Ryan stood under the cold spray of the outdoor shower and thought. The shock of the water temperature on this summer day mixed with the post-nut clarity lead him to feeling ashamed of himself. Ryan, seriously – you let the farrier fuck you? That guy? He’s old enough to be your dad almost. And he’s not even that hot. That was a bit slutty of you. You don’t need to be laid that badly do you? Ryan ran his hands over his face. Do I? It was two weeks since the last one, when I hooked up with that Grindr guy passing through town. Usually I can last a month. Maybe it’s cause it’s hot and everyone’s shirtless. Ryan was not convincing himself. Mostly because it felt pretty good to get laid, and Ryan knew he needed more of it. He could not deny that.
Ryan turned off the water and shook off the droplets. It would be another six weeks before the farrier came back to the ranch. Is this going to become a steady thing? Ryan wondered. He liked the idea of having a steady fuck, even if it was the farrier. Six weeks was still a long time to be considered “steady” in most places, but out here in the middle of nowhere that was still considered pretty lucky.
Ryan sighed and toweled off his muscles. God, if he could get laid once a week – maybe twice a week! – that would be heaven.Ryan glanced up and realized his horse Marcy was staring at him on the other side of the fence. She’d not seen him naked before. Ryan pointed a finger at her. “Don’t get any ideas. Also, can you go find me a prince? Thanks.” She snorted and walked off. Ryan sighed. He needed a man. In the old days you could just place an ad in the paper for a “country husband”. “Country slut needs gay ranchhand” would not work. Ryan was gonna have to get creative. Now he’d been freshly fucked, all he was gonna think about for a while was getting his next dick. This was a problem that could not be solved by a trip to the feed store.
_________________________ Captions are fictional.
Ryan rested in the saddle and gazed around the empty pasture being swallowed by darkness. All the horses had been brought in for the night, but Marcy was nowhere to be found. Usually when he brought them in, she would linger and headbutt Ryan for a treat in case he had a sugar cube or peppermint candy in his pocket. But she wasn’t there. Ryan was concerned enough that he borrowed Judd’s horse that was still saddled and rode out into the pasture to sweep the corners and check for breaks in the fence. Ryan was dreading finding a dark, motionless shape on the ground, but so far, nothing. It was a relief, but Ryan was baffled by her absence. How did she get out? Sure she could jump the fence, but Marcy was a particularly stubborn and lazy horse. If she jumped the fence, something would have startled the entire pack and they would have all bolted in a panic. Someone Ryan worked with would have noticed the commotion.
Ryan took off his hat, rubbed his forehead with his dusty sleeve, and put his hat back on. He sighed. The shame and regret from letting the farrier fuck him earlier was sinking in deep now; it was uncomfortable being on the saddle. He wanted a hot plate and a hot meal – and a soft, comfy sofa. Plus it was near dark now with the sun down and the bugs were out. Ryan swatted a mosquitos on his neck. “Goddammit.” He guided Judd’s horse to walk the fence line that ran parallel with the road. He swept a flashlight over the fence as he followed it for a couple minutes.
A truck was approaching, so Ryan lowered the flashlight beam. It was one of those LED things that had the power of the sun. The truck put on its hazards and pulled over anyway. Ryan didn’t recognize the truck or the young man driving it, which was surprising. A lost traveler maybe? “Can I help you?” Ryan drawled. “Are you missing a horse by chance?” Ryan tilted his head. “Matter of fact I am. A mare, a sorrel with a blaze.” “Well she’s on our porch,” the young man said. He looked amused by the whole thing. “Your porch?” Ryan repeated. “I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you?” The young man waved. “Carter Whitehouse. I’m Bill and Margie’s grandson. I was working on a ranch near Yellowstone for a bit, but I just moved out here to help them on the farm and renovate the house since Grandpa Bill’s been sick.” Ryan held his breath in his chest. He wasn’t a religious man, but god if there was a chance – any chance at all, that Carter would be up for kissing another man- Ryan wanted to take that chance. He cleared his throat. “Well that was mighty nice of you. They’ve been over asking for help a bit, I’m glad they have you to rely on now. My name’s Ryan Dumont, my dad and I run this place.” He jerked his thumb to his left. “Pleasure to meet you.” Carter was studying Ryan. His grandparents talked a lot about the Dumonts. They were old fashioned, and although they appreciated the Dumonts as neighbors, they had made comments about “the homosexual” who lived there. Carter really hoped that was who they were talking about. Because Jesus Christ, the Marlboro Man could have passed the torched to him.
