verbalBTTM

13 minutes ago, 1Exhibitionist said:

As many of the frequent posters on FetLife would reply: “FetLife is NOT a dating or hook up site!”

FetLife is a good site for finding local area munches, classes, and events if you are interested in BDSM / kink topics.

That's its strength, however there is an add-on I heard about that can filter out for age, sex, or location. If you like give these a go

 

[think before following links] https://github.com/fabacab/fetlife-aslsearch

 

[think before following links] https://www.crx4chrome.com/extensions/npiplmoaekhkgpppcgdafjkgdalojejo/

39 minutes ago, loadgiver said:

it ends up with the same result, people quitting the gym, and people complaining to management. The problem is that this indiscrete cruising behaviour works for them just often enough for it to be reinforced.  To be clear I'm talking about a normal gym steam room/sauna, not a bathhouse.

Yeah they don't pick up on the social ques like we do, and are horrible at dealing with rejection. I can get laid with a couple of stares while playing a game of pool, while they are franticly typing away on their phones for a guy on Sniffies 6 miles away. They also appear to be obsessed with the picture perfect guy to hook-up with, while I know the guy who's a little rough around the edges is going to be a better night. 

I've never had an issue hooking up at the gym, at an actual sauna. There's a dividing line in the generations in our ability to hook-up anywhere, if you grew up with out an internet connection you'll be fine anywhere, if you didn't you'll be lost.

17 minutes ago, Niceroundass said:

Hello, 

How is FetLife.com???

Is it worth signing up?

 

It's horrible for meeting people, however the topic threads have some good posters. I consider it a source for some inspiration for bondage ideas and toy reviews. I consider it the "hot topic" of kink, a bunch of not to serious people posting pics looking for attention. The people you'd want to meet are either to far away, or inactive. Many profiles are filled with memes, or old pics.

 

I've met a few people from there, all of them were subs with no experience.

I always breed balls deep until I have delivered every drop as promised. 

country boys are something else

FetLife.com has some quality members to look for ideas 

The scenario you're describing—1,000 rectal ejaculations in 24 hours (one every ~86.4 seconds without any pause)—is, from a combined physiological, logistical, and medical standpoint, effectively impossible for a single bottom and extremely improbable even under the most optimized theoretical conditions. Here’s a breakdown of why, focusing on the hardest constraints:

 

1. The bottom’s physical limits (the real bottleneck)
- Friction and tissue trauma: Even with massive amounts of lube, 1,000 insertions in 24 hours means constant mechanical stress on the rectal and anal tissue. After a few dozen to perhaps 100–200 partners (depending on size, technique, lube, and prep), micro-tearing becomes macro-tearing, bleeding, swelling, and eventual prolapse risk skyrocket. The rectum simply wasn’t designed for that volume of traffic.
- Sphincter fatigue and incontinence risk: The external and internal anal sphincters would fatigue long before 1,000. Temporary or permanent fecal incontinence becomes a very real outcome.
- Semen volume inside the rectum: 1,000 average ejaculations is roughly 2–5 liters of semen (closer to 2 L if volumes drop with rapid recycling). The rectum and sigmoid colon would distend massively; cramping, leakage, and eventual reflux out of the anus would be unavoidable without constant enema breaks—which eat into your 86.4-second window.

 

2. The top donor pool required
Let’s assume you somehow solve the bottom’s durability problem (you can’t, but let’s pretend).

- Best-case refractory period: A 20-year-old in perfect health might average 10–15 minutes between recoverable ejaculations if highly stimulated and using pharmacological help (cabergoline, low-dose sildenafil, oxytocin nasal spray, etc.). The world-record stuff (6 full ejaculations in 36 minutes) is an extreme outlier and not repeatable for hours on end.
- Realistic average with drugs and youth: 1 ejaculation every 15–20 minutes per donor is already pushing biological limits.
- Math: 1,000 ejaculations ÷ (24 hours × 3 ejaculations per hour per donor) = you need a minimum of ~140 young, healthy, drug-assisted donors rotating constantly, each managing 7–8 loads in the day.
- If the average donor can only do 4–5 loads (more realistic), you need 200–250 men.

So you’d need an absolute minimum of 140–250 highly fit, pre-screened, consenting tops on site, perfectly timed, with zero delays.

 

3. Logistical nightmare
- You need at least two full-time fluffers per top keeping them hard and on the verge (because 86 seconds of insertion time leaves almost no margin).
- Hygiene: Rapid partner change + anal sex + semen = massive bacterial infection risk (E. coli, gonorrhea, chlamydia, shigella, etc.) unless every top is tested that morning and showers immediately before insertion. Fortunately this is breeding zone, so who cares about that.
- Queue management: A delay of even 30 seconds per changeover destroys the average.

 

Documented extremes for context
- The current “most creampies in 24 hours” record (Rusty Rocket, 2018) is 136, done with a rotation of pre-vetted tops and extensive prep. That’s 1 every 10.6 minutes—already 7× slower than the needed 86-second pace.
- Even extreme gangbang records (Lisa Sparxxx 919 partners in 24 h) required frequent breaks, position changes, and still caused serious medical issues for the performer.

 

Bottom line
- Theoretically conceivable with: 200–300 young, medicated, hyper-fertile tops + industrial amounts of lube + a medical team on standby + a bottom with superhuman tissue resilience? Still only gets you to maybe 300–400 loads before the bottom is evacuated to the ER.
- Human biology simply says no.

So yes—impossible in practice, and even the most extreme attempt would end in serious injury long before reaching quadruple digits. 

That's quite an order sir. It speaks to a certain decisive confidence. One must admire the sheer, unapologetic scope of it. I shall speak of your deeds when I convene with the great counsel of elders.

I love making my bottoms cum, I try to time it to my orgasm. Otherwise I'll edge it out of them 

10 hours ago, Cutedelicategay said:

I enjoy the end of the bar time when men are generally drunk horny and bartenders are getting ready to find a hole as well. Have had quite a few encounters during that time..

We always have the pick of the litter 

Sounds like closing time at the bar I used to run most nights of the week

On 11/19/2025 at 11:10 AM, Bokkierob said:

When manning a glory hole

I just love how you phrased this, as if you're at some battle station awaiting the moment of glorious combat.

Chapter 5

 

Saturday, June 26, 1993, 08:21 PM

 

A tercentennial storm sweeps in from the west over the Gunks, forcing us to scramble and pack away the gear for our gracious host. Soaked and shivering, we gather in the living room, our naked bodies dripping onto the floor. The Mentors pass out towels, their calm gestures easing our discomfort. The air shifts when Master’s voice cuts through, sharp and commanding: “Dom's, prepare the room.” It’s a call to battle stations, and the Dom's move with purpose, converging on a bookcase that slides open to reveal a hidden passage. They vanish behind it, the door sealing shut with a soft thud.

 

A faint mechanical hum rises from beneath the floor, stirring a mix of wonder and anticipation in my chest. One of the Alphas catches my gaze, his wink laced with a promise of forbidden pleasures, his eyes holding mine with unspoken intent.

 

Master somehow reappears from the kitchen and claps, his presence commanding the room. “Mentors, escort the pledges blindfolded with their packs,” he orders. My Mentor retrieves four blindfolds from a chest beside a celestial globe, handing them out with quiet efficiency. The soft fabric slips over my eyes, plunging me into darkness. Anticipation thrums through me, my trust in the moment unshaken as my Mentor tugs my leash, guiding me down a narrow staircase. The faint pulse of music grows louder, its throbbing beat setting a primal tone for what lies ahead.

 

We enter a new space, and the Mentors position us one by one. The only sounds are the soft shuffle of feet and the rhythm of the music, wrapping around us like a pulse. A sharp clap from Master no doubt echoes, and my blindfold is removed. My eyes adjust to a hazy room bathed in warm, dim red light, the air thick with the promise of debauchery, the stage set for the night’s unraveling desires.

The basement sprawls like a labyrinth, its stone and mortar walls forming a maze of shadowed chambers designed for carnal indulgence. Exposed wooden beams crisscross the ceiling, interwoven with plumbing pipes that lend a raw, industrial edge. Victorian-era iron pillars stand as silent sentinels, ready to witness the night’s unfolding desires.

 

Mirrors and sultry red lights adorn the walls and ceiling, casting a seductive glow that amplifies every movement, turning the space into a theater of visual temptation. Leather slings sway from the ceiling, while fisting benches, bolted firmly to the floor, promise intense encounters. Along the walls, leather banquettes and over sized chaise lounges invite submission, their surfaces beckoning the most depraved fantasies into reality.

 

In a dimly lit corner, a tiled chamber hums with forbidden allure. Steel rails, bolted to the ceiling and just above the floor, offer endless possibilities for restraint. A single drain in the center of the floor stands ready to catch the night’s excesses. Nearby, a mahogany bar with mirrored backing glows softly, its liquor bottles and glassware illuminated by the only white light in the space—a stark contrast to the room’s otherwise primal ambiance.

 

Master’s voice cuts through the air, naming us with a deliberate edge: “faggot bindel, faggot o’connell, faggot colencheck, faggot worthington.” He commands us to crawl toward him. On hands and knees, we move in total submission through a corridor of our brothers, their bodies forming a living gauntlet leading to the bar where Master waits, a Scotch in hand, flanked by the Dom's. With a nod, he signals us to rise. “Welcome to the Licentiousness Lounge,” he declares, “where your darkest desires are not just accepted—they’re celebrated.”

 

My eyes sweep the room, taking in a world both foreign and intoxicating. “This is the Licentiousness Lounge,” Master continues, “a sanctuary where what happens here remains unspoken beyond these walls—not as a secret among us, but as a pact against the outside world. The storm tonight has brought you here sooner than planned, but I feel you’re ready to begin.”

 

 

The Dom's pass us drinks, their gazes lingering, appraising us with unspoken intent. Master’s voice softens but retains its authority. “Tonight, you remain faggots, bound by protocol. But know this: the next time you enter this space, you’ll stand as equals among us, brothers in a tribe where masks conceal identities and unleash our true selves. Here, you may indulge without restraint.”

 

He tugs our leashes, two in each hand, guiding us through the lounge’s offerings. “These are slings, Faggot bindel,” he says, a knowing glint in his eye. “You remember these, don’t you?” I nod, a smile breaking free. “Yes, Sir.” He gestures to the fisting benches. “These aren’t for you yet.” We pass a St. Andrew’s Cross, its arms ready to bind and expose, and a sitters’ sling that seems to hum with promise. “Restraints, floggers, ropes—every tool for pleasure and pain awaits you here,” he says.

 

We pause at the watersports room, its tiled expanse both intriguing and unsettling. “If you need to relieve yourself,” Master explains, “and a brother kneels or lies before you, share your warmth. Don’t waste it.” The idea stirs a mix of confusion and curiosity, my gaze lingering on the drain as I grapple with its implications.

The tour continues to a lounge area where U-bolts gleam above leather banquettes, their purpose clear in the dim light. Oversized chaise lounges and ottomans, scattered purposefully, whisper of past encounters—each piece a canvas for unspoken debauchery. As Master explains their functions, a new world unfurls before me, thrilling and terrifying. I’m eager to surrender to this brotherhood, to explore the depths of my desires in ways I never dared imagine.

 

The tour ends where it began. Overwhelmed with lust and reverence, we four kneel before Master, our leashes extended in offering. One by one, we declare ourselves to the room. “I am faggot bindel,” I say, voice steady despite the fire within. “and I am a worthless faggot. I seek discipline, training, mentoring, and respect Sir.”

 

Danny, a towering figure of raw strength, succumbs to Dom Igor’s commanding presence, his eyes locked in a blaze of arousal. Kneeling without breaking eye contact, he grips my leash and offers both to Dom Igor as a tribute. “Please, Sir,” Danny declares, his voice steady with devotion, “accept my submission. I am a hole for your pleasure, ready to serve, obey, and be used as you see fit.”

 

Dom Igor, flanked by an Alpha and a Beta, surveys us with approval, their expressions gleaming at our growing understanding of our place. With a clink of metal links, they claim our leashes and lead us from the lounge’s sultry warmth into a stark, tiled chamber—their chosen arena for testing our surrender. The cold floor bites our knees as we’re restrained by ankle cuffs near the ground, our leashes tugged upward to meet the silhouettes of Dom Igor, his Beta, and the Alpha.

 

“Position one,” they command, “mouths open.” We kneel, anticipation pulsing through us. A warm stream cascades over our faces and backsides, their urine marking us one by one. Our bodies quiver with a heady mix of shame and thrill, embracing this shocking act of submission. We lap up the acrid warmth, savoring every drop, the filth igniting a strange, intoxicating surrender.

 

A dominant steps forward, slapping my ass and signaling position two—bent forward, exposed. His lubed finger circles my entrance, preparing me with deliberate care. Beside me, Danny’s eyes burn with need as a tongue explores his hole. Our moans echo, tempting the men, our bodies trembling with desire. A thick cock enters me without warning, the pleasurable pain tearing a cry from my throat that electrifies the room. Spurred by my reaction, the dominant slaps my ass again, my spasms tightening around him as he claims me. Danny mirrors my surrender, lost in his own ecstasy.

 

A new sensation builds as the man inside me pauses, a warm flood filling my core. Unable to clench tightly enough, I feel his urine spill, trickling down my taint, over my balls, and along the sides of my slender legs. (I’m a disgusting pig), I think, (and I’m exactly where I belong). Another dominant seizes my face, thrusting into my throat. His urine overflows, streaming down my chin and chest, marking me as his. Spit-roasted, I revel in my depravity, my moans of ecstasy resonating through the tiled chamber. Danny, transformed beside me, laps at the dripping offering before pressing his lips to a man’s hole, eager to prove his worth.

 

Our moans, entwined with the men’s pleasure, freeze us in a moment of pure surrender. Our neglected cocks drip uselessly onto the cold tiles, our bodies aching with need. A silhouette approaches, drawn to our filth, and unleashes a fresh shower of urine as we’re used at both ends, our bodies trembling like a depraved altar of service.

 

“Next,” he growls, and my hole twitches in anticipation, clenching to hasten the man inside me. Danny mirrors my urgency, enticing our tops to climax. Their cocks pulse, filling us with warm, creamy seed. I savor the softening cock within me, clenching to hold its gift, a perfect lubricant for the next. The man in my throat releases, his cum flooding my mouth, satisfying the craving I’ve come to embrace. As he withdraws, I catch sight of Harry and Arthur on leather chaise lounges, railed mercilessly, with more men waiting their turn. My mind reels at the depravity surrounding us.

 

Left alone, Danny and I crave more. We collapse ourselves into a sixty-nine position on the cold tiled floor, greedily sucking the potent cum from each other’s holes which we gladly spread ourselves open for each other, the taste so rich and overwhelming. A new dominant enters, his stream spraying us like a suburban lawn going side to side while adding to the puddle of waste around us, but he doesn’t dare interrupt our fervor. Content in our filth, we call out, our muffled voices a raw offering to the room.

 

Dom Igor thoroughly pleased how we've embraced our submission, orders us to stand with our arms up as he removes our ankle restraints. Unshackled now, we stand chest to chest, as he hoses us clean with icy water that jolts our senses. He throws us a towel each watching us pat each other down

 

Once dry we're led to the fisting benches, we obey the command to lay down. Danny’s panting betrays his calm still, as a tongue is at his hole, and I glance back to see him spreading himself for the masked dominant, savoring the remnants of my slobber and the cum within. Once hesitant, Danny now craves the cock that fills his newfound void, just as I do. From shy newcomers drawn by a cryptic ad, we’ve become cumdumps, bound by our shared hunger, eager to serve the desires of our brothers.

 

In the haze of the dungeon, danny the reserved hulking member of our group, sweat-slicked muscles taut, eyes burning with lust, with shadowy figures beginning to circling us, he reaches back with both hands to spread his cheeks apart, fully on offer as a beacon of desire. Like me, he’s discovered the void within—a hunger only a raw cock can fill. Last night, he surrendered to men who claimed him with fierce love, and I beam with pride for my lifelong friend. We were shy boys once, guarding our secrets, but together we’ve become cumdumps, eager for any man’s pleasure.

 

Just then, harry and walter are carried over to the slings in front of us. Arthur and I lock eyes as our faces are hovering over each other, we know exactly what the other is thinking, we're both glad I responded to that ad. arthur and I infinitely excited by our predicament begin kissing as a bottle is offered to our noses, we both breathe deeply from its emissions. Now lust fueled on poppers, we begin to kiss with desperate need.

 

Suddenly, and as if ordained, both of our holes are suddenly filled by generous thrusts of sizable mention. While locking tongues, we start to moan in each other's mouth as our hands grab furiously at each other heads. I then extend my left hand out as if in search of my glasses and notice harry and danny doing the same as arthur and I. Again, the four of us, youthful and barely experienced twinks, united again with our holes out on offer being pounded out by many unknown men. With poppers constantly being fed to us, we are insatiable in our wants as we don't dare to stop these strange men from having their way with us, completely willing to be used and abused in any way these men desire.

 

We have found Shangri-La, and it's inside of each of us, and our submission is the pathway that leads us there. Content as a Buddhist monk in our enviable bliss, which is unmatched by any previous experience we’ve had before. (I'm so glad I had the courage to face my desires, together with my friends we will explore every dark corner of each others raw desires.)

 

End of Chapter 5

 

 

1 hour ago, ImAnon4Now said:

I totally agree. Lust. The need and craving for sexual depravity. Not just being used and degraded by others, but degrading and defiling oneself. Doing it with another faggot who wants the same is intense and gratifying.

While still recognizing the intense need to be used as a bitch by a horny Top who fucks our cunt and pumps his seed into us.

my fellow faggot

2 hours ago, drscorpio said:

Do you know this guy? [think before following links] https://x.com/Draconblue_OF

Hands-free nuts are kind of his trademark, but it is all solo. 

No, but I'd that man a drink anytime. Fucking hot, love the way air alone makes him cum like that. 

I did, but almost strictly as a too

6 hours ago, BBKnockerCum76 said:

Maximus Sky breeding Arvion Kylers well trained to swallow that cock and roll back the eyes.  

[think before following links] [think before following links] https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=64943b8bac643

Ahh yes, love those boys, they are part of my porn folder labeled "hands free". Absolutely love a hands free orgasm 

4 hours ago, BBDreamer said:

Still a fantasy for me. This is what really gets me hot. [think before following links] [think before following links] https://xhamster.com/videos/ass-to-mouth-at-the-glory-hole-xhpxZiO#

For the boy I've been mentoring, his next lesson will be in sleaze acceptance. He says he wants to be a cumdump, so I'll be taking him to a glory in Times SQ near the Port Authority Bus Terminal. I'll have him on a video conference call ordering him around. Once this happens I'll write a little story about it.

3 hours ago, hexfet said:

If you are too tight, let me know and I'd be happy to open you up for him 🙂

I'm feeling a little tight here

24 minutes ago, PozBearWI said:

Or failing condoms, some of us perfected our cock sucking and deep throat skills.  God that was a crappy time.  And yet...  I lived in Chicago then and the community pulled together.  Would that happen again in our phone ap world?  

No it wouldn't, especially with the new generations. They don't have the sense of community that we did, or the generations before us. We played outside until the street lights came on, they didn't do that.

On 10/28/2025 at 3:15 AM, Tundery said:

either your hands are tiny, or that is one fucking thick cock

Chapter 4

 

Saturday, June 26, 1993, 08:00 AM

 

Rise and shine, my Mentor commands, "faggots attend to your duties, faggot bindel go to the living room, and wait with your friends." Still hooded, the men apply their efforts to breakfast. A wonderful aroma fills the air to my delight; I smell cinnamon and apples.

 

Master walks in and says, "Good morning, faggots," we all tilt our heads and say, "Good morning, Master." An Omega says to Master, "I have your coffee at your seat, sir." Master nods his approval and sits himself down. A short time passes, and a bell rings out. danny's mentor says, "Come on, faggots, breakfast time." Coffee & freshly squeezed OJ to drink; Apfelpfannkuch (German pancake) and feta cheese omelets with baby spinach, caramelized onions and home-fries pan cooked in duck fat.

 

We all chatted about last night over breakfast. The four of us were complemented for opening up so well. One of the Beta's said, "faggot worthington, your ass really sucked the cum out of my cock last night, and I thought I was pig." We took it for the complement as it was intended and lifted our glasses to being faggots.

 

harry chimed in and said, "OMG, I thought I tasted you in his hole last night," everyone giggled. Master is pleased how well we're all getting along; the Mentors say, "faggot bindel, o'connell, colencheck, worthington, dishes." We say, "Yes, sir," we collect and clean the plates together, happily serving our brothers as they did us.

 

Saturday, June 26, 1993, 10:00 AM

 

My Mentor grabs my leash and hands it to my Alpha and says, "Take them for a walk, faggot." I get down on my hands and knees and obediently follow his lead as we leave the men behind. On the porch, my Alpha commands me to rise, hands me my leash, and says, "Follow me."

 

We run around the property only wearing our collars and / or hoods. With our cocks flapping about in rhythm with our balls, naked as the day we were born. I feel natural in this, like this is proper and always missing. We make our way to a waterfall where my Alpha jumps off a cliff and right into a pool below. We all do this, waiting only for the person before us to clear the way. We sat on the shoreline, atop some rocks for a resting bit.

 

The four Alpha's then line us up according to our Mentor, and begin with some calisthenics. Jumping jacks, push-ups, etc.… As we go through this work out regime, the Alpha asks us, "What are we here for," we recite, "Discipline, training, mentoring, and respect." WHY faggots, "BECAUSE FAGGOTS CRAVE COCK SIR".

 

As I count out my sit-ups, I start to feel as if I had accidentally joined some secret faggot army. Alpha says, "Why would someone want to put their cock inside of your worthless faggot holes." The Beta's and Omega's start off saying, "IT IS MY DUTY TO BE FIT, SO I AM A FUCKABLE FAGGOT SIR." The Alpha's say, "What was that, faggots?" "IT IS MY DUTY TO BE FIT, SO I AM A FUCKABLE FAGGOT SIR." This repeats until we are back at the house.

 

Saturday, June 26, 1993, 12:30 PM

 

We make it back in time for lunch. A meal has been prepared for us by the fire pit. Turkey club sandwiches and a garden salad with some unsweetened iced tea. The boys and I notice four new men sharing the meal with us; they aren't wearing hoods, why? Master introduces us one by one as before.

 

When Master gets to me, he says, "faggot bindel, this is Dom Chris, Dom Joseph, Dom Igor, and Dom Marco. They are above your mentors, just so you understand the order of things." I Reply, "Sir, yes sir." Master says to the four men, "faggot bindel celebrated his eighteenth birthday with us last night, isn't that right, faggot bindel?" "Sir, yes sir."

 

Dom Chris is the man who made your cake, faggot. I get down on my knees before him, look up, and I say, "Thank you, sir Chris, thank you, sir." He motions me up and says, "I hope you enjoyed it, faggot." "Sir, very much, sir." He turns to my Master and says, "What a fine candidate, sir." We continue our lunch and allow some time for digestion.

 

Saturday, June 26, 1993, 01:15 PM

 

Master claps, we all rise awaiting our orders. "Faggots to your service, faggots bindel, worthington, colencheck, and o'connell, your duty is to bathe these men. Make them feel welcome," we reply as one.

 

"Sir, yes sir."

 

Sir Chris takes my leash, and as is expected of me, I get on my hands and knees, then follow obediently behind him into the house to another bedroom on the second floor of the house. The room is handsome with a large bed, fire, a small porch, and a reading chair with an ottoman.

Dom Chris sits down in the reading chair and says, "Faggot, go draw me a bath."

 

"Sir, yes sir." I prepare the tub, return to him and await instructions. He says, "Rub my feet, faggot."

 

Looking right in his eye, I say, "Sir, yes sir" and begin my service. This guy is hot, maybe 27, 6’ 175 pounds, blond, blue, and in shape. I take his shoes and socks off slowly.

 

Lustfully, I scan him as I rub his feet. I ask Dom Chris to be excused for a moment; he nods as I go to turn off the water. I return to the room and say, "Sir, your bath is ready, sir." He starts to undress as I say, "Excuse me, sir, please allow me."

 

I start with his motorcycle armor, which is covered in dead bugs, then I slowly lift his T-shirt, putting my face right into his armpit just for a little more than a sniff, then move my head right into the center of his chest to feel the hair on my smooth boyish face.

 

Then as I look right into his eyes, I slowly get on my knees and unbutton his pants. I peel his tight jeans off one leg at a time. Now the prize, with my teeth and tender soft hands, I pull his boxer briefs down and off as I push my face right into his crotch. Feeling his bush and breathing deeply of his scent. His penis, long, gloriously thick with a bulbous head, and a very pronounced vein on the top of his shaft.

 

I stand before him and say, "Follow me, sir." I escort him into the bathroom, where I assist him into the tub. I get the luffa sponge and begin my service to this man as he lays back. I tenderly scrub every inch of him, leaving nothing to chance. I use my hands to give a closer inspection of my work. As I'm shampooing his hair with my crotch besides his face, he grabs my ass with his left hand and invites me into his bath. Dom Chris unplugs the drain and turns the water back on.

Dom Chris said, "I prefer the room a little steamy, and this water could use some freshening." Smiling, I ask if I may rub him so that he might be able to relax. He nods his approval, and I begin with his shoulders. I pull myself closer to him, finally feeling his soft short beard rubbing on my face. My delicate hands starting from the top of his crack slowly making their way up past his neck. Having him in my arms, I return to his shoulders where I find a knot.

 

I ask Dom Chris if I may please sit behind him to apply the proper pressure. With his deep and commanding voice, he says, "No, that's ok, you're doing just fine where you are, faggot."

 

Dom Chris commands me to sit back and put my legs up on the sides of the tub. of course; I obey without hesitation. With his rough and callused hands, he feels my long slender legs falling on the outside and back towards him once he hits my back side. My cock is hard with its head poking out of the water. He notices my arousal and smiles.

 

As I stare into his deep blue eyes, I ask if there's anything I may offer him. A beverage, a towel, me perhaps? Tempted by my offer, he pulls my legs towards him and feels his way down to my nether region. His cock now pressed against my pink hole, pulls me in a tad further. I feel him enter me a smidge, my eyes opening wide now, "I say thank you, sir, I offer myself freely for you to enjoy, please accept my submission to you, sir."

 

Dom Chris says, "Just you wait, faggot." As he gets up and slaps his wet cock all over my face with his hairy balls rubbing on my lips. He looks down and says, "Open your mouth, faggot." I obey as he grabs the back of my head and spits in my mouth. Without blinking, I swallow and await his anything. Dom Chris smiles as his hands come to my armpits and begins to lift me upwards. He forces my head to the side as he sucks on my neck up and down. I'm panting like an overheated dog; with my erection distancing me from his complete embrace.

 

Dom Chris spins me around with a firm grip, his hands strong and demanding. He bends me over the edge of the tub, my body yielding to his dominance. Dom Chris says, "Offer me your hole, faggot." I eagerly obey, offering him my tender backside in an arching manner. His fingers dig into my flesh as he forces my legs apart, exposing me completely, leaving me vulnerable and at his mercy. I grab the sides of the tub, my knuckles white with the effort, bracing myself for what's to come.

 

He slaps his cock on my moist spot as I gasp. He then gets on his knees, separating my cheeks, revealing my special place, and starts to suck with his lips on the sides of my hole. Up and down, either side, over and over. My gasps grow with intensity as I reveal my true submissive nature to him.

 

He then begins to taste me, slowly offering me his strength upon my tender young fleshy buttocks. His tongue probes what's left of my innocence. As my whimpers transform into uncontrollable pants, I utter in submission, my hole is yours, sir.

 

This excites him as his probing deepens inside of me with a stronger separation of my cheeks. His beard softly rubs my revealed tenderness as his probing continues. His hands releasing my cheeks, slowly feel up my chest. He ceases his exploration and pulls me back to him, holding me in his embrace. My head dips back to offer myself as I feel his still-wet hairs brush me. He says, "Get a towel, faggot" as his cock glides over my offered fuck-hole.

 

I reach for a towel and begin to dry our two bodies molded as one, as I had always dreamt. Mostly dry now, he gets out, then picks me up by my hind quarters and pulls me in. With both arms, I grab around his shoulders, locking both arms around his back. My legs wrapped around his torso like a snake. He carries me back to the room with him sucking at the side of my neck. Holding my ass cheeks apart, offering a slight gentle breeze upon my hole, which gives a welcomed tingle.

 

He throws me down and forces my arms up as he sucks on my armpit. Unable to respond, my legs instinctively rise as they spread. Completely on offer for him, his tongue probes down my chest with his nibbles. The few hairs that I have developed thus far are pulled by his tongue. I offer no resistance to his attempts; I eagerly await any abuse he wishes to inflict upon me. Dripping precum like a leaky faucet, my hunger grows for this man: God please let me have him tonight.

 

He makes his way to my member and tastes my urethral emissions. Much to his delight, he enjoys my member going all the way down on me. He gives me a tonguing on my shaft as he puts my legs down. He turns his body, forcing his champion into my needing mouth. As I choke on his cock, he lovingly sucks on mine. He forces my legs back as he deep throats me.

 

Sucking my remaining teenage innocence down without hesitation, his callused hands rough up my offered prize with their entrance. So, he applies lube to his cocks new home as I moan in relief that my tender young flesh is to his liking. With each thrust of his, my throat gives way to his force. With my phlegm flowing like bubbling spring, he fucks my face harder. My head, buried in this mattress gave up long ago, and allows the continuous assault to occur unimpeded.

 

He pulls himself off of me, sensing that I am on the brink of release, his control over my pleasure unyielding. Stepping off the bed, he grabs my ankles with a firm grip, his touch both dominant and possessive. He pulls me towards him, my body yielding to his command as he enters my surrendered territory with the ferocity of a liberated city, welcomed with delight and submission.

 

He enters and exits me in a twisting fashion. Unable to control myself, I beg him for more. With my arms still up and my mouth open, whimpering in my bliss. He commands me to clench my hole. He notices my efforts and smiles as I feel his excitement grow with his veracity of his cock hammering my hole. He looks in my eyes and sees me reveling in delight and pain. He gives a powerful slamming thrust.

 

His thrusts are challenging, pushing me to my limits, and my noises are involuntary, a symphony of pleasure and pain that fills the air. Each movement is a claim, a reminder of his power and my surrender. I am his to command, his to use, and I revel in the intensity of the moment.

 

He enters and exits me in a twisting fashion, his cock exploring every inch of my depths, driving me wild with desire. Unable to control myself, I beg for more, my voice a desperate, pleading whimper. "More, please, more," I cry out, my arms still braced against the tub, my body trembling with need and ecstasy.

 

Dom Chris commands me to clench my hole, his voice firm and unyielding. I obey, my muscles tightening around him, gripping him with all my strength. He notices my efforts, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he feels my hole clench around his cock. His excitement grows, his thrusts becoming more vigorous, more intense, his cock hammering into me with renewed ferocity.

 

I beg for his load like a proper faggot, my voice a desperate, plead. "Cum in my ass, sir, mark me as your territory." The words tumble from my lips, a mix of submission and desire, as I offer myself completely to him. I see his eyes widen with resolve, a primal hunger ignited within him, and I know that I have pushed him to the edge, to the point of no return.

 

Just then, that glorious sound escapes his mouth, a roar of pure, unbridled pleasure. His eyes roll back, and his body tenses, every muscle coiled and ready to release. In that moment, he is a god, a master of his domain, and I am his willing sacrifice, his vessel for pleasure and submission.

 

He empties his balls inside me, his cock pulsing with each powerful jet of cum, filling me completely, stretching me to my limits. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain, as his essence marks me, claims me, makes me his. I can feel the warmth of his load, the sticky, thick liquid coating my insides, a testament to his dominance and my surrender.

 

He collapses atop me, his body slick with sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps. We are both exhausted, spent from the intensity of our acts, but there is a profound sense of satisfaction, a completion that leaves us both sated and content. I thank you, dear God, for you have delivered me to this moment, this place of pure, unfiltered bliss.

 

Together, we snuggle up, our bodies entwined, finding comfort in each other's embrace. The world outside fades away, leaving only the here and now, the shared experience that has bonded us, the pleasure and pain that define us. We drift off into a brief, much-needed nap, our bodies and minds at peace, ready to face whatever comes next, together.

 

Saturday, June 26, 1993, 05:00 PM

 

As always, this weekend anyway, I'm led by my leash outside to the patio and pool area, an exquisitely curated oasis with an emphasis on relaxation and aesthetics. A generously-sized pool, a kitchen grill station, a fully stocked bar, and enough seating for any occasion. Fantasy Island has nothing on this place, I think with a smile, as I notice my tenderized rump. I spot my Mentor over at the bar; can't mistake that happy trail with anyone else.

Master lays down on one of the lounge recliners, enjoying a cocktail with the Doms. "Guys, please help yourselves to the bar," he says, pointing towards the Red Oak tree. Capital idea; looks like I have little choice but to indulge, myself yet again.

 

I head to the bar and see about a Margarita. My Mentor notices me struggling to salt the rim. With an open hand, he grabs my chest, pulls me in and whispers, "faggot bindel, you know how to eat an ass like the best of us. Why are you having an issue rimming this glass?", As his cock meat stuffs itself between my buns expertly.

 

With his other hand, he takes the glass from me, opens the sponge tray; just then it clicks for me. "Thank you for your instruction, sir. May I pour you one as well?" Without moving, he grabs his glass and slowly says, "Fill me up, faggot." I am never leaving this place, ever. "Yes, sir, with pleasure, sir."

 

We retreat to one of the smaller tables by the pool as he leads me by my collar. We sit and talk about where we're from, and then he asks, "You're pretty young for this lifestyle, what brought you into it?" I told him about the ad I saw online and say, "When I read about the control part, I was turned on. The rest of the text only reassured me of my suspicions. I really like the dynamic of how you give of yourself in trust. How it's not about merely sex; it's about a way of life; the sex just comes with the lifestyle." He nods thoughtfully, and then with a soft smile, he shares, "Submission is trust offered, and the control is love given."

 

He nods in agreement and says, "Yeah, sex is boring compared to this. I can't even think about meaningless one-night stands. With this, I either take or give fully with a man. No half measures, no holding back." As the rest of our pack joins us, and we continue the conversation, exploring each other's appreciation for the lifestyle and the code. As our are almost depleted, the Omega gets up, and I say, "Excuse me, sir. I do believe I'm the one in need of more experience. Please allow me to attend to this matter sir."

 

As I start up on the drinks, Master, wearing an apron, is messing with the grill. He says, "faggot bindel, how are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, just fine, sir. Thank you for having me, sir, as well as having me over, sir." As I cheekily show my backside. He smiles and asks if I could freshen him up. I smile and say, "Every way that I can for you, sir." Smiling, he replies, "Just the drink for now, faggot, for now."

 

The men, Dom Igor and Dom Joseph, take notice of my flirting and don't attempt to hide it. Dom Joseph asks, "How do I like my meat?" I devilishly smile at them, slightly gaze down, then back up. "For a steak like that, just finished screaming with a bit of char, sir," looking back down at their crotches, "raw, as God intended, sir." The three men laugh at my advance and reply, "The night is young, just like you." I raise my glass and say, "Indeed," with my boyish smirk. I collect the drinks I just made, excuse myself, and return towards the table. I overhear Dom Joseph ask Master, "Well, how was he?" Master replies, "Very choice." I smile, for I'm as giddy as a schoolboy.

 

A little time passes, and Dom Igor approaches and says, "Faggot bindel," (in a moderately thick Russian accent) "come with me." "Yes, sir," as I excuse myself from the table. Dom Igor grabs me by my cock and balls and leads me back to the grill. He hands me a steak and a baked potato smothered in butter, absolutely perfect on a plate, and says, "This won't be the only meat you get tonight, faggot." I reply, "I certainly hope not, sir," as I smile with blushed cheeks. One by one, Master serves up steaks to the gang.

 

After dinner is finished, we continue to enjoy the patio, the libations flow freely as our conversations carry on. What began as a gentle breeze grows wild, and begins to spoil the mood.

5 hours ago, Pozzible said:

I wonder if you can buy those balls anywhere. If that’s their purpose, I’d love them in all my poppers. 

Does refrigeration really help? I’ve heard mixed things. 

The little white balls are Epsom salt balls that have been heat treated in an oven to be completely devoid of water moisture. They are used for two purposes.

 

1. To absorb water moisture in the poppers 

2. To agitate the fluid in the bottle for a consistent vapor release 

 

As far as refrigeration, yes it does help. It slows down chemical reactions that cause the poppers to spoil and loose potency.

 

Hope that helps 

6 hours ago, BruxoCub said:

Good to know, I was down there twice this year, need to return soon!!

I think of that park as a rest stop on my way to a friend's place in East midtown.