All Activity

Based on my personal experience is that it is somewhat regional, there are definitely places that couldn't support a sex club or bathhouse that is setup primarily for group sex, and other regions where they have multiple thriving venues for that very thing. The PNW is one of the regions where it doesn't happen, and I think it would be difficult to curate even a small group to have that kind of orgy on a regular basis. That is pretty much against local etiquette here. Even offering can be problematic here, there are a lot of "sides" that don't even do oral, plus a lot of committed bottoms that consider their dick to be off limits, both of which are likely to make a scene if you even offer.

Always a bad sign and makes you hope the writer is okay, but I’ve been surprised at the number of writers coming back recently after a multi-year hiatus, so I imagine the stories that appear abandoned aren’t all beyond hope.

I swallowed some this past Friday at my local bookstore. Took it all over my face and head too!

Thanks DepravedPig2Poz. Your article gives a nice insight into the escort world in Toronto (and perhaps elsewhere?)

I used to play with a gay couple several years back. Our play always centered around me sucking their cocks and occasionally I would submit my cunt. They brought up the idea of piss play and we experimented in their shower. It was all golden shower then. Today, it has evolved into both swallowing and showers. Love both!!

Please tell me we get to see what happens when his parents put in that DVD, what they exactly saw, and exactly how they reacted. Wonder if his mum was slightly turned on...

Yes!

I was 13 when I took my first load, and the same age, when I was rimmed. My top rimmed me right after he had bred me. I felt his tongue deep inside my pussy. I was so turned on that I told him that I wanted his cock inside me again. I spent at least 2 hours in his bed being bred and rimmed over and over again. Since then I've had similar hot experiences regularly.

I was a couple of months short of my 18th birthday the first time someone rimmed me before proceeding to slide his dick inside me, but as incredibly good as it felt I knew it wasn't what I wanted, so I locked my thighs around his waist and rolled over so he was underneath me before pulling myself off his dick and ramming my cock inside him instead so easily that he must have lubed himself before joining me in his bed. Just a few minutes of fucking him made him cum with his dick between our bellies but I kept on fucking until I bred him. Even after my first orgasm my cock was so hard I just kept fucking until I shot a second load inside him. The first time someone came inside me was about 6 months later with a hot black man who got me drunk and took me home where we spent most of the night taking turns and swapping loads.

Did you apply? 😈

The videos are back. A little progress.

Absolutely. I love affirming this for myself, and I get so horny just from typing it out: I am a faggot. I am a faggot and I am a bottom. I love getting fucked in the ass by men and taking their loads. I love being used and bred.

