Tag: slave boy

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

“Leave us.”
Porter watches his henchmen go, before turning his attention to his new toy. His men had washed and shaved him, before putting him back in his underwear for display.
“You are quite a catch. Healthy. Strong. Will be useful at the docks. Now i’m gonna tell you this once and only once. You’re life could have ended yesterday at the end of my gun. You fucked up real good, but I know you were stealin’ to take care of your mama. I’ve given you mercy, so now your life is mine. You are my indentured man now. I expect you to be obedient and not too uppity. You will work when I say so, keep my bed warm at night, and your mom will get a nice deposit from now on. But the more you act up, the more you disobey the less she gets. So you be a good boy now, and we won’t have any problems.”
“N-n-no Sir. Thank you Sir.”
“That’s what I thought. You got a right head on you. You’ll learn fast. Now you will kneel in respect when I walk into a room. Back straight now. Knees together. Hands behind your back. Excellent. Remember that, I will test you. Now Roberts will show you to your quarters and get you fitted for a chastity device.”
“A – a what?”
“A chastity device, boy. You are going to have to earn every single privilege starting from zero. Down to the fork you eat with, and the cock you masturbate with.”
He stares at Porter with huge eyes.
“Don’t worry, you won’t be the only one in my squad with one on. Surely you can make some friends.” Porter grinned.

The boy worked his jaw, then stared at the carpet. He tried not to think about what was ahead but…it was better than jail. Or a coffin. And his mom got her medication and apartment paid for. He had no future anyway – a high school drop out, a delinquent who stole for cash. His only other job had been a drug runner. Porter was offering him a future, in a twisted sort of way. It was his only choice.

“Yes…. yes Sir. I don’t like the idea of the chastity cage Sir but…is it going to hurt?”
“No boy. You might feel some tightness. Any ache, you tell me, and I’ll fix it.”
“…Thank you Porter.”
“Sir.”
“Sir.”

“Good boy. Roberts! Come on here, get him fitted and take him to his quarters please until dinner.”
Roberts came back into the room. “Aye aye Captain. Alright, boy, come with me. And don’t you give me no shit, cause I’m not nearly as patient as ol’ Porter here. Man you’re a cute little thing.” He grinned. “You’re gonna fit in juuuust fine.”

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Text is fictional. This looks like Bound Gods to me…

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

A houseboy enjoys the attention of his Master’s young guest. He never thought about serving the guests this way, but the more Peterson teases his nipples the more the urge to protest ebbs away…. He likes the hand on his ass, likes being held in place in a man’s lap. The houseboy looks over at his Master for approval, direction. His Master smirks and raises his wine chalice in acknowledgement then glances at his guest. “Peterson, dear, I know you must be terribly pent up after your long journey but save his virginity, I have not taken it yet.”
Peterson groans. “You lay out a feast, but give me a sugarspoon to eat it with.”
The house Master tsks. “He is not yet ripe, but his scent says he is fruiting. You may ravish him in any other way, just do not spoil him.”
“It frustrates me, but I’ll behave myself. Best you take him soon, or other predators will no doubt steal your prize.”
An eyebrow goes up. “That ‘prize’ is branded and owned with papers, mind you, no fool would risk that that for one night of copulation.”
Peterson smiled. “Mmm…but you haven’t tasted these nipples and listened to him pant. A lot of logic escapes the mind when there’s a horny boy in your lap.”

The Master chuckles. “Aye of that I can agree. Hence why I’m going to watch you both…it is a most enjoyable view.”
“You hear that houseboy?” Peterson asks, nibbling on his ear. “We best give your Master a show or he will be ever so grumpy tomorrow.”
“He is adorable when he’s grumpy though,” the houseboy adds, daring to be a bit cheeky.
“Boy, do not say such slanderous things. I am not.”
Peterson laughed. “Oh yes you are. But we’re going to make him a happy man aren’t we? Now houseboy, let’s see…what’s between your legs hm?”