Ryan cleared his throat again. “Well. I better go get my mysteriously vanishing horse off your property.” He instructed Carter to drive onto his property and meet him at their barn, where Ryan would drop off Judd’s horse. They would ride back to Carter’s, and Ryan would ride Marcy bareback home.
The conversation in the car was brief, as the trip was three miles down the road. Sure enough, Marcy was hanging out in the Whitehouse’s front lawn, eating the grass, tied to the fence. Ryan couldn’t help but chuckle. “You silly girl, how did you get over here?” She whinnied at the sight of him. Ryan stroked her nose and she headbutted him in the shoulder. “Young lady, you don’t get a treat, you misbehaved today.” She flickered her ears at him. “Don’t get sassy with me.” “She doesn’t seem sassy. She seems to be a real nice girl,” Carter said as he walked up. “She is. Normally. She’s never jumped the fence before. I don’t know what got into her.”
“Well you know how it is with some horses, it could be the shadow of a cloud for all we know.” That made Ryan laugh. He liked Carter’s sense of humor.
Ryan agreed to have the Whitehouses over for dinner soon, untied Marcy, and reluctantly bid Carter goodbye. He climbed the fence to get on Marcy’s back, and then steered her down the driveway and to the house with a borrowed bridle.
As he walked the miles in the dark, lit only by moonlight, Ryan had time to reflect on what had just happened. He still couldn’t explain it. He was also distracted by the soreness in his rear end. Stupid farrier with a great dick, he muttered to himself. Back at the stable, Ryan ran the whole story by Judd. Judd put his hands on his hips and thought. “It sounds like she wasn’t escaping something, but going after something she wanted on their property if you ask me. Another horse maybe? They bought two of your dad’s horses right?” “Yeah, they did-” Ryan’s thought trail was interrupted by a moment of clarity. Wait, hadn’t he told Marcy to go find him a prince earlier? He looked at Marcy, who returned the gaze innocently from her stall. There was no way. “Yeah, I’m sure she recognized their scents or something,” Ryan said quickly. “Come on, let’s finish up here. I’m starving.” “Yeah me too. Come on, follow me with the blankets here.” “Sure, coming, one sec.” Before Ryan did, he slipped Marcy a peppermint candy he had in his pocket. He patted her nose. “Good girl,” Ryan whispered. He could not wait to have the Whitehouses over for dinner.
_______________ Captions are fictional. Someone here reblogged or liked one of my older stories, so I decided to write a sequel.
Ryan turned off the light and rolled over. He threw the comforter over himself and snuggled into the queen sized bed. Quiet. Crickets. “Oh fuck it,” he grumbled. Like there was any reason for pretending he wasn’t going to be masturbating tonight. His dreams were going to be full of Carter anyway, might as make the most of it. He pushed the comforter back and shimmied out of his boxer shorts. They were already ripped and he cursed as he tore the hole bigger. Ryan dropped them on the floor and fumbled in the side drawer for lube, then settled back into bed. Yeah this was definitely happening. His cock was already waking up. Ryan put some lubrication in his palm and curled his fingers around his shaft. He was going to have to use his imagination for most of this, because up to this point he’d only seen Carter in a tee shirt and jeans. The shirt was appropriately tight enough to outline muscles, but there was no pecs, no nipples, no trail of hair revealed. Same with his Levi’s, which had been creased, and held the round shape of Carter’s ass like a display piece, but gave no indication that what he was packing was anything other than average. Which was fine, really, cause cock was cock regardless. Ryan imagined he’d be a grower more than a shower, which was also fine, cause that gave him a lot to discover and play with.
Ryan’s thoughts drifted to the dinner they’d just had. Carter had shown up freshly showered, in a widebrim hat and oiled cowboy boots. He’d brought a case of beer, which was well received. He was polite and a gentleman, helping Ryan’s mom set the table and serve the food. Compliments about the steaks came freely. He even helped wash up and clean the table. She was fawning all over Carter, and Ryan was still mad at himself that he got jealous over that.