Toronto Gay Escorts: The Good, the Bad, and the Flaky Welcome to the wild, wonderful, and occasionally infuriating world of gay male escorts in Toronto — where the Village still pulses with energy, Pride turns the city into a week-long party, and a scroll through Rent.Men can feel like browsing a high-end menu of boyfriends-for-hire. From muscled tops advertising “real man experience” to versatile students offering the full Boyfriend Experience (BFE), Toronto’s scene is diverse, accessible, and surprisingly resilient. But behind the glossy photos and five-star teases lies a gig-economy reality that’s equal parts thrilling and chaotic. Let’s break it down with honesty, a dash of humor, and zero sugar-coating. The Good: Why It Can Be Fantastic Toronto boasts one of North America’s most vibrant queer communities, and the escort scene reflects that. You’ll find everything from athletic porn-adjacent pros to charming “bad boy next door” types who can go from vanilla cuddles to full kink in the same session. Many emphasize companionship — dinner dates, event arm candy during TIFF or Pride, or just low-key evenings where conversation flows as easily as everything else. Rates usually land in the $200–$400/hour range (higher for overnights or premium talent), and the variety is impressive: all ages, ethnicities, body types, and orientations. Some guys are full-time pros who travel for multi-day bookings; others are university students paying rent or funding tuition. When it clicks — respectful chemistry, great hygiene on both sides, and genuine vibes — it can feel like the ultimate stress-reliever in a busy, sometimes lonely city. Plenty of clients walk away raving about attentive service, zero judgment, and that rare “he actually seemed into it” magic. The Bad (and the Ugly): Flakiness, Ghosting, and Last-Minute Chaos Ah, the notorious flakiness. Showing up two hours late, cancelling 30 minutes before arrival, straight-up ghosting after confirmation, or letting messages pile up unanswered — it’s a complaint you’ll hear from clients across forums and private chats. It’s not every escort, but it happens often enough to be a running joke (or groan) in Toronto’s scene. Why so unreliable? A perfect storm of gig-economy realities: Overbooking to hedge against client no-shows. Toronto’s brutal traffic, TTC delays, and parking nightmares. Safety-first caution under Canada’s end-demand laws (Bill C-36), where buyers are criminalized and escorts stay extra vigilant about red flags. Burnout, mental health struggles, and the irregular lifestyle that comes with the job. Add in occasional substance use (crystal meth still weaves through parts of the broader gay scene) and the casual ghosting culture inherited from Grindr, and you get a recipe for frustration. It’s not malice most of the time — it’s survival in a high-pressure, low-structure world. The Hidden Challenges: What Escorts Really Deal With Here’s where it gets interesting (and human). Many escorts carry heavy backstories: family rejection for being gay, early independence, and the double stigma of queerness plus sex work. That leads to isolation — hiding their income from friends and family, struggling to date “civilians,” and battling anxiety or depression from the emotional labor of performing intimacy on demand. Mental health is a big one: burnout, body-image pressure, and the constant need to manage boundaries with strangers. Physical demands add up too — staying in shape, repetitive strain, and staying on top of sexual health despite the risks. Legally, the criminalization of clients makes everything more precarious; reporting bad situations to police is rare because of intersecting stigmas. Income can be good on paper, but it’s irregular, with no benefits, sick days, or safety net. Many rely on it for basics like rent, creating pressure that sometimes spills into flakiness. In short, it’s rarely “easy money.” It takes serious resilience, emotional intelligence, and boundary-setting that most nine-to-five jobs never demand. Rent.Men Reviews: Read Between the Lines (and Maybe Don’t Write Them) Rent.Men remains the go-to platform, packed with Toronto profiles and glowing (sometimes suspiciously perfect) reviews. But here’s the reality check: posting a public review creates a permanent digital paper trail linking you directly to an illegal (for the buyer) transaction. Savvy clients often skip reviewing altogether to avoid any future headaches. Even if you do post, the platform has a reputation for siding with escorts when negative feedback rolls in. Fact-based complaints about no-shows, poor service, or other issues can vanish after the escort requests removal — sometimes with little explanation or chance for rebuttal. This tilts the visible review ecosystem toward positivity, so many experienced clients treat RM scores as a starting point only and cross-check with private networks instead. Pro Tips: How to Be a Great Client (and Get Better Service) The golden rule? Treat it like a professional service with mutual respect, and you’ll rise to the top of their priority list. Here’s how to level up: Hygiene is non-negotiable (and thoughtful prep is sexy): Shower thoroughly — everywhere — right before meeting. Bottoms: a gentle lukewarm-water douche 30–90 minutes ahead is standard courtesy to keep things smooth and mess-free. If you’re prone to urgency on longer sessions, a dose of Imodium a couple hours prior can add peace of mind (without going overboard on douching, which can irritate). Tops don’t need to douche, but fresh is mandatory. If anything unexpected happens? Stay chill, grab a towel, quick rinse, zero drama. Grace under pressure earns major points. Be reliable and clear: Confirm details early, show up on time (or message promptly if delayed), and stick to the plan. Escorts get flaked on too — your consistency makes you the “easy, drama-free” booking they actually look forward to. Screening and deposits: Accept basic verification for their safety. A modest deposit (20–50%) shows you’re serious and helps everyone commit. Respect boundaries: Discuss limits, safer sex, and expectations upfront. Pay cash at the start. No haggling, no pushing extras, no overstaying without offering more. Be present, kind, and fun rather than purely transactional. Manage expectations: Have a backup plan. Focus on providers with solid recent patterns. And remember — even the best can have an off day in this unpredictable world. Clients who show up hygienic, punctual, respectful, and low-maintenance often report dramatically fewer flakes and far more enjoyable experiences. The scene works best as a two-way street. At the end of the day, Toronto’s gay escort world is a microcosm of the city itself: progressive, diverse, energetic, and imperfect. When you approach it with realism, respect, and a sense of humor, the “good” moments can outweigh the flaky ones. Just pack patience, bring your A-game on hygiene, and enjoy the ride — Toronto style. Research completed with assistance from Claude.