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Text is fictional. Watermarked.

Note on slavery

Note on slavery

by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

So, something interesting happened yesterday. I posted a caption in the style of a fake magazine article; it was a response to a caption describing an undercover volunteer efforts to unearth poor conditions in slave holding cells. This caption was set in a world in where slavery was an acceptable way of dealing with prisoners of war or other miscreants.  

When I got home from work that night, I found two messages in my inbox. One from the guy who wrote the original caption; he loved my response so much he wanted to post it on his slavery-kink Yahoo groups. The second was from a reader who has given me permission to post his comment anonymously:

Dude, actual slavery? Most of what I’ve seen of your writing is pretty hot but submitting in a consensual setting is one thing and human trafficking and rights abuse is another. Granted what you wrote isn’t bad like op or his blog, which I mistakenly clicked on, but yeah. Sorry just…yeah.

I just wanted to address this for a moment. When most people read my stories on my Tumblr about men dominating other men, controlling their lives, their sex drives, their cocks, their bodies, etc, I am assuming you assume the situation in the caption is consensual and no one receives psychological trauma as a result. Also, every single of you probably assume every photo reblogged on Tumblr is up there with the model’s consent. Cause, it’s icky otherwise and spoils the hotness factor. This is a really thin line.

Anyone who has ever considered a specific kink or fetish or lifestyle will tell you that fantasizing about it and making it real are two very different things. Hence, why sometimes people read or write about kinks online and never practice them in real life. Sometimes it’s just not possible to replicate in real life. Sometimes the sexual thrill comes from how forbidden/impossible it is. And there’s a time to acknowledge that, maybe beat off to it, then put it aside as fiction and move on to a more logical reality.

Just because I wrote that caption about slavery, it doesn’t mean I condone or approve of forced slavery. I rarely ever write about that kink just because of all the grey area. A small portion of what I write, I write because the readers like it, not because I’m sitting here masturbating furiously. I tried something new and it didn’t work. It happens.

Also, If you noticed, I dated the fake magazine article in the future. Maybe something happens in the future that results in that system being put into place. Maybe Jack is a product of an environment that thought slavery was OK, and maybe Jack triggers a revolution that helps break down and destroy instituted slavery for more humane options. Who knows. I haven’t even bothered to address that selling prisoners of war into slavery is probably a big ol’ violation of the Geneva Convention. That caption was a moment in fictitious time when a whistleblower took action. That’s all.

Although we like to think of ourselves as progressive humans, there are now more slaves than ever. This is not OK, and never will be OK. Writing a short caption to something I found on Tumblr is in no way condoning non-consensual slavery, and should not be mistaken for such. That caption was a moment in fictitious time when a whistleblower took action.

Sorry if I offended anyone. Also should be noted that I did not read the original poster’s Tumblr before reblogging that caption.

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mastermikes-slave:

After an intense pain-pig training session Master comforts HIS property. Using pain and pleasure to manipulate HIS slave, Master Mike expresses HIS absolute dominance with HIS mental attitude of absolute superiority and control.

“You made me very proud today. Master Will told me he was impressed with you, and I’ve never heard him say that about anybody. I know your back, your balls, and your butt are throbbing. When we get home I’ll put some cooling salve on, and while you go out for a piss, I’ll put a soft blanket in your crate instead of that towel so you can rest fully before feeding time.”
“Thank you Sir, it was a pleasure and a honor to serve you with my body and mind Sir. This slave humbly accepts your generosity and will use that time to rebuild my energy and body into something you can use and manipulate again.” The slave tries to keep his voice neutral, but he’s on the brink of being emotional. He loves it, absolutely loves it, when his Master pets him and plays with his hair after a session and talks to him in this low, soothing tone. It means he’s done well, and lived up to all expectations. Nothing can make a slave happier to be fawned on by a strict Master and recognized for hard work.