But he was happy when Carter’s grandparents went home after coffee, but Carter stayed. Ryan and Carter had sat on the screened in porch together, talking about ranch work, the weather, the horses, Yellowstone, Marcy the disappearing horse- nearly anything. Ryan found it hard not to stare at Carter. He had a square jaw and soft lips, wavy brown hair, and grey eyes. Who had grey eyes? They were the color of a dove’s wing. Then there were his hands, square fingered, veins up his forearm. A scar on his left finger. Ryan groaned, imagining those hands taking a hold of him and stroking with all their strength. He needed to feel that. But he was getting a head of himself in his dreams. He imagined when Carter set his mug down and stood up to go, that he began unbuttoning his shift and saying something like, “I think we both know the real reason I’m over here…” And Ryan would protest, because for some reason, he always had to spend a good thirty seconds convincing no one he wasn’t a slut. But Carter’s eyes would turn to hard steel and he’d say, “Are you telling me you’re not giving me that ass?” Because of course a soft sweet-hearted boy like that would have a tone he used only in very certain situations. And it would probably be the same time Carter would take his belt off and hold it in his hands in suggestive ways – and Ryan would cave in.
Carter would tell Ryan he was taking too long, and “help him” unbutton his pants. They would be kissing by this point, and it was obvious it was getting out of control. Ryan would be afraid his parents were still awake upstairs and came downstairs and catch them. But there was no stopping this.
In bed, Ryan groaned and thrusted into his fist. Carter would make Ryan put his hands on the railing, ass out. The lube was a problem, because in sudden sex situations he’d heard of people using spit, but Ryan thought that was 100% gross. He could run back into the kitchen for oil, but that broke the mood and also run the risk of being caught in cause his mom was getting water or something. So Ryan just decided in this fantasy that Carter brought lube with him, because he’d planned on fucking Ryan all along. Yeah, that worked.
“Fuck me,” Ryan muttered to himself as he sunk deeper into his fantasy. Carter’s cock would look perfect of course, jutting out of a trimmed brown hair. It wouldn’t look like too impossible to take, but it would definitely be the kind of cock that feels bigger than it actually is. Carter would know what he was doing, he’d slide a couple fingers in to stretch, but he’d give his cock to Ryan as soon as he could. It would be tight and it would be tender, but Carter would tell Ryan he wanted it and he could take it. And Ryan would take it. And it would feel amazing. It would stretch him to the hilt.
Carter would lean over and say some dirty things in his ears. He’d give a couple thrusts for consideration, then shift into pounding Ryan against the railing. Maybe he’d say something like: “Let’s see how strong your grandfather built this porch railing,” before nailing Ryan against it. He would be real worried about their parents hearing them now, but Carter wouldn’t care.
In his bed, Ryan was sweating. Even at night, the air held its summer heat and the ancient AC struggled on the upper floors in this house. The insulation needed to be redone too. “Fuck,” he grunted. Imagining Carter’s balls hitting his own was making him go crazy. “Yeah breed me…fuck me…god…”
The orgasm was a blinding, fuzzy mess as Ryan pictured Carter nailing him in a rapid staccato rhythm as he exploded all over the porch, breeding him like a stud horse. Ryan’s hips came off the bed. He bit his lip and drew blood; a wheeze escaped his lips. Cum splattered on his hips and chest.
The fantasy wavered in and out of focus. At some point, Carter would slip out, wipe himself on Ryan’s shirt, and then just zip himself back up. “Thank you for having me for dinner,” he’d say in a drawl – although Carter didn’t have much of a Southern drawl, it sure worked in this instance. And Ryan would be left on the porch dripping and with a used hole, catching his breath as Carter put his belt back on. Carter would enjoy the sight of a fresh conquest.
“Jesus christ,” Ryan muttered to himself. His fist cramped and he left his softening shaft rest on his hip so he could shake out the pain. This is super bad. I need him to fuck me, or it is going to be a very very difficult with him living next door. As Ryan laid there in his haze, he thought back over dinner and tried to determine if there was any clue Carter was gay.
There was that glance, a drop of tension, when they were having coffee on the porch – but maybe it was just them bonding as friends? Well, that also wasn’t good. When was the last time he made a new friend his age? Judd was ten years older; they were friends and went on hunting trips with other guys, but Judd was also busy raising his niece.
Fucking hell. He needed to figure out if Carter was gay. Which he probably wasn’t. If Carter wasn’t gay he wasn’t ever getting fucked. But if he was straight, he could salvage this. There was a real shortage of available women out here; and a horny straight man could be convinced to jerk off another guy with his eyes closed if he was desperate enough. Ryan hung his hat on that hope.
