All Activity

Do you think that had circumstances been different, you guys would have ended up in a long-term relationship?

Fantastic - I was younger - my Uncle and his BEST Friend teaching me about Life - videos - Guys and Girls loves giving Blow Jobs -I was 1 of the Big Boys - seems like I was in a neighborhood young males by Family Members or later on Strangers enjoy Teaching us about SEX !

Love your Profile - RAW the only way - Exciting - Doing It - Can Not Resisted - Gang Bangs - getting High - more the BETTER - Looking for POZ Cocks !

@viking8x6 can you advise why comments on the block are not allowed? Just curious if I did something wrong. I'd appreciate people having the ability to comment.

Hugs!!!

When I was younger I had a friend that would sleep over all the time. One night we had some alcohol and got pretty buzzed. I fell asleep with my head right at the edge of the bed and woke up to something touching my lips. The room was really dark but my eyes were adjusted enough to see it was my friends cock. I was pretty freaked out at first but just kept acting like I was sleeping. I let him slowly part my lips and work his cock in my mouth. He started going a little deeper with every thrust. I let him slowly fuck my mouth with his whole cock until he started cumming and I swallowed it all. This was just the beginning of many many more times to come. I started enjoying getting my throat fucked and acting like I didn't know.

I’m a professional mistress looking for submissive slave to dominate and give some special tasks to do…. I’m into Domination, chastity cage ,Bondage, Spanking, Role Playing, feminization ,CBT,anal,bondage,joi,cei,cum,edging, sissy training pegging ,Fetishes, sissification,eminization,Blindfolding, Experimenting with Sex toy Text me on telegram : Mistressjessica5122 Kik me : misjessicahm512 Teams: hoh391453@gmail.com Zangi number -1015610752

All right!! Part 1 is now published. I believe it has to go through moderation. But it's there. In addition, I would love feedback on the Author's note (which gives some back story about the characters that is important to know). I'll be posting the "Writing Guidelines" I used later today after I complete my final edit.