Master Julian crinkles his forehead. “Boy, if you need to cry, you have my permission to do so. It’s a normal response to an intense session, and you didn’t cry very much after that strapping. Takahashi’s boy couldn’t even make it the whole way through.”
The slave manages a “thank you Sir” before his voice cracks and he begins to make little gasping noises as the tears stream down his face.  Tutting, Master Julian pulls him into a bear hug, minding his back, and rocks him until his slave’s shoulders stop heaving. “There there…that’s a good boy, Exi. Let it all out. Burn it all away until nothing is left but the pillar of your strength and training.”

The slave hiccups, hilariously loud. Master Julian goes over to the sink area and wets some paper towel, then wipes the tears and snot off his boy’s face.
“There we are now. Feel better, boy?”
He nods, his head hanging low in exhaustion. “This slave is lucky to have such a caring Master.”
Master Julian shares with him a private, little smile. “Because this Master loves this slave very much and does not see merit in damaging his property. Mental health is just as important as physical health.”
“Th- thank you Sir, that makes this slave want to work even harder to be worthy of your attention.”
“It’s my job to find your limits, Exi. Just obey orders and the rest will follow. Alright now. Let’s get you home, you need your nap before you fall asleep standing up.”

On the way out of the Dungeon, Master Will pulls Master Julian aside and inquires if he plans to sell Exi, like he did the rest. To Will’s surprise, Julian gently rebuffs his inquiry. Unlike the other five other boys he’d trained and sold – Uno, Two, San, Quatre, and Fimm – something had clicked with number six, he explained. To tear apart the bond between a slave and a Master would be ruinous to them both. Master Will understands this nods. A shame, but at least they can still play together. They shake hands, and Master Julian takes his beloved Exi home to recover.

Master Julian struts all the way to the car, wanting anyone who was in the parking lot to see his marked slave’s body and know that this slave on a leash was unquestionably His.

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Text is fictional. Source is from Teen Wolf. The names of the past slaves are simply 1 through 5 in other languages – Spanish, English, Japanese, French, and Icelandic. Exi is Greek. Julian picked those names based on their bloodlines.

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“Get up, boy.” Master Patrick pushed the steel tip of his boot into his slave’s butt. He gave him a couple little punts, not hard enough to bruise. “Come on, up with you. Nap time is over. All fours.”
“Y…yes sir,” the slave managed, shaking the sleep out of his head. The slave immediately propped himself so he was on his hands and knees, his collar and metal cuffs around his ankles and knees making soft metallic noises. When his Master clipped a leash held in his left hand to the collar, the slave let out a yawn. The Master ignored this and tugged the slave across the cement basement floor.

“Come on boy, you should be awake by now. Hurry up, Pet!” Pet moved as fast as he could, trying not to injure his knees. When they reached the stairs, his Master barked out, “Up. Standing.” The slave stood up quickly and followed his Master up the stairs. He was then dragged, stumbling to the kitchen. Pet was very confused but did as he was told.

“Sit.” Master Patrick pointed to a pulled out chair.
Pet stared at his Master, wondering if he heard that wrong. Slaves do not use their Master’s chairs.
“Sit or I will get the cane and beat you right now.”
Pet quickly down, a tad baffled. He didn’t know what to do with his hands and folded them in his lap. His Master put a blindfold around his eyes; Pet was pretty sure it was an eyemask for sleeping.

He felt his Master unclip the leash and set it on the counter. Pet heard the fridge door open and the clink of something ceramic set something on the counter. 

Pet was thinking about what this all meant when suddenly, the blindfold was removed. He blinked. Before he could get his bearings, Master Patrick set a large pink cake right down in front of him. “Happy Birthday Pet. Congratulations on turning 25.”
Pet stared at the cake, his eyes wider than the plate the cake was served on. His jaw dropped and words stuck in his throat. He looked at his Master, completely baffled. Patrick tried not to laugh, he’d never seen such a confused look on his slave’s face. His eyes kept darting from the cake to his Master, in disbelief that one was related to the other.

“I know your parents raised you as a Jehovah’s Witness, Pet, and I know you were never fond of it. You told me once how you used your sexuality to get out of the church.”
Pet nodded, dumbly.
“I knew you’d never had a real birthday before, and well…I found the most birthday perfect cake in a pastry shop and had to get it. I wanted to show my appreciation, because although I’m in charge, I can’t play without you. I just want you know, boy, that this past year with you has been my favorite year in all these years I’ve been doing BDSM. You’re true to yourself, and you know how to separate your slave self from your real life, and you when you are my slave there is no better slave.”
Pet opened his mouth to say something but Master Patrick held up his hand.
“So the reason there’s one candle is to signify your rebirth into a new life, as your new self. A life with birthdays in it.”

“I…. I…. Sir I-,” Pet sputtered. He was momentarily captivated as Master Patrick lit the single candle with a lighter. The flame sparkled in Pet’s eyes. The light danced in the frozen folds of the frosting, each little dot casting its own tidy shadow.
“Oh Sir,” he gasped, his throat tight.
“Go on, make a wish and blow it out boy.”
Pet blinked. He looked up at his Master, who nodded. Pet thought, make a wish, and blew it out. He clapped his hands as the smoke curled upwards. “Ooooohh.”
“Good boy.” Patrick sat in the chair next to Pet.
A lump formed in Pet’s throat and he began to sniffle as tears filled his eyes. “Sir this is the…the…I can’t even think of what to say! The cake is so beautiful, it’s perfect, and I’m just – I cannot give you a good enough blowjob to convey how much I love you right now. No one has let me explore my forbidden side like you. You just make me so happy.”
Master Patrick put a hand on the back of his slave’s shaved scalp and pulled him forward so he could kiss his forehead and dry his tears with a napkin. “Shh there there, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“Permission to hug you Sir?”
“Permission granted.”

Pet moved over one chair and snuggled up in Sir’s lap, sitting sideways, wrapping his arms around his neck and squeezing hard. “I never get to do this,” he murmured.
Master Patrick rubbed his back with one hand. “Mm you are warm. Were you really surprised? Didn’t know it was your own birthday? Permission granted to speak freely.”
“Thank you Sir.” He hiccuped. “Today’s the 26th right?”
“Yes.”
“I guess I just lost track of the days since I’m off work due to the renovation. I don’t need to know the days when we play, cause when I’m in headspace you’re my world.”
Master Patrick smiled. “Well it’s the 26th and it’s your birthday. I hope you’ll eat the cake…?”
Pet melted at the anxiety in his voice. “Yes! Of course, I’ve never had pink birthday cake before, it looks delicious. We’ll eat it together?”
“Yes, I’d like that. Oh, and don’t think I cheapened out – I got you a present too.”
“Sir! I’m just a slave…what do I need besides you?”
“Oh I thought of something. Trust me, I saw it at the adult store and knew you’d go crazy for it. But you’ll get it later, after we get back from from Terrance’s housewarming party tonight. I’m gonna tie a balloon to your collar so everyone knows.”

Pet couldn’t help but laugh. “Sir! That’s a bit silly, if I may say so.”
“Well I think it’s adorable and you don’t get a say.” He kissed his boy. “Mmm I cannot wait to kiss you when you taste like frosting.” He gave Pet a playful swat on the ass. “Go get the cake cutter in the utensil drawer and two plates.”
“Yes sir!” he bounded up and bounced over to the cabinet to get them. When he fetched the items and brought them to the table, he was momentarily captivated by the sight of the cake again and begin to cry fresh tears.
“Oh Pet…sweetheart. It’s alright. Come on, it’s just cake.”
“No, Sir, forgive me for saying so, but it’s more than that. It’s an embodiment of our past year together. I knew if we could make cake out of that, it would be so pretty and sweet, just like this. Made of blood, sweat, and tears.”
Master Patrick considered this. “That is very insightful thing to say for a slave. Yes, I would hope it would look like this too.”
“Can I make the first cut?”
“Yes, boy. Straight line.” Master Patrick smiled the entire time he watched his giddy slave boy cut the cake. When Pet stuck a finger full of frosting into his mouth, his eyes rolled back and lashes fluttered. “Careful boy, you can’t have an orgasm now, save it for later.”
“Sorry it’s really, really good-…did you say I’m going to get to cum later?”
Master Patrick smirked. “Yes. That’s your second birthday present – after your birthday spankings of course.”
Pet couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.  “Oh gosh, I love spankings. I suppose I’m getting 25 swats Sir?”
“Yes, and then I’m taking you to my bed. But first, come on! Let’s eat!”