Ryan stared at the ceiling. “Oh my god, I’m so pathetic.” He glanced at his wet hand. Either one of three things would happen. One is that he was going to have to buy more tissues next time they went to Wal-mart. The other was that the horses would keep mysteriously having shoe issues that would result in a premature call to the farrier. Or, Ryan’s fantasies would come true. The odds didn’t seem particularly in his favor for the last one. Maybe it was time to get religious and start praying.
With a sigh, Ryan got up to go clean himself off before he dozed off.
Carter was in his dreams. And he was naked, at distance, without a clue he was being watched. Ryan had stumbled upon him bathing in the creek while looking for Marcy who had vanished again. But anytime Ryan tried to get a glance, Marcy got in his way and blocked the view. Ryan woke up the next morning, cursing that damn horse.
___________________ Captions are fictional. Part threeee.
John was staying overnight at Ryan’s house. It belonged to Ryan’s parents, but Ryan and his younger brother Matt rented it from them together as they attended the same college nearby, two years apart. John headed downstairs to get a glass of water for bed when he discovered he wasn’t the only one awake. Matt was shirtless on the sofa, hand in his sweatpants. From his vantage point on the stairs, John recognized the Sean Cody porn playing on Matt’s laptop. Ryan had mentioned his younger brother was gay, but wow! Bold! He wasn’t even using headphones.
“Ah fuck!” Matt yelped. He slammed the laptop shut and covered himself with a pillow. “Sorry, sorry! I just came down for water,” John held his hands up and glanced away. “I didn’t realize you were still awake. Fuck. God, I’m so embarrassed.” “Don’t be. I’ve jerked off to the same shit.” Matt stared at John and watched him walk into the kitchen. “So you are gay. I’ve always suspected.” “Suspected? I gave gay voice, can’t you tell?” “I can tell, but barely.” John took a glass out of the cupboard. “Then you should have guessed.” Matt had his gaze fixated on John. “Does that mean we can fool around? I’m so goddamny horny. I was texting with this guy I met on campus tonight, but he ghosted me.” John chuckled as he filled a glass from the water dispenser in the fridge. He glanced at Matt over his shoulder. “Well, unfortunately, I’m also a bottom, so I don’t think it’d work out.” Matt barked out a laugh. “Oh honey. No no no, you have it all wrong. I may be lithe and femme, but I’m definitely not a bottom.”
John froze mid-sip when he heard this. He hadn’t caught a nervous freshman jerking off in the living room at one in the morning – he had walked into the den of a hunter and become prey. Despite Ryan sleeping upstairs, John was ensnared. He felt helpless; this was too tempting to walk away from. He had to know if Matt was telling a lie just to get laid.
John soon learned Matt was in fact telling the truth – he definitely was not a bottom.
Tanner looked down at his cock and sighed. Why did he shave his pubes for a guy? Why? It looked so silly. “Oh the stupid things we do for men,” he said to himself. He gently worked his fist up and down his shaft as it stiffened in his hand. Well it did make his cock look bigger, but more pitiful. It was extra-naked! Tanner gave it some sympathy strokes. “Don’t you worry, it’ll grow back. We’ll do some nice exfoliating and skin care, and then I’ll find you a nice man to play with you and who can milk you dry – make you shoot all the way across the room! I owe it to you, that last one was a real mistake. I blame the alcohol.” Tanner could have sworn his erection seemed a bit prouder now. I think I have a nice cock though,” he said to himself. “Someone out there has to love my thick chubby cock in a small pair of panties though. Just have to find that person who won’t be able to keep their hands off me, maybe someone who will lean over and whisper in my ear at the line in Starbucks: Are you horny sweetheart? Is the silk rubbing on you the right way? Why don’t we go into the restroom before we leave and see how far your foreskin is pulled back and how wet you are.” Tanner groaned and increased his speed. “Fuck, I should have stayed home and focused on myself this weekend instead of going out. Even my fantasies are making me hotter than that guy ever did!”
___________________________________________________________ Captions are fictional. Regardless of the caption….that’s like a perfect cock.
Wally stood on the driveway path and tucked his thumbs under his overalls. He was hesitant to get a houseboy at first. He just did not understand their need to serve. The idea of having someone bossing him around made his hackles raise. But his brother Bob had been insisting Wally needed some help around the farm for a while now; but ever since Wally broke his leg falling out of the hayloft, Bob had made it a zero-argument matter. Wally couldn’t be very mobile around the farm on crutches. Even on horse back, he still faced limitations as you use your legs to guide a horse. Once the cast came off, Wally still had to go to physical rehabilitation. Normalcy was a long way off. The ranch hands helped, but with every one of his own tasks taking longer, Wally had to admit that he needed someone to fill in the smaller tasks so he could focus on running his business.