It was late spring 2010 in Seattle. I was 31 at the time, 5’10”, 170lbs, athletic and fit and a very active and competitive cyclist. I was in great shape physically and mentally. I kept myself very well groomed – cropped haircut that looked both professional and casual, clean shaven. I dressed like a modern professional at work, and an early 30s modern gay in my downtime. I had a beautiful condo overlooking Lake Union, and close connections with friends and family. I looked very much like the boy next door who had grown up and into a successful career after his time at university and lived a comfortable city life. I worked along with 130,000 other people, and a large percentage of other Seattle gays at one of Seattle’s largest companies. “The Company” Because so many of the Seattle gay social scene worked at my company and a couple others, it meant we drank, dated, partied, clubbed, fucked, and socialized with many of the same people inside and outside of work. Everyone knew everyone, or knew someone who had slept with someone who had once dated someone…and someone always knew something about someone who had once dated the person you were interested in. There were entire blogs written by gay Seattle under pseudonyms sharing the juicy details about events or parties of all kinds, or take-down sites that shared rumors to avenge a grudge. It was Gossip Girl, Gay Seattle style. Appearance wise and professionally, I was a catch. I was involved in the gay social circles, but I was also somewhat of a pariah. By this time in 2010, I had been out of the closet for nearly two decades (15 years) and had had more bareback sex than probably fifty of the people I knew combined. I hooked up regularly with people off Craigslist and frequented Club Z and Basic Plumbing. I was known for liking “dirty” things like wearing harnesses, using dildos, and piss. Over the course of the years, all of this had become part of my persona that people talked about with everyone else but me. I honestly didn’t really care. There was nothing I could do to erase what they believe they knew, and regardless of how they got their information about me, a lot of it was true. But that didn’t mean they liked it. It did make any attempts at dating futile. Despite being adamantly against condom-sex and having a strong appetite for non-“vanilla” sex, first dates for me often involved overcoming rumors and perceptions. “Do you really bareback?” “You go to Club Z, isn’t that place just all people with HIV doing drugs?” I wasn’t even positive at this point. First dates spent explaining these things are a clear indicator things aren’t going to work. So I focused on what I knew I did well and really liked doing…sex. My kind of sex. I was still active socially, but instead of accepting date invites or asking guys out, I’d go home and cook dinner, find some dick on Craigslist, get a load, and go to sleep………… ----------------------------- I hadn't met Ethan before, and we didn't have any work interaction at "the company.” I would come to find out that we also had very few friends in common, which was a rare thing for those that were gay in Seattle AND worked at the company. We were both asked by our separate organizations to work on a special cross-company project along with several others and started having daily multi-hour project meetings and working sessions that would last past dinnertime. I thought he was attractive, and we didn’t need to tell each other we were gay. We were as flirty as you can be in a professional environment in front of colleagues by our second day on the project. Ethan was a presence. He was 6’4” or 5” – muscular but still had a softness to his lines and contours. His arms were muscly. He had a trim waste, big chest, big butt and thighs. He had a cropped haircut of very dark almost black hair. He had a great smile filled with shocking white teeth contrasting with his light but still olive complexion. He dressed like a well dressed Italian – fitted shirts and polos, expensive jeans and fitted pants. He was funny and told amazing jokes, was polite and kind with his words. He had the type of confidence that you love to see in people…not ever bordering on arrogant but secure in himself. We hit it off and at the end of the second week of the project, we decided to drive back to the city and go have a drink. The palpable sexual energy grew while he rubbed my leg while sitting next to each other on bar stools. At the end of round one he had migrated his hand all the way to right between my legs and underneath my balls and we had kissed briefly. We drove back to his place and had really amazing sex. Ethan had a really nice dick – big enough to be notable compared to others. It was like the perfect dick. It was a Goldilocks dick. I didn’t give a shit about where we were going as a couple but I’m going to do everything to remain friends… He had been behind me eating my hole and then suddenly there was lube slathered across my hole. He moved very quickly and the very next thing I knew, his dick was pushing against the center of my hole playfully. And then in one aggressive and committed move, he pushed his dick all the way in and kept pushing until my hole was wrapped around the base of his dick. I moaned and squirmed a bit – that was not a typical maneuver for most tops so it was completely unexpected. He settled into a normal rhythm of fucking me, occasionally smacking my ass, and occasionally pulling his dick all the way out and shoving it back in. I could feel my hole being worked and stretched and I was moaning and asking him for more. Over probably 25 minutes, he came three times back-to-back inside of me. I could feel each one as his dick twitched and he gave extra power to thrust deep inside me to bury his load. He eventually pulled out and before I could move from my hands and knees position to lay down, he started working my hole with his fingers. Before I knew it he had all five fingers in my hole and was working to get his hand deeper inside me. He kept going for over 10 minutes until I was comfortable up to the widest part of his hand. He continued to work but after many minutes of this we stopped, both of us exhausted. We collapsed side by side. “That was fucking awesome. It was fucking hot being inside you.” “Damn dude, that was one helluva fuck! I can’t believe you came three times!” “It’s a curse. Even when I jerk off I cum multiple times! So, I fucked you raw. Sorry about that. I’m not a condom guy. I’m negative and don’t have any STDs.” “Dude, I only fuck without a condom. It’s fine with me. Me too on the test results. I want you to do that when we fuck again!” He grabbed my hand and rolled to his side to look at me. We both looked like two gays who just had amazing sex. A sheen of sweet across our bodies, hair disheveled, smiling. “So no condoms. Yeah, I really hate them. I know it’s not a popular opinion but…ah well! I got a lot of unpopular opinions. I don’t share them all that much because Seattle gays are so fucking judgy!” We talked a bit about the Seattle gay scene and being part of it, but also outsiders as well. We had a real connection in that way. “So what else do you like to do…like…in terms of sex and fucking?” We talked for about an hour about all the things we had in common sexually and shared some interesting stories from our past. We got a long great on a