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Text is fictional. Source below:

im-horngry:

Birthday Cake – As Requested!

Confetti Cake with Cotton Candy Frosting!

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Noah gasped and stumbled backwards, crashing into the desk and bruising his hip. The vibration surged through his nerves, up his spine, and worked its magic by loosening his limbs. He pursed full lips and whimpered, but the metal cage around his cock held firm. He must not cum. Noah heard a rustle outside the door and froze, then sighed in relief when it passed. This was technically his open office hours but the door was locked. If a student knocked, he’d eventually have to explain why he didn’t answer.

Another wave of vibration went through him. Noah put his fingers back near his pussy in some foggy headed attempt to control the power, to smooth the sweet ache. His Master knew exactly when he had time off between teaching classes and had set the vibrator to go off at the opportunite moment. Just minutes before, Noah had received a text message instructing him to strip. To do this at work, with just a door between him and the school, was terrifying and thrilling.

A soft moan slipped past his lips. He hated chastity cages, but his Master had put him into one as he dressed his pet this morning. He also bent him over and slid a vibrating bullet up his freshly washed ass. Noah’s Master wanted him to feel that grip around his cock the entire morning, so by the time that vibrator kicked in he was going to be drowning in lust.

Part of him wanted to rip that cage off and masturbate furiously. The other half of him, the half that won, clutched the desk and repeated to himself over and over: be good. Soon, that first part of him would be gone. This is what his Master wanted; it pleased him to know he could control his boy from afar. Noah hoped one day the training collar he wore at home would be replaced by a real collar. That would never happen if he couldn’t surrender his body’s sex drive to his Master’s hands. Noah had heard so many wonderful rumors about anal sex, hands-free orgasms, and the effects of temporary denial, but they all required another man – a superior man with a superior cock to wean him off his addiction to self pleasure.

Noan’s trapped cock leaked long strings of pre-cum. A shudder went through him as light orgasm rippled outwards from his prostate. He covered his mouth to quiet a groan. Something was happening, building, building, building. His cock felt like it was going to explode out of its restraint any second. He clenched his ass cheeks together, which made the vibrations ten times more amazing. It felt wonderful. It was coming, it was almost here, any second-! …And then it stopped.

“No!” he gasped, panting. “Noo….fuck I wanna cum, oh god Sir let me cum please,” he begged, but no one was there. Noah let out a frustrated sob. His cock was almost purple, and there was a puddle on the floor. Then, his phone rang. He dove for it.

On the other line, his Master chuckled. “Let me hear how horny you are boy.”
“Please Sir, please, turn the vibration back on, please I was so close, I was so. close. to having an anal orgasm please, oh god. I’m so horny, the room is spinning. Holy shit.”
“No…it will stay off.”
Noah whined in a loud, petulant way.
“I want that bullet nudging your prostate through-out the afternoon. We are having an early dinner with a bunch of other Masters and I intend to fuck you over the table for dessert. I want them to see your helpless trapped cock and all the mess you’ve made in your underwear. Is it damp?”
“Very Sir,” he leaned against the desk to catch his breath. “There is so much precum on the floor. uugh I want to jerk off so badly!”
“But you won’t.”
A helpless, frustrated noise passed his lips. “No. No I won’t Sir. I’m going to be good, just…very horny.”
“Yes,” he exhaled, “That’s what I want. Good slave. Now, take a picture of all the mess you made and send it to me. Then, clean it up, and get dressed. You have class in forty minutes and you have to eat and be presentable.