In theory, it made sense although Wally still did not understand houseboys at all. They were sort of like a different species, kind of like hiring a man to be your wife. Wally wasn’t into women though so it looked smart on paper at least. But as Wally stood there taking in the sight of all the old furniture on the lawn, he was now more confused than ever. The houseboy emerged to drop off another chair. “Boy, what in tarnation as you doing?” He yelled as he slowly ambled toward the barn. The houseboy looked up at him. “Cleaning out your barn, Sir.” “I didn’t give you permission to do that!” “Well, no, but all that clutter up there is what caused your fall right? And some furniture was sort of blocking the stairs. It’s not safe. I want to make it safe for you Sir.”
Wally was dumbstruck. He couldn’t think of an answer, but remembered his manners. “Well – well uh. That’s mighty thoughtful of you.” The houseboy smiled. “It’s my pleasure, Sir.” Wally wished he had his pipe to chew on. “Well. I suppose it’s necessary. But where we going to put it all?” “If I may make a suggestion Sir?” “Go’on.” “It looks like a lot of this has been here a while. Some of it is rusted, broken. None of it matches.” Wally nodded. “My daddy was a bit of a collector you could say.” ”Well. You could get some money for some of this as scrap. Or sell some as it is. You have some old vintage oil cans in there that some antique collectors go nuts for.” “Really now?” “Really. Plus with this space cleared out, we could do a good barn clean out – sweep, remove the cobwebs, check for rot, check the supports. Get your beautiful old barn a new coat of paint.” Wally liked that idea. He thought the peeling paint was an eyesore. “Plus, um, I heard you talkin’ about getting another horse. You could probably use that money to buy one. But I’m not um, telling you how to use your finances. Of course.”
Wally licked his lip. “Well. You gotta good head on your shoulders. There’s a few things I want to keep. Pull everything out and we’ll go over it. Then make your calls.” The houseboy beamed. “I will Sir!” “And whatever we sell, you get 25% of it. Deal?” “Oh wow, thank you Sir! Thank you very much.”
Wally was startled by the brilliant look of total adoration on the boy’s face. The sun came out and the sweat on his pectorals and biceps glowed. It gave Wally an odd feeling in his gut. A feeling he rarely got familiar with, being alone in a rural area. A feeling he had forgot since his accident, since being on all the medication. Maybe it was cause the houseboy was shirtless and just in jeans and boots, but oh lordy, the feeling sure was coming on hard now. Wally swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “It’s only fair,” he managed. “I am gonna go get you something to drink. Be careful, boy.” “Yes sir, and thank you. Hydration would be great.” The houseboy nodded and got back to work.
Wally limped back to his house as fast as his busted, cast encased leg could take him. He collapsed into a rocking chair in the living room, sweating and heart racing. Wally reached into his overalls and found his penis. To his astonishment it was completely erect in his hand, and it was already leaking all over his underwear. The overalls created a tight, suffocating space, but there was no zipper in place. Wally debated unhooking the straps and shimmying of the one-piece, but he didn’t want to pull his hand away from his cock. It felt so good. Wally moaned as he stroked himself. The sensation made him dizzy and little dots flashed in front of his eyes. Oh, gods, it felt amazing. When was the last time he did this? Why did he stop? He closed his eyes and imagined that shirtless, sweaty houseboy and Wally’s balls just went off like shotgun blasts. He let out a gargle as his hand and thighs cramped to the point of pain and his vision flashed black for a moment. His penis began to fout and wouldn’t stop until Wally felt just utterly soaked. When Wally pulled his hand off, it was so sticky. He was shaking all over and Wally began to fear he had a heart attack. No. It was passing now. Wally let his hand rest on his heaving belly, mess and all, and he and drifted in and out of consciousness.
As the ferocious lust ebbed away, Wally felt an odd sort of calm and peace set in. He thought back to when he was stuck in that barn with a broken leg in searing agony, all alone, trying to ignore the realization that he might not be found for a while. It was a lonely feeling. The ache was almost worse than the pain. In reality, it had probably been no more than twenty minutes before one of the ranch hands pulled up in his truck after returning from errands, and Wally’s shouts reached him – but that wait felt like hours.