multitude of levels……………………….. ----------------------------- Over the next several weeks, we continued to hook up but I wouldn’t say either of us thought of it as dating. In fact, frequently we’d get together after the gym after work, fuck, and then go out to sushi or a restaurant after. It was effortless. We had an obvious attraction for each other, but we were not forcing things in to a “dating” or “relationship” box. We hooked up at work a few times – I’d go to his building or he’d come to mine, or we’d meet somewhere on campus. He’d also occasionally send me “dares” via instant message. “I dare you to piss in a coffee cup and then carry it around with you to meetings for the rest of the day” or “Go jerk off in the bathroom on to your hand and send me a picture of you eating it.” I completed all of the dares. It was nice to have a friend I had things in common with that I could be myself around and also have great sex with……………………………………………… ----------------------------- About three months after our first “date,” the company announced a special “bonus” for all employees – a full week paid week off. Different organizations would have different weeks, but Ethan and I would come to find out that our organizations had the same week assigned for our bonus week. We hadn’t talked the week prior to the “bonus week” because I think everyone was scrambling to get stuff done so we could enjoy the time off. I had planned on staying home, doing projects around the house, seeing family…. just relaxing. That became boring by Saturday mid-day when I got a call from Ethan. “What are you up to?” It was a beautiful late spring day, blue skies, warm but not hot. He invited me over to his house to have some drinks outside on the deck. He had a beautiful hose overlooking the water. I started to change clothes and was about to leave but stopped at the door and decided I should douche just in case. I didn’t think this was a bootie call but it’s better to be prepared than sorry. I got to Ethan’s and he opened the door and he walked towards me, wrapped his big arms around me, and lifted me off the ground and spun around on his front porch. He was in a very good high energy mood, and it was palpable. He made some vodka sodas and after a few rounds, shooting the shit, we both had a nice buzz. He came back with one more around and after setting them down walked behind my chair and started squeezing my shoulders repeatedly. His touch was firm and penetrating, but not painful. My body was already tingling. He then reached over further and ran both his hands down the front of my torso, continuing his hand all the down until he reached the waist of my jeans. The pressure of his hands was again firm and penetrating and I felt amazing. My dick was rock hard and I wanted nothing else but to get naked and climb on to his dick. He stood back up and walked to his chair and sat down, looking over at me. “I really like that we can talk about all the things we talk about. I don’t get to do that with many people. They’re either freaked out, intimated, scared, or part of the ‘safe only’ crowd.” I could relate. “Trust me, I get it. I don’t even get to talk about stuff like this because half the time, people have already heard about me from someone else.” “So, you really like…?” (he listed out a bunch of the stuff we had talked about) “Yeah, really, I do. I wish I had more of it. Sometimes it’s hard enough to find someone to fuck without a condom, let alone piss on you…as an example.” “Totally. I just keep being up front about it and fuck the judgy assholes………so………how do you feel about like bondage, restraints, gags, things like that. I know we talked a little about it but are you in to it?” I told him how I had restraints, harnesses, gags, restraints myself but only rarely used them during longer fuck sessions. Ethan told me he liked using them as often as possible. “Can I show you something? Come with me and take a look at this.” We entered the house and walked into the living room. Tucked in to an alcove you wouldn’t see unless you stood in the living room (which I’d not done on previous visits) was this MASSIVE black trunk. It appeared to be covered in leather, had silver hardware and handles, and was just massive in size. At least two people could sit inside. Covered with embossed black leather with silver hardware and handles, filling the entire width of the alcove and approximately 4 feet tall. It was massive. It was a beautiful statement piece and was strangely very different than the rest of the furniture I’d seen at his house. “That thing is huge. Where did you get it?” He had purchased it when a famous hotel in New York had closed several years prior. It was one of the statement pieces they had in their lobby. He opened the trunk. I was speechless and stood there with my hand raised to cover my mouth, eyes wide trying to take in everything in front of me. Inside, and very neatly organized, were an array of all things “sex” - dildos, buttplugs, anal beads. All types of restraints and harnesses, ball gags, different types of rope, chains, locks. There was a thing I would learn was called "the humbler" which looked like a symmetrical paddle with a hole in the middle. There was some plastic tubing and a box shaped “bucket.” Nipple clamps, cockrings, ball stretchers. There was a control panel with dials and a cord next to a ziplock bag of smaller cords which I assumed had to be some fancy eStim device. It wasn't just like he had one of some of these items, he had multiple. And it was so meticulously organized. You probably couldn't go into a sex store and find as much inventory. We were standing side by side and he grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. “Whadya thing?” He seemed genuinely excited to show it to me and hear my response. My eyes were wide because I was taking it all in, I had a grin on my face. I was impressed and said so to Ethan: "This is really fucking impressive. You have like EVERYTHING! And it's all so organized. All my gear is in a duffle back in the closet and every time you want anything you have to dump the whole bag out and scrounge around on the floor just to find a cockring! I'm jealous!" "Don't be jealous! (he switched gears really quick) I thought maybe we could carve out some time to work on our deliverables sometime this week even though we're not working. What do you have going on this week...anything?" "Not a damn thing - I don't want to do anything that I thought I would tackle so I'm probably just gonna watch TV and play XBOX." "So no family anything, no dates, no meet ups with friends?" (I remember thinking he was asking for a lot of specificity but it didn't alarm me...Ethan was a business analyst so his job is to probe for details. But the change in focus from sex toys to my week-off schedule was abrupt. In retrospect, I understood his interest for my full week’s schedule.) "Nope!" "Cool, well, you wanna have some fun and play with some of this shit. You cool with a little Dom/Sub action? I'll be the Dom since you don't know what half this shit is probably." "Fuck yeah! This is hot as fuck. Are you gonna fuck me full of cum again too? I want some more of that." "Hell yeah, trust me, you'll get plenty of cum." (to be continued .... as of the date of publication 12/27/2025 - 22 additional Parts have been written with a plan for 18 more)