Chapter 24 - A Morning After Jordyn opened his eyes. He felt the smooth sheets against his naked body and then winced as he tried to move. Everything ached - especially his back and his nipples. He raised the sheet and glanced down. When he saw the rings there he knew that this time none of it had been a dream and that this time there would be no waking up in his bed at the family home. Memories flooded into his mind of all that had happened. The ceremony, the street thugs, the cum and the piss. Then his breeding. All of those men, all of that cock. There had been WAY too many men. By the time they had lifted him into the sling he had been pretty much out of it. Maybe the poppers had something to do with that. Anyway, he couldn't remember much after Clyde had... That explained why his back hurt. He shifted and felt a new focus of discomfort. It wasn't that surprising - his hole had taken a lot of cock and he hazily remembered something else too. Despite all the discomforts he now felt his little dicklet rise to full attention. That somehow didn't seem right. The door opened. "Oh hi sweetie you are back with us!" "I've been asleep," he said groggily. "Oh only for about two days on and off," responded Spice breezily. Her peroxide hair was its usual stark contrast with the dark make-up around her eyes. "I've been coming in to check on your piercings and artwork. It's all fine. Now we need to get you washed and some food into you." Jordyn looked around him again. He was in a small room. It was really only a bed and a chair and a wardrobe. There was nothing personal about the room and he recognised it for what it was. A guest room. How many other young men had recovered here, how many had been looked after by Spice? He could ask her of course but it didn't really seem to matter. "Er - I've got some pain in my ... um." Spice looked at him like he was an idiot. "Well you let a crowd of big hairy guys at your sweet little virgin hole. Of course it hurts! It's nothing that spectacular - believe me I've seen a whole lot worse. Give it another couple of days and you'll be horny for more cock. Like I say I've seen this plenty of times before." Jordyn got out of bed and gingerly stood up. Hardly even registering the fact that he was naked. "Talking of horny," giggled Spice. She ushered him through into an adjoining little bathroom. Then she lathered her hand and carefully cleaned Jordyn's stiff little dicklet. "What's the reason for this then? Just pleased to see me?" Spice bit her lower lip as she grinned up at him. "No - I mean yes, I mean - I don't know. I was thinking about you know." "Oh well - I won't take offence. You've got rave reviews - you want to see?" Well of course he did. After thy had cleaned him up properly Spice handed him her phone. Jordyn took it and then paused. He knew this was likely to be exciting. "I'm not wearing my cage." Spice smiled at him. "It's in the draw of the bedside table sweetie." Jordyn found it while Spice went and ran some cold water onto her long fingers. A few judicious touches and Jordyn's little cock had shrunk enough to go back into its cage, where it belonged. Jordyn reached for the phone. Now he could enjoy himself. *** Over the next couple of days Jordyn watched the full three-hour film of his destruction all the way through three times, watched certain sections many more times than that. That last part, after all the men had emptied their balls a second time, when Ash had lubed up his entire hand. The young man's fingers and then wrist had disappeared into the gaping raw hole that even now Jordyn could hardly imagine was his. The hole of BoiFagBarbie. How had he taken that fist, almost that arm? Ash was quite slight but it still looked amazing. The fingers deep within BoiFagBarbie churning and mixing the toxic cum that filled him. Pushing it against any damage, any abrasions, any wounds in the healthy young faggot. Most amazing of all was the fact that until he had seen it on the video he really couldn't remember it. He had been too far gone by then. Had it only been poppers? Spice said that he hadn't been given anything else and he thought he could trust her. Had it just been his own horniness that had taken him so far out of reality? He loved reading what the men had written about it. The men who had been there and the men who had settled for a live pay-per-view or for receiving a copy of the edited down masterpiece via the internet. Jordyn's parents, of course, did not have to pay. They also still had a DVD player. A disc had appeared in their mail-box just as Jordyn's rules of submission had arrived that day which seemed like a lifetime ago. The personal delivery unnoticed, the man responsible unidentifiable even if a camera had caught him. It was the only physical copy ever produced but Jerome and his boys didn't skimp on such things. A talented young man had designed a beautiful cover. It was titled, 'The Making and Breaking of BoiFagBarbie,' with the cover picture separated into two halves. On one side the smiling and undeniably recognizable Jordan Myers stood outside of his family home. On the other BoiFagBarbie, his face plastered with make-up that had run from sweat and spit and cum and maybe even piss, naked in the sling with a dark-skinned man plowing his hole. The femboi's mouth open as he howled out his ecstasy. The pictures were so different and it seemed impossible to believe their message but they had been carefully chosen. Once you saw that the two young men were in fact the same young man then you could never