Gallery

gayboykink:

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.

_____________________________
Text is fictional.

Gallery

“Good lord…” Master Hensely gently manipulates the boy’s cock. “The poor thing.” The slave whimpers in pain and trembles under the touches. “I bet he’s got enough Viagra in his system for a week. You got Master Crux under control?”
I walk in from the other room, winding spare rope around my hands, “I got him tied up pretty good. Got one of those Viagras he loves so much down his throat and a big ol dildo vibrating up his ass. He’ll be a pretty mess by the time the police get here–holy shit! Look at that bruising.  Christ, he’ll be lucky if there isn’t permanent damage.”
Master Hensley wraps the slave in a blanket then picks him up in a princess carry, but he’s sobbing because his back is a mess and it hurts a great deal. “No …no I can’t leave the house he’ll punish me! Please no! Put me down!”
Master Hensley struggles to hold onto the lad and looks to me for help. “Calm yourself boy!”
I produce a rag and a small bottle of liquid from my utility belt and soak it. Once placed over the slave’s face, his body goes limp and heavy. He groans, but is otherwise silent. “That should do it, Master Hensley.”
“I’m most gracious. Now let’s get him out of here. His rehabilitator is waiting for our status.” He pauses to gaze lovingly at our latest rescue’s tear stained face, “It’s alright slave, it’s over now. We got you. Once you’ll recover, you’ll be placed with a good master who will take the best care of you.”