Wally didn’t want to die alone in a barn. He didn’t want to die alone at the end either. But mostly…he didn’t want to be alone period. He missed companionship. He missed affection. He missed sex. It was not enough to wait until the farm auctions in Forth Worth anymore for that special kind of intimacy that cowboys never talk about. It dawned upon Wally that maybe Bob had gotten him a houseboy for other reasons than making breakfast and arranging garage, er, barn sales. He sighed. Dammit, Bob was actually right about something for once in his life. He’d get all smug about it too.
Regardless, having that houseboy around was going to be a start of something new and fantastic. Especially if he remained shirtless.
Oh crap, Wally realized, he was supposed to bring some water out wasn’t he? Wally pulled out his hand from his overalls and gawked at the cum on it. “Jeee-zus!”
____________________________ Captions are fictional.
“See, nothing’s coming out.” John pushed Bob’s hand away. “Forget about making it squirt. You’re treating it more like a teat then a cock.” “Hey!” Bob protested. “It is my cock, and sorry there isn’t my room with my fingers there.” John put his hands up. “No offense given. But you’re not gonna satisfaction out of it like that. I swear, chastity will fix this.” “it won’t make my dick bigger…” “No. But it will break your fixation on trying to masturbate and making yourself frustrated. It will refocus your sexual energy on your p-spot, and it will let you enjoy longer sessions of arousal and more fulfilling orgasms.” “…More fulfilling orgasms when I masturbate?”
John grinned. “There won’t be more of that.” “What??” “See, this is the fixation I told you about. You don’t need masturbation. You have the perfect cock for chastity. Once you stop focusing on your frustration, you will have the long and satisfying sexual experiences you always dreamed of. Just – not through your cock. Through sex. Through vibration. Through touch. Through a million ways you are ignoring right now to do…whatever you’re doing right now.” Bob stopped jerking himself and considered John with a wary look. “I have a perfect cock huh?” “Mmhmm. And once you’re locked up, it’ll look even beautiful set against your big full balls.” The corner of Bob’s mouth lifted. “You really think I’m attractive down there?” “I do. I see you have so much potential.” John set the velvet bag on the coffee table. The metal pieces inside made soft clanks as it rested on the wooden surface. “One week. Then we can re-evaluate.” “One week…” Bob looked at the bag a long time. “But I still haven’t cum. I want to cum before we uh, do this.” John liked this negotiation. It meant Bob wanted this. And was going to surrender. He liked this very much. Bob just wanted one little thing. John could deliver. He took out the vibrating wand, and told Bob to lie down on the sofa. In one minute, he had Bob moaning and writhing as the vibrating head danced around his cock like silk draped across it over and over. He rubbed his thumb against the underside of that stiff nub, and suddenly it went off like a firecracker – jerking and squirting, balls high in their sac. John ignored the flecks on his shirt. Bob let out a deep moan. “Oh my god – fuck!” His muscles in his stomach tensed and flexed, thighs fluttering, arteries pulsing.
John turned some of the vibration on his balls and taint, helping all the backed up fluid out. He waited until the peak of the heat subsided. “There…feel better now?” Bob nodded in a daze. “Wow.” “Now imagine that two times stronger. Three times. Four times.” “No way…” “Oh yes, it’s possible. Let’s get you cleaned up and locked up. You’ll be so happy after a week. You’ll feel like you feel now, but better. Will you trust me?” Bob looked down at his cock. It was soft now and had mostly retracted. He also saw the mess. The amount of cum on his belly was impressive. He wanted that again and again. He wanted to have big strong orgasms and feel like a virile man. He was tired of being ashamed of his small penis and worrying about masturbating. It was time to take ownership of it. “Yes. I’ll trust you. Let’s do it.” Bob was surprised when John kissed him. “Thank you. I’m going to get a washcloth. Stay there.” “Yeah don’t worry about that. After that orgasm, I ain’t moving.”
Later that evening, after John left, Bob spent a good half hour staring at himself in the mirror. There was just a silver cap now where he was used to seeing his dick. But man, he couldn’t stop staring at his balls! They were so large! It made him feel like a virile stud. He was relieved at having met John. Things were definitely going to be better now.
