once, but when they were in college. But Oliver’s father had crippling gambling debts, and jealous of his beautiful face, sold his own son to pay off his loansharks. Andrew could not afford the cost, and could only watch helplessly as his lover was ripped from his arms and taken away. The private investigator he hired tracked Oliver to a slave work farm in upstate New York
Andrew saved for two years to acquire enough money to afford the kidnapper. It was only after Andrew received a small inheritance after the death of a grandparent was he able to hire the man. He was nearly broke now, but he would live in a barn with Oliver if he had to. The debt had been paid by the slavetraders. Andrew made a silent promise to Oliver that he would always be free, and he would always be safe. He would always be protected, and loved, because Oliver had always been – and would forever be – his beloved boy. No one would take what belonged to him ever again.
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Text is fictional.
Waiting for Sir is the worst.
Even more so when he’s late. He promised me he’d get off work early, and we’d go to the Valentines Day party your local kink scene is hosting. Who’d ever heard of a Master working on Saturday morning? Only mine, it seems; there’s always some crisis demanding his attention in the office. Does he love the office more than me? I start to wonder. It’s Valentine’s Day for god’s sake. My mind drifts back to this morning when he rolled over and gave me a plain, stiff fucking – just like any other morning. I was really hoping for something romantic other than an utterance “Happy Valentine’s Day, boy.” Did he really not care at all? I had withheld my gift for him because of that.
Then, I hear it. A car pulls into the driveway. I lift my head, then tilt it. The engine’s cut. A car door shuts. Then the trunk. I’m up on all fours now, wagging my butt even though the tailplug isn’t in cause it’s drying in the bathroom. Habits. I pace back and forth in front of the door until it swings open.
And there’s my Master, holding a big bouquet of flowers and a paperbag. I was so astonished I forgot to bark. My Master smiles.
“What? No greeting?”
I lose it. Full barking mode on! Complete with paws up on his thighs,and butt wiggling. Master grins at me, and sets down the paper bag so he can scritch me and cuff me behind the ears. “That’s a good boy, thatta boy!”
I roll over and offer my belly, and he gives a rub.
“Good boy. You didn’t think I forgot would you? I lied about having to go into work today. Truthfully, I bought most of this yesterday, I was just an idiot and left it in an office drawer.”
My disappointment melts away. Of course, he didn’t forget to get me something. I butt my head against his leg. Master kneels down and offers me the bloom end of the flowers. I stick my face in there and inhale, nuzzling the velvety petals with my nose. The perfume is fresh. After I dry them, I’ll make sachets out of them. I pause, blink, and then sneeze. Master chuckles.
“I’ll go put these in water. Here, here’s one of your presents.”
He takes a small box out of the paperbag, then begins to open it. I watch eagerly. It smells like chocolate. I fucking love chocolate. He presents it; in his hand in one of those chocolate orange things, wrapped in foil. An edible, scrumptious-smelling toy ball. I bounce on my paws and bark at it. He grins and puts it on the wooden floor, then pushes it so it rolls. I go mental and chase after it, batting it with my paw as I go.
He watches me for a moment, before going into the kitchen. I wait for a few moments, distracted with my toy, before I get his gift. I hear him get himself pour a cup of water and figure it’s good timing. I trot in, carrying a red paperbag in my mouth.
My Master looks pleased. “Whatchoo got there boy? Is that for me?”
“Ruff ruff!” I reply although it’s muffled.
He strides over to me and takes it out of my mouth. After beating the staples, he peers inside to see those Japanese gummy candies he likes so much, plus some heart hard candies, heart post-it notes (for the damn office), and strawberry lube. A smile lights up his face. “I love it. Exactly what I wanted.” He kisses my forehead. “Thank you boy.”
I lick him back.
He goes to find my orange ball again, and rolls it with his shoe. I chase it all over the house in a tizzy, until it hits a wall, cracks, and then I feast on its sacchrine insides. After, I make a point of crawling into my Master’s lap and licking his face. He isn’t able to resist kissing me, knowing I smell and taste delicious.
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Text is fictional. Source was deactivated, so no idea.
Sometimes he comes to me, pouting, arms out, needing comfort. I don’t always ask, just sometimes he feels these pangs of self doubt that he can’t handle the big scary world out there, and then he comes running to me for a hug. He’s kind of a big puppy. Scared of his own shadow. Take a submissive bottom boy, drop it down three levels, and you’ll find him.
“There, there,” I say, pulling him against me, one hand curved around his side. “I’m here.” I will usually push down his underwear a little – he doesn’t wear much clothing around the house – and give his ass a reaffirming squeeze.
I always start with his ass. It’s where I make love to him and claim him. It’s the heart of his sexuality – not his cock. His cock is secondary. He needs to know that I’m not tired of him, that I still find him hot and sexy, and giving that soft bubbly butt a big squeeze confirms that I still think about sinking my teeth into it every time I see it. I run my palm up the sweeping curve of his spin, murmuring comments in his ear about how silky his skin is, how floral his scent. I keep him close to me, always reassuring him with both hands.
He presses his soft cock against my leg and buries his face in my neck. “Are you sure you really want me? And not some skinny, muscular twink?”
I scoff. “Are you crazy? I have you! I love you and your body, every supple piece of it. I like you a bit tender and soft, because it makes you a delight to cuddle with. Ever cuddle with a guy whose bodyfat is 1%? It’s like cuddling with a surfboard.”
This makes him giggle, and I know he’s just bluffing. He just wants the praise. I reach back down and massage one globe of his buttocks with one hand. He moans against my shirt collar.