Yes. I go fairly often and hope to be there tomorrow 28th

I want to be whored out like this so bad anyone in phoenix down to be my lookout and get tops on the apps?!!

The motel's parking lot was a sea of cracked asphalt under the harsh glare of sodium lamps, the air thick with the hum of distant traffic and the stale scent of rain-soaked dumpsters. Jake, barely 19 and hailing from a nowhere town where dreams went to die, had scraped together bus fare on a whim, chasing whispers of quick money in the city. The online ad had promised 'discreet companionship gigs—no experience needed.' He'd figured it meant posing for photos or light flirting, not this. His palms sweated as he clutched the room key, the brass tag for Room 12 biting into his skin. Inside, the space was a time capsule of despair: yellowed walls with water stains blooming like bruises, a lumpy queen bed sagging under its own weight, and a bathroom door that hung crooked on rusted hinges. Jake paced, his sneakers scuffing the threadbare rug, rehearsing lines in his head. He was slim, boyish—5'9" with tousled brown hair, clear skin, and wide blue eyes that screamed innocence. Tight jeans hugged his narrow hips, and a simple white tee clung to his flat chest. The wired half-payment sat heavy in his pocket, a reminder that backing out wasn't an option. The knock came at exactly 9 PM, sharp as a gunshot. Jake's stomach twisted. He cracked the door, peeking out before swinging it wide. There stood Marcus, a wall of a man at 6'3", his frame packed with muscle from years of manual labor and gym sessions. Late 30s, with a square jaw shadowed by dark stubble, cropped black hair, and eyes like chipped emeralds—cold, calculating. He wore a fitted black polo that strained across his pecs and cargo pants that did nothing to hide the bulge snaking down his thigh. A faint scar ran along his left cheek, adding to the air of quiet menace. "You Jake?" Marcus's voice rumbled, deep and edged with authority, as he shouldered past without invitation, the door thudding shut behind him. "Y-yeah," Jake stammered, locking it out of habit. "Marcus, right? Make yourself comfortable. There's... uh, water or chips if you want." Marcus's laugh was low, predatory, echoing off the thin walls. He dropped a duffel bag by the bed and turned, sizing Jake up like prey. "Cut the small talk, boy. I didn't drive two hours for snacks. You read the profile? Know what I expect?" Jake nodded too quickly, cheeks burning. The messages had been vague—'mutual fun, safe play'—but the cash had blinded him. "Sure. We can ease into it. Maybe talk first?" Marcus closed the distance in two strides, his cologne—a mix of leather and spice—overwhelming the room's mustiness. He grabbed Jake's wrist, yanking him close. "Talk's for shrinks. Strip. Now. Or I walk, and you keep that half-payment as a lesson." Jake's breath hitched, but he complied, fingers fumbling with his shirt buttons. It fell open, exposing pale skin unmarked by anything but a faint freckle trail across his collarbone. He toed off his sneakers, then shoved down his jeans, stepping out in plain gray boxers that tented slightly from nerves and unwanted arousal. Marcus watched, unblinking, then peeled off his own polo, revealing a torso carved from stone—broad shoulders, ripped abs dusted with coarse hair that arrowed down to his waistband. "Kneel," Marcus commanded, voice dropping an octave. He unbuckled his belt with deliberate slowness, the leather whispering through loops. Jake sank to his knees, the rough carpet scraping his shins. The zipper's rasp was deafening in the silence. Marcus hauled out his cock—monstrous, at least ten inches of girthy meat, veins bulging like ropes, the uncut head already flushing purple and leaking a fat bead of precum. It bobbed heavily, slapping against his palm as he stroked it to full hardness. "Open wide, rentboy," Marcus said, gripping Jake's hair and tilting his head back. The cockhead smeared across his lips, salty and musky, forcing Jake's mouth apart. He pushed in, the thickness prying his jaw to its limit, filling his mouth until his cheeks bulged. Jake gurgled, eyes watering as he tried to accommodate. His tongue pressed flat against the underside, tasting the bitter tang of skin and arousal. Marcus didn't wait, thrusting forward to bury half his length, the head bumping his tonsils. "Suck harder. Use that tongue like you mean it." Jake hollowed his cheeks, slurping messily as he bobbed, saliva bubbling at the corners of his lips. Marcus's hips rocked, fucking his face with increasing force—short jabs that made Jake choke, throat convulsing around the invading shaft. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the drool that dripped onto his chest. "Gag on it, boy. Choke like the slut you are," Marcus growled, yanking Jake's hair to control the depth. The room reeked of sweat and sex, wet glucks punctuating each plunge. Minutes stretched into agony, Jake's jaw aching, lips numb. Marcus finally withdrew with a pop, strings of spit connecting them. His cock glistened, throbbing angrily. "Bed. Ass in the air. Time to earn the rest." Jake crawled onto the mattress, knees sinking into the thin padding, heart hammering. He'd fooled around before—a fumbling handjob in a dorm, a quick suck in an alley—but nothing like this beast. Marcus rummaged in his bag, pulling out lube and a condom packet. He slicked his fingers, then knelt behind Jake, who was on all fours, boxers yanked down to his thighs. "Ever taken it up the ass?" Marcus asked, one rough finger circling Jake's virgin pucker. "N-not really," Jake admitted, voice muffled in the pillow. Marcus snorted. "Tight little hole. Gonna ruin you." He shoved a finger in dry first, ignoring the yelp, twisting it deep. Jake clenched, burning pain flaring, but Marcus added a second, scissoring brutally, stretching the ring without mercy. Lube followed, cold and slick, but the prep was cursory—three fingers pumping fast, hooking to graze the prostate and draw involuntary moans. "Please... go slow," Jake begged, trembling. "Slow's for pussies." Marcus rolled on the condom, the latex straining over his girth, then positioned himself. He gripped Jake's hips with bruising force, nails digging crescents into flesh, and rammed forward. The head breached with a pop, tearing a scream from Jake as inches forced their way in, splitting him open. "Fuck, it's too big! Stop!" Jake clawed at the sheets, body locking up. Marcus didn't. He thrust harder, burying to the balls in one vicious shove. Jake's hole resisted, then gave, a sharp rip of pain as the dry friction caused micro-tears. Blood welled, warm and slick, mixing with lube to ease the slide—but not enough. Marcus pulled back, the condom smeared red, then slammed home again, the bedframe rattling. "Take my cock, you whiny bitch," Marcus snarled, setting a punishing rhythm. Each thrust was a battering ram—deep, grinding, his hips slapping Jake's ass cheeks until they reddened. Jake sobbed, the burn intensifying as blood trickled down his thighs, staining the sheets. His hole pulsed around the shaft, torn and inflamed, every withdrawal tugging at the raw edges. But pleasure twisted in amid the agony, his prostate hammered relentlessly, forcing his cock to leak onto the mattress. "It hurts... oh god, it's bleeding... pull out!" Jake gasped, but his hips bucked back on instinct, chasing the fullness. Marcus laughed, sweat flying as he pounded faster. His balls swung heavy, smacking Jake's taint. He reached around, fisting Jake's dick roughly, jerking it in time—twisting the head, squeezing the base until Jake whined. The room was a cacophony: skin slapping wetly, Jake's cries, Marcus's grunts, the metallic tang of blood in the air. Deeper into the rut, Marcus's control frayed. He hooked an arm around Jake's waist, flipping him onto his back without exiting—legs shoved up, knees to chest, exposing everything. Blood smeared Jake's crack, the hole gaping slightly, puffy and wrecked. Marcus drove in again, the angle brutal, cock spearing straight to the core. Jake's eyes rolled, tears carving paths down his temples. "Look at you, bleeding for my dick. Pathetic." Marcus spat on his chest, then leaned down to bite Jake's nipple hard, drawing blood there too. His thrusts turned feral, hips pistoning like a machine, the condom's base chafing the torn rim. Jake's protests weakened, body betraying him as orgasm built unbidden. "No... don't... it burns so much..." That's when Marcus struck. Mid-thrust, his fingers pinched the condom's rim, tearing it with a sharp rip. He yanked the shredded latex free, flinging it aside, and plunged back in bare—hot skin sliding through blood and lube, raw and intimate. Jake felt the shift immediately: the loss of barrier, the increased glide, the danger. "What the fuck? The condom—stop! You're not wearing—" Jake thrashed, but Marcus pinned his arms overhead with one massive hand, the other clamping his throat just tight enough to restrict air. "Shut your hole," Marcus hissed, choking him lightly as he fucked harder. The bare cock dragged against every nerve, blood lubricating the assault. Jake's vision blurred, panic surging as he realized the risk—unprotected, this stranger's seed about to flood him. "Please... cum outside... I beg you," Jake wheezed when the hand eased, legs quivering over Marcus's shoulders. Marcus's eyes burned with dark triumph. He was loaded with HIV, viral count raging from skipped meds, and this naive kid was his perfect vector—young, fuckable, forgettable. "Beg all you want. You're getting bred raw." The pace became savage. Marcus hammered down, cock swelling, veins pulsing against Jake's walls. Blood squelched with each plunge, the hole a ruined mess—swollen, torn, leaking crimson trails. Jake's body convulsed, unwanted ecstasy ripping through him as his prostate was abused. He came first, untouched now, spurting ropes across his stomach with a broken cry, ass clenching like a vice. That triggered Marcus. He roared, burying deep, and unleashed. Cum jetted in thick, forceful blasts—hot, viscous, painting Jake's insides white. Pulse after pulse, overflowing the battered channel, mixing with blood to ooze out in pinkish rivulets. Marcus ground in circles, ensuring every drop stayed buried, marking the boy irrevocably. Finally spent, he pulled out with a obscene squelch, a flood of cum and blood following, soaking the bed. Jake curled fetal, sobbing, his ass throbbing in agony, hole twitching and gaping, unable to close. Fresh blood seeped steadily, the tears deep enough to sting with every shift. Marcus stood, cock softening and streaked red, wiping it clean on Jake's discarded shirt. He tossed the remaining cash on the nightstand. "Worth every penny. Clean up that mess—might wanna see a doc for the bleeding. Or don't. Your call, slut." "You... you did that on purpose. The condom... and you're... sick, aren't you?" Jake whispered, horror choking him as the warmth inside turned to dread. Marcus zipped up, smirking. "Who knows? Life's a gamble, kid. Enjoy the ride." He grabbed his bag and left, the door clicking shut like a final nail. Jake lay there for hours, body wrecked, mind fracturing. The clinic call came days later: positive, as expected. Scars lingered—not just the physical ones on his ass, still tender and scarred from the tears, but the invisible kind, twisting his desires into something darker. In the dead of night, fingers would probe the healed but sensitive ring, memories flooding back: the rip, the flood, the inescapable pull. Tricked, raped, infected, bleeding... and hooked.