“Mmmn.” “Is that bad or not?” Atei asked. “Hush,” Ro said. Atei held his tongue, but he was nervous. He heard of carpal tunnel impairing musicians and writers, and he knew the rest of his life would never reach its potential if he had to deal with this hand pain… Atei slowly became aware of a strange warm feeling, but it seemed to be coming from inside of him. “Wha? That feeling…” “Hush,” the healer said again. Atei felt scorned and held his tongue. The heater never burned him, but it was strange feeling the temperature move around like a small fish swimming in his bones. Then, it vanished. The healer released Atei’s hand and he pulled it back on reflex. “…Well?” Ro smiled at him and it made Atei uneasy. He knew Ro was far, far older than he looked, and only someone of tremendous skill and strong blood could do that. All the rumors he heard as a child were probably true. Deep down inside, sorcerers freaked him out
Ro smoothed his pants. “It’s not permanent.” Atei exhaled in relief. “You are making a mistake I see in a lot of young witches, male and female. When you summon, or cast, you tense your whole hand. Probably your whole arm. Some misconceived notion about how it makes you feel stronger. But the elements and the spirits don’t care if you’re tensing your hand. Your concentration and focus are much more important.“ “I tense?” Atei said, bewildered. “A lot of young people do this after watching like, television and movies. The good guy powers up or something and his veins bulge all over as he screams and yells.” Atei chuckled. “I know what you mean.” “You’re putting too much stress on your casting hand. Considering you also use that hand to write and jerk off with-” Atei choked. “You need to be gentler to it, or you won’t be able to gain the skills you need to join a coven.” Atei nodded, still in disbelief that such a disciplined man would say such a vulgar thing. Ro went on. “You need to relax when summon or casting. It’ll be hard for you to retrain yourself, but if you want the pain to stop, you should.” “Yes sir.” Ro nodded. “I’m also going to give you some herbs to make a hand soak.” “Yes sir.” “And no casting or summoning for three days.” Atei groaned. “I’m going to have to skip class tomorrow.” “Yes. And-” Ro pointed a finger. “No jerking off with that hand.” Atei blushed. “Hey.” Ro snickered as he stood up and went to go gather the herbs. Atei watched him. He moved in an odd way that was almost uncomfortable to watch. Ro seemed to float, as his head and body didn’t move up or down, but his feet moved forward anyway. He also dressed in a mismatched way, wearing an old woman’s plum-colored cardigan and black shimmery leggings. Ro kept his hair long and braided. As he waited, Atei massaged his hand and glanced around the parlor room. Everything in it looked incredibly old – the furniture, the little ceramics on the shelf, the dried flowers, the books, the wallpaper. “Thank you for waiting,” Ro said, startling Atei. “Ah, you’re back already.” “Yes. It’s fairly easy to make.” Ro handed him a paper packet, then explained how to make the soak while Atei took notes on his phone. “I think that’s all then?” Ro asked. Atei felt the corners of his mouth pull. “You haven’t told me what the treatment is for not being able to jerk off.” Ro raised an eyebrow. “Use your other hand.” “But shouldn’t I worry about it getting sore too?” Ro raised the second eyebrow. “You want me to prescribe you a tonic that will make you feel like you’re in heat right now? You’ll cum the sheets without doing a thing, and if you don’t get fluids you may die of dehydration by the third day.” Atei’s eyes went wide. “Uh not right now no.” Ro laughed. “I may have another offer that you may approve of more…” “I won’t die?” “Not likely,” Ro said, crossing his arms with a knowing smile. “I’m listening.” “I could relieve you. Atei stared at him. "Is that a professional thing healers do?” Ro shrugged his plum shoulders. “No. It’s not. But I’m old and weird and everyone’s scared of me. I know you like men. I though I’d ask anyway.” “…Wait, how did you know I liked men?” Atei demanded. Ro waived his hand vaguely. “Oh come on, I’m a sorcerer and you don’t think I have gaydar?” Atei had such a blank look on his face that Ro covered his mouth and laughed. “I love messing with the young witches. It’s too easy. Well, sorry if I offended you. Good luck with the hand. Your school’s insurance will pay for the bill.” Ro bowed his head and turned to leave. “No, wait,” Atei heard himself say. “…I’d like to take you up on that.” “Oh?” Ro said, one eyebrow up again. “I know, I’m young. And still learning things. But you are fascinating. And odd, yes. But fascinating. I can’t say no.” To Atei’s delight, he got the healer to blush a little. “Fascinating. Hm. That’s just a polite way to say weird.” “Odd,” Atei corrected. “But unique. I like coming here,” he admitted. Ro tilted his head. “Now you’re the odd one.” “Hey.” Ro waved again. “Do your hand soak tonight, and come back tomorrow evening. After dinner.” “After? Why not before?’ Ro folded his arms. “I’ll be busy all day tomorrow during the day. Some student turned their classroom walls inside out. Should be a good challenge.” Ro yawned. Atei cringed. “Yeesh. I’ve screwed up, but never that bad.” “So, tomorrow?” “Tomorrow,” Atei repeated. “Good. Take care of the hand. You know where the door is.” Ro waved and floated inside the house. Atei sat there a moment, wondering what just happened. Getting jerked off by a sorcerer was going to be scary, but Atei had a feeling it would be incredible. He wondered what it’d like to feel that heat-swimming-in-your-bones feeling in your cock. But there weren’t bones in the cock. Hm. Atei scratched his head. “Ow, damn hand…” He pressed the herb bundle to his nose. It smelled sweet, yet minty. “Let’s hope this works.” Atei had a feeling it would.