un-see it. The only negative response had, strangely, been from the Breeding Zone. Apparently Jerome's account there had been banned permanently. They didn't approve of him snatching up all their cutest little prospects. That sort of thing couldn't be encouraged. They had a reputation to maintain! Fortunately, according to Spice, Jerome always had a couple of back-up accounts just for such contingencies. *** Jerome himself had been noticeable by his absence. It stayed that way until a couple of days later. However, when his owner did arrive he did so in company. Spice had answered the knock on the door and opened it to reveal Jerome and a Metro Police Officer. The latter looked stern and had a hand on the butt of his firearm as he waked into the apartment. He was a big man, over six feet tall and with a powerful physique. He was sort of familiar until you understood a man very like him was the perfectly-toned eye-candy on every Police procedural TV show. The Officer looked around him until he saw the person he was looking for. "You Jordan Myers? You've been reported missing and then reported kidnapped. This gentleman," he nodded at Jerome, "came forward with some different information. You got your ID?" Jordyn had no clue where his driving license was but fortunately Spice had it and handed it over. The Officer scrutinised it. Then he sent a stern glance at Spice and Jerome. They left the room and the officer closed the door behind them. "Take a seat," he said. His voice was deep and stern, just dreamy. Despite everything Jordyn felt the now familiar sensation of his dicklet straining against his cage. The Officer took a chair and pulled it close to Jordyn. So they could speak without being overheard. As he came close Jordyn felt he could sense the Officer's wonderful masculine musk. It made it really hard to concentrate on answering the inevitable questions. Confirming his identity. Stating that it had been his decision to leave home. Stating that he was here of his own free will. Confirming that he had not been forced to do anything. Finally, of course - "So you want me to take you home - to your parents?" "No sir - this is where I belong now, this is my new life." The Officer nodded and tapped his hand on Jordyn's thigh. "Well I figured it'd be something like that. The County people put the call in so we had to check it out. Apparently your Mom knew how things were but your Dad just couldn't believe it. He was keen to speak with you..." Jordyn was pretty sure that he was. He could just imagine it. The sermon, the rage, the abuse. He considered his response. "I'm happy to talk with them but they have to accept who I am and they'd have to address me by my real name. BoiFagBarbie." That was never going to happen. He knew that and he knew the Officer would too. He waited for a response. The Officer just stood up and laughed. He opened the door to let the others back into the room and to signal the end of the official interview. "OK - well I've got all I need for the report. Nobody is missing and nobody has been kidnapped. The subject has left home voluntarily and is living with a trans sex-worker. There is no coercion and the subject is believed to be active in local homosexual activities. Like I say that's all I need." He stood up and nodded to Jerome before leaving. Jordyn let out a huge sigh of relief. "He was, um, OK." Jerome let out his low mirthless laugh. "Hardly surprising." Spice had been spooling through a certain movie on her phone. She paused it and then showed the frozen picture to Jordyn. It was him! The Officer wasn't in uniform of course, in fact he was in a leather harness, but it was certainly him and he was obviously enjoying fucking BoiFagBarbie's cum-filled hole. The image made Jordyn feel horny and also proud. "Any news on our boi?" Jerome's voice, honed on decades of cigarettes, was directed at Spice. She shook her head. "Well - it's still early yet." Jerome clapped his hands once. Jordyn clicked seamlessly into BoiFagBarbie mode. He stripped off his clothes and knelt down on the sofa with his rear end sticking out and wiggling enticingly. Jerome inspected the little faggot's money-maker. Amazing how these young holes could bounce back. He lubed a finger and gently applied it. BoiFagBarbie signed with pleasure. Jerome felt that perfect little boi-hole relax to let him in and then tighten as if it was milking his finger. The little slut was a natural for sure. More to the point his hole was ready for use again. Jerome withdrew his finger and only for a moment paused to enjoy that perfect bubble booty swaying for him. Then he lubed up the object in his other hand. A nice thick butt-plug with an enamelled biohazard symbol visible when it was inserted. The boi grunted and moaned a little while Jerome was getting it in but that hole was made for good big objects. Cocks, plugs, fists, whatever - BoiFagBarbie had the makings of a fine young size pig. "Feel good?" Jerome's voice rasped into Jordyn's ear once the plug was fully inserted "Yes sir - really good sir." It did - it felt REALLY good. No pain at all once he'd had the initial stretch - just a wonderful fullness. Just like when Jerome and Wolf had double-fucked him. "Clothes on," instructed Jerome. Spice scampered off to find something and returned with the collar. Black leather with 'BoiFagBarbie' picked out in silver letters. She attached it around Jordyn's neck and then Jerome clipped a leash onto the collar. "Now we're ready," said Jerome and he led his little boi-slut out of the apartment. ***