I want a hotel cumdump just once either the bottom or the top

This is my 1st person account of a set of events and one core event in which I was a primary participant. I think I’ve done a good job at being correct, truthful, and honest, and told the story to the best of my ability in a way that reflects those days in 2010. One week after the core event concluded, Jason (Ethan in the story), Jacob, Alex and I went to dinner to debrief on the experience and make sure we were in a positive space with each other. There was no reason to feel otherwise. We were all happy and hugged as I departed the house at the end of the 6 days. We had a wonderful dinner. I learned that this all came about because Jason had dated Jacob for a while, who had long ago dated Alex – this is how they one day accidentally came together and started talking about this idea. They were all huge BDSM fans and had the skills, money, and organizing skills to pull of something like this. At the dinner, we all had such amazing smiles on our face, we were laughing, and smiling, they told me some of the things that hadn’t quite gone to their plan – like the piss party on night which was intended to be invite only but turned in a free-for-all (I didn't know what was supposed to happen one way or the other). Don't worry, The Dominants took care of the situation and things were solved by the next day. I don’t know who said it, but as four intelligent thoughtful introspective gay men sat around a table, someone asked “so, did we learn anything?” I remember responding almost instinctively and saying “I need more time to process that. I learned that when you can’t see, a lot can go on in your head. I built trust with you guys. It’s deeper than that, but I can’t talk about it right now cuz I don’t have the words.” I’m sad I responded that way because I think I mentally shut down thinking about the event ever again in a deeper way, until writing this. I wish I could call Jason, Jacob, and Alex and talk to them so many years later about what they remember, share with them what I’ve written, and reconnect. Sadly, 4 months after that dinner, Jason committed suicide. Underlying the suicide was the tragic and unexpected death of both his mother and father and his untreated depression and other undiagnosed but compounding mental challenges. He was a kind, funny, brilliant, compassionate, multi-faceted sex pig who in that area of life alone, was confidant. He knew his kinks and sexuality were outside of the “norm” and he embraced it and showcased it with pride. I didn’t know until after he died that when I went out with him on that date, my friends were all like “this is either gonna be a match made in heaven, or there gonna kill each other with dildos.” I’m gonna go with heaven. Also sadly, about 2 years after that dinner, Jacob died in a car accident caused by a drunk driver. The day I found this out was the last time I spoke to Alex. He was never a social media person even in those early days, I attempted to find him and have so far not been able to. So, this story will remain mine to tell, and as much as writing this down has given me joy, it reminds me of the loss of three people with whom I share a unique experience of significance in my life. An experience that cannot be duplicated and will never be replaced. For years I have jokingly talked about this experience as a “crazy date” and “the week I got locked in a dog cage” with friends and family. I've talked with gay people and straight people, those within the fringe sex community and those that aren't. Some of my straight friends will say sometimes when referring to a bad experience “at least you didn’t get locked in a dog cage.” In writing this, I recognized how much I had suppressed about the actual experience and much calling the "dog cage date" dramatically oversimplified and even disrespected the time that we shared. I think I have some unaddressed trauma over the loss of two of the three people, and the disappearance and disconnection from the third which occurred shortly thereafter. I’m choosing to tell the story and what that experience taught me and do so in a narrative fashion. I am thankful for Jason, Jacob, and Alex for their thoughtfulness creating this experience and including me. For thinking of what we learn about ourselves in every situation, even if it’s a really charged sexual experience. For keeping me safe, giving me the ability to experience things in a different way than I had ever in the past sexually – even if the activity were the exact same. This is for you, appropriately posted on a site called “Breeding Zone” which seems incredibly fitting – on the edge of sexuality, pushing boundaries, having fun, and always making sure the submissive bottom gets “many many many many loads.” Much love.

