verbalBTTM

On 11/28/2025 at 1:40 PM, loadgiver said:

.If you ever notice you're sandwich artist has red eyes and stains on his uniform, maybe I was there, or maybe there are others like me.

I envisioned a man with his faced obscured by the sun, his arms crossed, and a cape fluttering in the breeze. A gay superhero 

47 minutes ago, BritishCumdump said:

Hmm that's a good idea, some kind of counter for how many fists and loads I've taken so far so guys know it's fine to add another one. Sadly even perma-marker seems to wipe off with enough friction and lube 😅

Alcohol based markers should last for at least a good 3 days 

On 12/26/2025 at 8:17 PM, BritishCumdump said:

I mean you'd think! But still guys feel they need to ask. I guess it is weird and a bit rapey for guys to just come up and slide their dick or fist in someone so I get why they'd hold off until they got a specific signal, I just love the feeling when a guy takes what he wants and knows you won't stop him. 

You could have a number marking on your backside with a marker tied to a string fastened to your collar. 

3 hours ago, versmetropig said:

I know it's been a few years since this was posted, but I just stumbled on it and found it both hot and amusing... so, weird. I'm choosing all fictional characters:

1. Gul Dukat, Cardassian (ST: Deep Space 9)

2. Captain Shran, Andorian (ST: Enterprise)

The pink-skin wants the spoon-head, fraken Cardi lover

A man dedicated to his craft, worthy of praise 

3 hours ago, Marlin said:

I'm sure this topic has been discussed before but as I get older...I'm in my 60's I'm feeling a bit guilty playing with guys 40 years younger than me.  I have been playing with two mid twenty guys for a while and the sex is great. Passionate, sexy, even a little kinky and always raw. They are just fuck buds but should I feel guilty?  Is it creepy?

Not creepy at all, when I was 27 I had a Dom in his 60's and it was amazing. Boys look to older men for the love and mentorship they offer. I'm currently with a boy in his early 20's and loves how we spend time making dinner together. The time we share is more intimate, and personal compared to what his peers offer. 

Absolutely, nothing better 

On 12/21/2025 at 12:15 PM, amsterdampaul said:

Love the JFF BB fuck vids from XXLRodry in london
[think before following links] [think before following links] https://justfor.fans/XXLRodry

Just beautiful 

4 hours ago, LewdBBoy said:

It has always been such a fun thing to see! Well-trained holes being able to take a fist or two. Older experienced guys praising other older or younger guys for taking it so well. It's a dream of mine to get to that point, but I never have time to use my ass like I want so my hole is super tight. One day though!

When I started fisting it was a long and slow process. Took a while to find a buddy that I was comfortable playing with. We started with toys of course, which inspired me to increase the size of my collection. After a year of irregular play we were fisting each other, and it was fucking amazing. Take your time, and find a good communicative play buddy that is versatile. You learn as much from topping as well as bottoming.

1 hour ago, Spermchute said:

I was gang bred by 5 black guys during Caribana in Toronto at a Days Inn about 8 years ago and I’ll never forget that night. 

Who would forget getting bred by 5 guys

If a bottom doesn't like your body hair then he should move on to someone else. Men aren't Ken dolls perfectly groomed for visual preference of others. 

welcome to the bottoming club, are you hooked?

23 minutes ago, backpackguy said:

Looking forward to a sequel and/or spin offs starring our new fags!🧑‍🦰🕳️🍆💦💦☣️☣️😈🔥🐽🐷

Up next will be the training 

Sunday, June 27, 1993, 01:42 PM

 

Back in our pack’s room, I start to dress, the weight of my new identity settling over me like a second skin. The Omega’s voice cuts through, low and commanding. “Why don’t we start a little training now, faggot?” Before the watchful eyes of the pack, he barks, “Position one.” His tone laced with authority as he fastens a leash to my collar pulling it taught. I drop to my knees without hesitation, the room shrinking under his presence of command. His hand moves with calculated precision, delivering sharp, controlled slaps to my face with his cock, each one a reminder of his dominance. Slowly, he guides himself into my mouth, my submission absolute. My hands grip his thighs, feeling the raw power coursing through him as he swells, claiming the space between us.

 

I work his shaft slowly, eyes locked on his, seeking approval. A flicker of enjoyment in his gaze spurs me on. The Alpha steps forward, pressing a bottle of poppers to my nostril. I inhale deeply, the sharp scent igniting my senses, heightening my desire. My slobber drips from my bottom lip as I redouble my efforts, driven by a primal need to please.

 

Mentor presses my head into the Omega’s crotch, choking out phlegm as tears stream down my face. The Alpha offers poppers again, growling, “Choke harder, faggot,” as the Omega’s hands merge with Mentor’s, their domination absolute. The Beta snaps a belt across my ass, ordering position two. Without hesitation, I grip the Omega's sides tighter, bracing myself as poppers fuel my further ascent into surrender.

 

Mentor and Alpha work in tandem, their fingers—one, then two—probing and stretching me open with deliberate intent. My body yields under their touch, heat rising. Beta steps forward, his thick, uncut Latin cock glistening with spit, and my hole clenches, a wave of lust crashing over me as his saliva slicks my skin. The Alpha urges, “Slut your holes out, faggot, be a good boy.” The Beta kicks my legs apart, driving deeper as I’m thrusted at both ends, poppers pushing me into utter faggotry. The Omega commands, “More tongue, faggot,” parking himself in my throat, relishing my struggle.

 

I work his shaft, staring into his eyes, seeking approval as Mentor spits in my face, his finger digging into my ass alongside the Alpha’s, stretching me for the Beta’s pleasure. My tongue tickles the Omega’s base, my hole clenching to draw the Beta deeper. The Omega’s pulse quickens, his legs tensing as the first spurt releases. I flick my tongue, matching his rhythm, guiding his essence down my throat.

 

His crotch begins convulsing against my face, his balls starting to drain into me, fulfilling my desire for his satisfaction. The Omega grips my head, demanding, “Open your throat, faggot.” Tears well as I obey, trembling under the poppers’ force, my submission absolute. He buries every inch, holding until I can’t breathe, my face blue, tears streaming—a testament to my devotion. The room echoes with my moans, the clap of my cheeks, and the Omega’s climax, my gaze unwavering.

 

As the Beta slaps my ass, his thrusts turn frenzied, signaling his release. “Oh fuck,” he gasps, his final thrust flooding me with his sacred seed. His grip loosens, the other men’s fingers withdraw, and his strength ebbs as he shakes out the last drops, marking me for the weekend. I pump my ass on the Beta’s softening cock, slathering the Omega’s head to complete my service.

 

Sated, I release him, my voice steady with purpose: “I will not allow a drop of my brothers’ seed to touch the earth, sir.” The Omega’s smile mirrors the others’ murmured approval: “Good faggot.” My tongue traces his shaft, reverent, cleansing every trace of my devotion. In this act, I shed my former self, each lick a vow to the eternal bond of this Brotherhood. Mentor’s proud gaze reflects my becoming—a soul forged anew in submission’s fire. Mentor and Alpha pull me aside to rest, praising my effort. “You didn’t quit,” they say, their approval sealing my transformation in this crucible of surrender.

 

Sunday, June 27, 1993, 02:21 PM

 

Searching for the guys, I pass each den’s door, hearing moans and slaps. That sounds like harry—clearly, I’m not the only one getting a send-off. In the living room, I find Master with a drink, reading a book. “May I join you, Sir?” I ask.

 

“Sure,” he says. “What’s on your mind, faggot bindel?”

 

I settle beside him. “I have questions about the weekend.”

 

He nods. “Go ahead”, ass he closes his book.

 

“Why the silence?” I ask.

 

“In the beginning,” he explains, “only I communicate with you to instill my dominance and the Brotherhood’s hierarchy. Once you understood your place—how you submit to all, but a Beta doesn’t submit to an Omega—you began to accept your responsibilities and privileges. You’ll learn more as you grow.”

 

“Why the hoods?” I continue.

 

“The hoods strip away superficial judgments—freckles, features you might reject. Instead, you focus on a man’s capabilities, performance, kindness. They let your animal instincts take over. Get it?”

 

“Yes, Sir,” I reply.

 

“Why no names?”

 

“As a pledge, you didn’t deserve them,” he says. “Now that you’ve embraced us, they’ll be revealed. By the way, I’m Carl Pinkerton, still Master to you, though. Only my husband calls me by name here.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” I say.

 

“Why no clothes?”

 

He smirks. “It’s summer—who needs clothes? That’ll change with the weather, except in the Licentiousness Lounge. No point down there.”

 

harry descends, greets us, and asks, “Where’s faggot worthington?” Moments later, the others trickle downstairs for the ride home. I collect the guys, and we make our way to the car.

 

Sunday, June 27, 1993, 04:20 PM

 

Master pulls us aside, handing each a small gift box. “Open this at home, in private,” he says, wishing us a safe journey. The gates open, and we start down the road. Curiosity wins, and danny opens my box since I’m driving. Inside is a video cassette labeled with my new title, an envelope, and a signet ring. The envelope contains a letter with contact information for my pack and a brief note:

 

“Now that you are one of us, you must be trained as one of us. Your pack will guide your development from this point on; obey them as you would me. You can trust them—they are your brothers. We’ll see you soon. Your password is set as faggot1.

P.S. The ring is worn on your right pinky.”

The ring fits perfectly—how did Master know my size? Maybe that’s why he’s Master.

 

Jokingly, danny and I clank fists, rings gleaming, and chant, “Wonder Faggot powers activate!” harry adds sound effects, while arthur hums the He-Man theme. “Form of a cumdump!” danny declares. “Form of a cock-slut!” I add. Our laughter celebrates our new lives, fitting like a worn-in shoe.

 

 

Sunday, June 27, 1993, 04:33 PM

 

 

 

On the road home, the four of us realize we’ve left something behind—something we don’t want back. Our boyish innocence, fears, hang-ups, and the lies we told ourselves to fit in are gone. We can’t hide from each other anymore; we’ve seen too much. We entered as frightened boys, adrift on life’s currents, and emerged as men, our purpose clear. Duty calls us now.

 

It’s a duty to each other and our brothers, a lifelong adventure just beginning. Like the ad promised, we couldn’t imagine the possibilities then, but now, with childhood’s blinders gone, we step forward with confidence. My brothers are my keepers, as I am theirs. Forever changed, we look to a world of possibilities, our pledges reaffirmed. We’ll return—not as boys, but as men.

 

End of My Genesis

 

12 minutes ago, Spermchute said:

Nice fuck stick 

16 hours ago, Spermchute said:

What ever I’m called, my response is always YES SIR. in the gay world, Topmen are the Boss. Faggots serve. Just the way it is. 

. 

This is correct thinking, pleasure comes from service. The top serves the hole, the bottom serves the cock. 

4 hours ago, Spermchute said:

As a bottom, you are there to ensure the pleasure of the Topman. If calling you a faggot, spitting, slapping increases his pleasure and the power of his orgasm,  you bite the pillow and stfu and when he’s done you say a respectful Thank you. 

I love the word faggot, either calling a sub that, or when subbing myself

10 minutes ago, Hunter22 said:

I try 😉 love laying on my back with my head on the edge of the bed, having a cock face fuck my throat deep and hard, making me drool and my eyes to water, preferably while someone else is pounding my hole!

Spoken like a gentlemen who enjoys serving his fellow man

1 hour ago, Spermchute said:

Topmen- Superior

bottom- faggot 

100% correct sir

14 hours ago, Hunter22 said:

I'm a size queen, my partner is 11" and really thick , I can take him easily down my throat all the way and up my hole with as just a little spit. He's just perfect for me! 

I took some bigger (13" and beer can thick) but it's a bit tricky to get down my throat comfortably, up my hole is a different story, I can easily accept it (or 3 together hehe) 

I'm such a slut 

You can give perfect head

2 hours ago, BBDreamer said:

Are you offering? 

Oh Mr. Robinson 

1 hour ago, hntnhole said:

He's right, guestJON. 

For all the carrying-on here at BZ about permanent, constant fucking/getting fucked, the fact is that occasionally we do need either "a break", or some time to deal with other facets of our lives.  

So is phillygwm. 

There are times, sometimes recurring regularly, when we simply aren't all that interested.  Getting checked out at your doc is a good start in alleviating whatever the issue is.  Another is to simply regulate yourself to only x number of days/nights per week, or only on weekends, or some other contrivance.  It keeps the actual breeding fresh and exciting, and all the other facets of your life "in place" too.  When any one "thing" is given too much predominance, our "balance" can get skewed up a bit. 

You'll get it figured out, and then it'll be in the past.  

I get in my moods, where there's a solid week I can't fuck enough. Other weeks I'm completely content with doing nothing, sometimes even saving my seed. Don't feel pressured to play, it should be fun, not a game you're trying to level up in.

7.5" UC that telescopes thicker at the base

You just might need a break, that happens to us all.

I remember seeing one advertised on blusky back in August or September. I tried looking for it a while back after I mentioned it to another user.