Noah replied with a submissive "Yes Sir”. They chatted a little longer and hung up. Noah set the phone down on the table and heaved a sigh of major frustration. The urge to climax was fading but he was hornier than ever. He wrapped his hands around his cock and felt nothing but the metal.
“Fuck.” He couldn’t. He couldn’t cum. His hand dipped to cup his balls; they were hot and swollen. The old part of Noah should have been somewhat humiliated at the idea of being fucked over a table in front of a bunch of Master’s friends, but now he couldn’t wait. His Master would be so pleased with his body and it would feel so very, very good.

Teaching the afternoon class on astrophysics was going to be a challenge, though. Maybe in 40 minutes the blush would have faded from his cheek and the pre-cum would stop dripping. 

Noah reached for his underwear. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

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Text is fictional. Source unknown.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

You can only tame a feral slave so much. He was neglected by his parents, and was considered unmanageable by the foster care system. They were also scared of him, the things that turned him on and the pain he liked. You found him on the side of the road, skinny and filthy and offering an ass for meal. He just wanted a permanent home, somewhere he could live out his sexual fantasies safely and feel like he belonged. So you trained him and sculpted him, defined the lines, set rules for him. You made sure he was housebroken and didn’t horde food. You beat him cause he loved it, and introduced him to everything in your dungeon. You took him into your bed and collared him. And he was a better boy for it, a happier boy, less reactive and more malleable. More sated.

Yet, there is a limit to how much you can do for the wild ones. They will eventually feel the call of the wild, especially on those warm summer nights when the wind blows in past the curtains. The urge to roam, the urge to seek prey, the urge to seek other men, it calls to them. The collar helps, cause people know he’s owned. His RFID chip has your information on it. Sometimes you let him go, knowing he’ll be back by morning, filthy and reeking of sex and piss and alcohol. You scrub him, examine him, give him a swat, and give him his morning chores.

When he starts to come home in a police car, covered in scratches, bite marks, and wearing a muzzle, then it’s time to put the safety locks back on the windows. Of course, you know he’ll try it again, and when he does, you’ll catch him and drag him off to your dungeon. You’ll gag him and truss him up like a Christmas turkey. He’ll grunt at you, spitting mad, his eyes shooting daggers at you. You eye him with a sigh, then haul him up and strap him to the milking machine. An hour or so of penetration and low e-stim will help get most of the pent up frustration out of the system. By the end, he’ll be too drained to run off. You’ll cuddle him and put him to bed. He’ll be docile in the morning as a lamb.

You’ll tolerate it all summer. You do the best you can. You socialize him and run him, and let him have supervised sessions at the local dungeon. It’ll be over once fall comes. He’ll want to settle and hibernate, be happy with just your cock there. And you’ll give it to him, as often as he’ll take it, until spring comes and you can open the windows again.

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Text is fictional. Source is here, and used without his knowledge.

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youthfuldominance:

What I love most about this image are the items clipped on the Dom’s belt. He is constantly working to sure a good experience for the boy. He is ready to react and create something new. Just so the boy gets what he needs. 

“It’s taken me months to figure out the perfect way to display my property, boy. Today I finally achieved it – you’re completely vulnerable and helplessly exposed, your body thrust forward for me to use or abuse as I wish. I’ve stripped of your hair, clothes, and identity yet as our time together has passed you just plead harder to be used, to be fucked, to be edged. It’s not easy living up to your level of need, but I’ve finally tamed you. You were meant to wear my collar. We have so many more years to grow together, slave, but you will always look more beautiful when I get to look down at you.”