Be heaven 💋

MAIN CHARACTERS AND GROUPS The following are the core characters featured within "The Trunk and the Cage." The only people who knew each person in these groups were the Dominants. As shared in the Authors note, two tragically died due to unrelated matters and the third has become reclusive. There may never come a time when the Anonymous Guests or the Randoms will ever be identified. The Dominants I was owned and controlled during the event in the story by three Dominants: my primary, Ethan (“Sir”), as well as Jacob (“Sir” or “Jacob”) and Alex (“Sir”). They were close friends who had all at one point dated one another. The became friends because of a share passion and deep interest in BDSM. One of the speakers talked about to develop your “fantasy scenario” – as a project, with significant detail, planning, and preparation to what one might expect for a Broadway play. They worked collaboratively on this over more than 6 months. Coincidentally, I began dating Ethan during the latter part of their story development and I became a primary recruitment target to play the Submissive role. Ethan ultimately was responsible for recruiting me and securing my consent. The Submissive I was the Submissive referred to at all times as “Boy.” I was a fully submissive human who also behaved and was treated like a trained animal similar to a dog. I had to adhere to certain rules (don’t speak unless spoken to). I had to obey commands (all of these followed the format of “Boy, Down!”). I had to accept every experience without complaint or resistance. I was given various areas of focus throughout the course of the event The Anonymous Guests To amplify the experience and make any lessons or skills more memorable for me, the Dominants identified “anonymous guests” who could, by invitation only, participate nightly parties. These anonymous guests had to adhere to the limits covered under the consent but were otherwise given free reign over me as a temporary Dominant. They pledged confidentiality about the event and its participants. The Dominants are the only ones who knew the identities of the guests, including how and why they were selected. It is unclear whether the Guests knew each other. 5 to 7 (estimate only) Guests were brought to the home each not. It is not clear if it was the same or different group every night. The Randoms Every day at least 2 men would come to the house. I’d be taken from whatever I was doing at the time and positioned on the fuck-bench ottoman so they could fuck me and inseminate me. I do not know the identity of these men, I don’t know how the Dominants found them, and I don’t know how many of them stopped by each day. I believe their purpose was to keep me occupied and lubricated while giving the Dominants an opportunity to reset the house, relax, organize, whatever.

good luck with this. If I were nearer, I'd happily donate some unwanted toys. I'd be boned up knowing my plugs and dildos were stretching out another pig's hole