“I love men,” I clarify, “When I see you, I see an embodiment of every male characteristic I like, and I want. Your adorable personality is the cherry on top.”
“Even though my cock is small?” he asks, unsure.
“You have a cock. That’s my requirement. And even though it might be small, it’s still a good toy.” I drop my voice to a husky purr and whisper in his ear. “There’s plenty there to touch…and stroke…and edge… you have a fat cockhead and you love it when I rub that sensitive skin with my fingertips don’t you?”
He shudders against me. “Oh Papi,” he says with a sigh. “You really know how to make a boy feel special.”
I kiss his ear. “That’s cause you are. You are my boy.”
“Mm I love being your boy. Squeeze my ass again?”
I do so.
“Mmnnn~” he coos. “I love feeling your strong hands on me. Makes me feel so safe.”
“Why don’t we go into the bedroom and I squeeze you all over, work your body inside and out?”
“A massage?”
“Yes, boy.”
He smiles at me. “Because I am your special boy?”
“Because I love you, and I like doing things for the boy I love.” I kiss him.
He pushes back and I gift him with more kisses. I give, he takes, until his lips are puffy and tingling.
“Woah, Papi,” he breathes.
I grin. “That’s the lip massage. Come on.” I take a handful of his ass again. “Let’s go upstairs and do the rest of you.”
He follows me up the stairs, fingers squeezing mine.
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Text is fictional. This is Topher DiMaggio fucking Paddy O’Brian.
Your slave boy was pulling the delicate laundry hanging to dry on the balcony. You were watching him though, the way the sun rays and shadows were playing off your boy’s nude body. The morning urge came out of hiding easily. You pinned him against the railing and took what you wanted from him, with your mouth and your cock. It doesn’t matter how humiliated he might have felt, being fucked with all those people milling about publicly below. It was up to him to be quiet and focus on pleasing his Master. It was your loud grunt when you came in him though that got some people to look up. You could feel your boy blush all over, but he kept his eyes ahead. It was not his job to question if his Master wanted the neighborhood to know he was owned slavemeat. When it was over, he thanked his Master for the sex, and continued on with the laundry, hole dripping until his Man plugged him.
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Text is fictional.
Mikhail posed for a portrait showcasing his two favorite things in the world – his family’s old summer dacha and his beloved pet faggot of ten years. He loved to bring the boy out here to the wilds outside of St. Petersburg and live nude and unencumbered by work or societal standards. Mikhail wanted a good photo to commemorate his life happy before he got old and out of shape. He had to wear shorts of course, so he could show it to people that didn’t follow his particular lifestyle.
While the photographer was messing with the light meter or something, the faggot noticed the tempting out-line of Mikhail’s cock in his shorts. It was pronounced, half erect, as Mikhail was excited by fresh air and the promise of vacation after being stuck in a car for hours. The boy’s instincts took over. It needed attention, so he gave it. He began to mouth the shape through the khaki fabric, ignoring Mikhail chiding him and squeezing the back of his neck. He muttered, “Not now, boy,” but the tone of his voice didn’t match the words.
The photographer got himself together and said, “Ok, smile!” but the faggot was no longer paying attention or taking orders from anyone that wasn’t his man. He was lost in playing with the throbbing cock he found hidden up Mikhail’s shorts. Mikhail shrugged and indicated for the photographer to take the picture. It was a more accurate representation of their relationship anyway.
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Text is fictional.
Johnny pauses in reflection before the next client arrives. He’s still sore from morning yoga, and his first client really liked to spank him while riding him. Three more to go. Today’s busy. Johnny knows he’s gonna have to use the Viagra later. He doesn’t really want to, but his clients like when he’s horny. Johnny suspects it makes them feel less dirty, less perverted, to be fucking a boy who is turned on. He’s sure that all his clients believe him to be a horny slut that badly needs to be fucked by several guys in order to feel sane. He also has an inkling it goes hand in hand with his “bad boy” image, with the tattoos and piercings and cocky attitude. Johnny still loves it when a man stops dead in their tracks when he drops the towel. He designed his body to be a piece of art. Hell, Johnny advertised his services by “inviting” potential buyers to an “interactive art exhibit” on m4m backpages. His inbox is never empty.
Johnny checks his bank account balance on his phone. He almost has enough. Being so close to his goal has been making him kind of crazy. He’d been selling himself for over a year now for quick money, watching in frustration as his balance went up and down with rent and bills. So close. Johnny drifts off for a moment, fantasizing about the moment when he breaks the news to his best friend Saul that he can now afford reconstructive surgery to fix his burned face and hands. Insurance didn’t cover cosmetic procedures, and university bills drained Saul dry. Johnny missed going out with his friend, who didn’t leave the house except to go to class. He lived off disability, like a hermit. Johnny felt so helpless after his friend was injured in that apartment fire, so angry at his neighbor for smoking next to an oxygen tank. This was his way of righting a wrong.
Maybe it was also something else, for Johnny had a crush on Saul since he was 16. He has a feeling Saul wouldn’t want him, not after he’d whored himself out like this, but for Johnny it would be enough just to make Saul smile. He’s a selfless boy. Well, not entirely. After he got Saul taken care of, Johnny plans to get right back to whoring. He wants to take a trip to Bali and hit the waves. Maybe Saul would come with him. Yeah, that’d be great.
A knock on the door brings Johnny back to present. He grabs a bathrobe off the chair. “Coming~” he calls as he rises off the bed. One more client, one step closer. Hey, this one is hot at least.
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Text is fictional. This is Stephen James.