[To be continued.]
______________________________________________________________ Captions are fictional. One of my readers asked for a story about witches or sorcery or something, and this is what I came up with.
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??
“Yes, I’m masturbating. If you were considerate enough to knock before you barged in here bitching about your girl problems, I would have told you I was masturbating and to fuck off. So, fuck off unless you plan on helping.” He watches his roommate Jack screw up his face, then slam the door. He sighs and goes back to jerking off to the fantasy of Jack naked on a lounge chair. Why was his roommate so hot and so painfully straight? It made him cranky.
___________________________________________________ Text is fictional. This is Jamie Dornan for Interview Magazine.
First of all, you are to be commended for your devotion, your desire to grow and accept your place is powerful. Never doubt how this desire and understanding can truly give you the ability to change everything in your life.
I would say that the most important thing to remember is to be patient in this. You are breaking some very strong chains and cultural conditioning, and that doesn’t happen easily or quickly, but with patient endurance and daily effort, the chains will break and you will be free to be what you were born to be.
Now, some thoughts.
First of all, when working your ass pussy, try as much as possible to make your dick as irrelevant as possible. I find that wearing a jockstrap does a great deal in this regard. It keeps my meaningless dick hidden and that can help to keep it out of my thoughts.
Also, remember that one of the cultural conditioning aspects you are challenging is what an “orgasm” will be for you. For years, decades, you have defined an “orgasm” or “cumming” as the intense sensation and release which is connected to ejaculation from your dick. You are slowly reconditioning your body to experience a different form of “orgasm,” not the intense release, but the waves of pleasure which come from stimulating your ass pussy.
Allow yourself to feel that sensation, to experience it and, as you do so, consciously acknowledge that you are “cumming.” The more you do this, the more your body and mind will work together to give you that sense of “fulfillment” and “completion” that an ejaculatory orgasm used to give you. Eventually, you will stop thinking of “orgasm” as the end of the sexual act, and in this you will be open to multiple orgasms as you work your ass pussy.
At the beginning, you will find yourself needing to ejaculate to elevate the frustration that your cultural conditioning has imposed on you. A part of you will think that you haven’t finished yet, because you did not ejaculate. This will pass eventually, but in the meantime, if you absolutely must ejaculate, then only work your dick enough to bring this about, do it as quickly as possible and only working the head or gland of your dick, much as a clit would be worked. Even while doing this, remain focused on the sensation of your ass pussy. That is where your orgasms will come from.
In addition, while you are working on your ass pussy, imagine in your mind’s eye, the Alpha. Stay focused on His Cock, because that is all that matters at that moment. Imagine His Cock as it enters you, fills you. Focus on His connection to His Cock, and the pleasure His Cock give to Him as it fills you, as your ass pussy opens itself to His Cock.
Imagine His face, how His body responds to using your ass cunt. Keep in mind that this is not “sex,” but His power and dominance. Remember how His Cock, using your ass cunt, makes Him great, more powerful, more a Man.
As the sensations in your ass cunt grow, focus on the only orgasm which matters, which is His. Let your body and ass respond as you imagine Him cumming, shooting, feeling that intense release and amazing orgasmic joy which is His right as an Alpha. Soon, and with practice, you will feel the waves of an anal orgasm by imagining His powerful orgasm, a Real Man’s orgasm. In this, you will know that your orgasm don’t matter as much as His, and your body is at His service.
Keep working at it, don’t let the frustration get you down. You are on the right path, and you are breaking major chains, and reconditioning your mind and body after many, many years. But you are doing what you must and that is commendable.
Keep me informed, please, about your progress. We can all learn together.
Well, there’s this. Good learning guide for boys who feel this way.