If you want to know the lead-up to the moment in this story, follow the link below. I got in trouble for posting the beginning of this story in this chat room. Punishment was a bit harsh but I will wear it. I spent the next week thinking about Scout’s dad fucking his wife’s arse, and at football training, I kind of hoped his dad would visit and give me an opportunity to ask him more about it. Scout was still his distant self, so I told myself the best option was to keep treating him the same as the rest of the team. A few weeks had passed, no Scout’s dad and no fucking except for jerking off in the showers. Life was beginning to feel a little mundane. An old mate of mine from my pro football days hit me up, and we decided to go out and have a bloody good time. We kicked things off with a few lines of Coke to get the night rolling, then chilled on the deck with a smoke, beers in hand, before hitting the town’s bars. As midnight neared, we were hopping from pub to pub, deep into the night and feeling more raucous with each drink. We finally found a spot in the CBD to hang back and gather ourselves. My mate started telling me about his thatched roof back home—his wife had just found out he'd been seeing other girls behind her back. I shared a bit of my own past with my ex. He wasn’t exactly surprised; he used to be part of the footy crew that loved a party and a bit of trouble. He even reckoned he saw me eating her out after we all gangbanged her—that time’s stuck with him. Honestly, I sometimes wonder if he might’ve been the one who leaked those pics. We made our way to Collingwood. I think we grabbed an Uber. By this stage, I was fucked up. I drank and sniffed so much coke that time became a bit of a blur. I recall queuing up with my mate, trying to compose myself. My mate was in the same state. Music is pumping in the club, and I’m wondering where the fuck I was? ‘Oi, I know you lot. Used to play for the Rabbitohs, right?’ someone in the line said. ‘Used to, mate,’ my friend muttered. ‘Just so you know, this is a gay club,’ the random bloke added. ‘Fuck me!’ My mate and I burst into laughter. ‘Where the hell have you taken me?’ I asked him. He just laughed. ‘I dunno, mate. No idea how we even ended up here,’ he replied. We reached the front of the line, and the bouncer stopped us. He knew full well that we were too intoxicated, and after the comment from the random in the line, he refused us entry. I reckon because he was concerned we might cause a scene or start a fight if something were to happen. If someone were to try to make a pass at us. ‘I think it is time we call it.’ My mate said as we stood by the side of the road. He waved a taxi down. It pulled up and hopped in the back seat. ‘I’m gonna walk home, mate. I need to sober up.’ ‘Suit yourself.’ And the taxi left. I wandered the streets, having no idea where I was or where I was going. I needed a drink. Water. Something. I walked into a convenience store and walked up to the counter. ‘Where’s the fridge, mate?’ ‘Huh?’ the bloke behind the counter grunted, scratching his head. ‘Just a bottle of water, Ta. Thought I’d grab one while I’m here.’ ‘You’re in a bloody sex shop. We’re selling dildos, not bottles of water.’ I pulled my head in and looked around. I noticed a wall full of porn movies, cabinets full of dildos and all kinds of other sex toys. I had no idea how to describe or could never have envisioned how they would work. There were a couple of mannequins dressed in jockstraps and leather harnesses, which I initially thought were people and a door near the back with pink, purple, blue, and orange strips hanging in the front, waving about in the air, blowing out from behind them. ‘I need to sit down for a moment. Can I just sit?’ ‘Yeah. Out the back.’ The guys smirked. I brushed past the colourful strips into a dark and dim hallway. There was a faint beat to the low-level music. As I drew further in, the sound was soon drowned out by moaning and humping. The air had a dense, stale smell. Almost like cigarettes and a dirty men’s bathroom, but slightly different. Slightly mixed with the smell of sex. I entered a room lit only by a large screen at the far end and sat down. I must have dozed off. I slowly came to. Woken by a strange feeling on my cock. I opened my eyelids to find a man around my age sucking on my hard cock. ‘Fuck!’ I pushed him off my cock ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ ‘Wow. Sorry mate. I thought you were enjoying it. Seemed like it. You are rock hard.’ He was right. My cock was hard. But shit. I was out of it. I didn’t realise I was even getting a blow job. And from a guy from that matter. ‘Dude. I’m not gay.’ The guy sat next to me. He seemed a little puzzled, then pointed to the screen. ‘You realise you are in a gay cruise club.’ I looked at the screen to find two masculine blokes fucking. One guy with swimsuit tan lines on his arse bent over with another muscular guy fucking him from behind. ‘Jesus! How’d I get here?’ ‘Beats me, mate. But you are here.’ Every inch of my mind was telling me to get up and leave. But for some reason, I keep looking at the screen. Watching… Admiring the good-looking guys fucking. They reminded me of the lads from the football team I coach. I moved my hand to my cock and began to massage it. For a moment, I forgot the guy sitting next to me, then he caught my eye when he pulled out some glass pipe and a lighter. I turned to watch him heat the bulb at the end and smoke from it. He noticed I was watching. ‘Want to try some?’ He said as he exhaled a white cloud from his mouth. ‘What is it?’ ‘Think of it as a pick-me-up.’ ‘What? Like cocaine?’ ‘Even better. It will get you super horny.’ I figured, why the hell not? I had been partying all night, and I was already feeling a little horny from watching what was happening on the screen. I figured it might help me relax and not be so nervous about what I was watching. I grabbed the pipe, followed the guy's lead, heated the bulb at the end, and smoked. ‘Keep breathing in. Don’t stop.’ I didn’t. It was a rush of adrenaline that hit me from head to toe. I slowly exhaled and repeated the action. ‘There you go.’ I felt an instant need to fuck. I wanted to fuck. But I wasn’t going to fuck a guy. No way. But I didn’t mind watching the gay porn playing on the screen. So, I sat back and jerked for a while. ‘Enjoy your night, mate. I’d suggest exploring the club. You might be surprised.’ He hinted at me and walked off. Interested in what he suggested, I explored deeper into the dark venue. The intense stale smell got stronger the deeper I went. I had not realised how many people were in there. Men… Only men. My mind widened to who I was noticing. First, and most present were young guys, clearly drunk or high, then there were the really old men. Wrinkly, scaly, one had his shirt off, sitting on a bench, fiddling with his tiny dick. But then I noticed clean-looking guys, one in a suit sitting in a booth and a guy on his knees sucking his cock. Guys were at different stages of undress, but what caught my attention were those wearing leather harnesses or just walking around in jockstraps. One particular guy got my attention. He was large and burly, with a big, hairy belly, leaning against the entrance to a booth, wearing boots, jeans, a thick leather belt with a heavy-looking buckle, and a leather harness crisscrossing his large, hairy chest. His eyes locked onto mine, and he lifted a cigar to his lips. As he sucked, the end lit up, giving me a little bit of light to see his long, scruffy beard, then blew out the smoke, which I caught a whiff of as I walked past him. He stayed locked on me the whole time. I could hear the sound of moaning in the distance, the ruffling of what sounded like a large group of men and a hint of a thumping noise. The moaning didn’t sound normal, almost like a drunken, painful noise. Curious, I followed it to a dark room with just a sliver of light peeking through from the gay porn playing on a large screen over the other side of the wall. I walked in. It was crowded. Guys cramped in there, all facing the same direction. I could sense the rhythm of men jerking themselves, and in the middle, a figure getting fucked. I weaved my way in closer; my eyes began to adjust to the dim light. I made my way near the middle and bumped into who the guy was fucking. I was shocked at first. I couldn’t believe what I just walked into. A guy with his face and chest planted into a low, small bench big enough for only one person, while on his knees, spread wide and arse in the air, and a guy fucking him from behind. I was frozen in my state of surprise, but shocked that my instincts weren’t that of disgust. Instead, I felt my cock throbbing in my pants. ‘I’m not gay,’ I kept telling myself. Light kept flickering through. I caught glimpses of the men in the room. Some were young, fit, but most, in fact, I reckon nearly all of them were old men. Some seem like respectable older men, like the fella I saw in the hall wearing a suit, but most look weathered and gaunt. Cocks were out, guys were jerking themselves, and they all had one thing on their mind: to watch this guy face-plant in the bench getting railed. ‘Fuck, yeah. I’m cumming.’ The guy fucking moaned out. ‘Yeah. Give him your load.’ Some said in the crowd ‘Dump in him.’ Said another, somewhere in the back. The guy fucking jittered, and his fucking shortened to quick jabs as he unloaded on the guy. He slipped out as he wiped the sweat off his brow. I couldn’t believe what I just watched. I couldn’t believe that I had a rock-hard boner in my pants from it. And just as I thought the show was over, another guy moved in behind the guy. This guy was much older with a long, solid cock, and he just pushed in balls deep and started fucking. The original guy who just unloaded his cum on the guy disappeared into the crowd. All the while, the guy being fucked, moaned and grunted. It was hard to tell whether he liked it or was in agony. This was all too much. I was peaking from what I had smoked earlier and was uncontrollably horny. I unzipped my pants, pulled them halfway down my hairy thighs and grabbed a hold of my cock and jerked away like the rest of the guys in there. The light flickered again, and I could see a glimpse of the guy with his arse in the air getting fucked with his face planted into the bench. I was surprised by how young the guy was; he couldn’t have been more than 19, with sandy blonde hair and a nice physique. Kinder reminded me of Scout. As the light flickered across his face, I noticed that he seemed semiconscious. He was kinder awake, but not. His eyes were kinder open, and from what I could see, they seemed to roll to the back of his head. ‘He took a fuck load of G.’ Some leaned in and murmured into my ear. G, that was the stuff the gang of blokes gave my ex-wife when they gangbanged her. The guy who murmured into my ear moved a little brown bottle up to his nose and took a huge sniff up each nostril. He must have noticed I was watching and offered it to me. ‘What is it?’ I whispered. ‘You’ll thank me after.’ I took the bottle and followed his lead. Instantly, the already pulsing meth in my system that had me horny as fuck, elevated to a whole new level. I felt an instant rush through my body. I was gone. My concerns about my sexuality evaporated, and I was completely hooked on what I was watching. I jerked furiously. The young man with his head planted on the bench was only centimetres away from me. I watched his body being thumped to the rhythm of the old man fucking him in the arse. Every time the light flickered on his face, my cock throbbed just a little harder. The guy next to me passed his brown bottle to me again. I took another two big sniffs up each nostril. The rush hit me again. My brain buzzed. ‘What is this?’ I whispered. ‘Poppers, mate.’ I needed to get some of it for myself. ‘Fuck yeah, boy. You’re about to get my seed.’ The guy fucking yelled out. ‘Yeah! Breed him.’ Someone in the crowd followed. ‘Get him pregnant.’ Another said. Get him pregnant? I laughed to myself. How funny. He is a boy. The guys fucking started to moan and held onto the boy’s hips tight. He was cumming. He must have had a huge load, because he was in that position for a while. He pulled out, and another stepped up and pushed his cock into the boy, who moaned. ‘Fuck. How many guys have fucked him?’ I whispered again. ‘Since I have been here. I have watched 8 guys fuck and breed him.’ ‘8 guys. What?! And he knows who these guys are?’ ‘Nah mate. He is a cumdump. He doesn’t know who is fucking him. He is only here as a hole for strangers to use and breed.’ The thought of this young boy, no more than 19 years old, completely high on G, getting fucked without any protection by strangers, while semiconscious, was too much for me, and I lost control. I jerked really fast, and I felt my orgasm rise. I moaned out loud, followed by a torrent of cum shooting all over the back of the boy’s head, the side of his face and his shoulder blades. My cumming must have set off a chain reaction. I heard another guy in the dark moan, and through the glimpse of light, I saw a large cock hovering just over the boy’s head, being jerked off and ejaculating all over the boy’s face, mixed with my load. I woke up to a hand tapping me on the shoulder. ‘Dude. It is closing time.’ My eyes sprang open. Static on the large monitor. My pants were down to my ankles, my soft, crusty cock flopped over my thigh. The guy from the counter was standing over me. ‘Clearly you had a good time.’ I must have passed out. I had no idea how long I had been slumped in the chair like this. I stumbled to my feet, pulling my pants back up and left. I showered, my mind flickering through what I watched the night before. I kept telling myself that I am no faggot, and it was the drugs that made me think and feel the way I felt. But the young lad taking dick after dick and never seeing who they were kept springing to the front of my mind, and I was raging hard. I jerked off in the shower and sprayed my load across the tiled wall. ‘Fuck’, I thought. ‘What the fuck is wrong with me?’ I had to do something about it. Let me know what you think. And tell me what you think happens next.

There TEASER excerpts where published on December 27, 2026.

my route to success was: the small and medium of these: [think before following links] https://www.johnthomastoys.co.uk/product-page/john-thomas-the-ripper-platinum-silicone-stretcher-1 an inflatable dildo and a pig tunnel. it took nearly 2 years (I mostly top) having stretching sessions on average 2-3 times a week. I would have tried more often, if I was able. You're gonna have fun: a fat, sexy as fuck PA and an abused, looser hole.

Here is a link to the blog landing page. The "about the story" content has been published.

It looks like this link to the last Excerpt didn't publish. Here you are: