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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna

I know most folk enjoy the stories I include with these but I just have not been in the mood for them. Words seem sterile and unarousing to me lately. /despair

I’m sure you can fill in the details: guy used to having his way with things, nabbed and trussed up like a puppet, frantically mincing on tip toes as he tries to keep from blacking out.

Hot pic though. Not sure what is different, but I really like the way his face came out. Seems less real than more recent pics, more expressive. All in the eyes I suppose.

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websissy
He shifted his weight uncomfortably, whimpering as he did so. Sweat dripped down the small of his back, running like a stream between the orbs of his buttocks and cascading over the enormous dildo the boy was impaled upon. His legs were shaking with...
misterchristianx

He shifted his weight uncomfortably, whimpering as he did so. Sweat dripped down the small of his back, running like a stream between the orbs of his buttocks and cascading over the enormous dildo the boy was impaled upon. His legs were shaking with the effort up keeping himself upright and preventing any further penetration.

‘Looking for office assistant to perform odd jobs’ was all the newspaper ad said. Vaughn could type well enough so he had applied, interviewed and then signed all the necessary paperwork. The youth needed the job badly or he’d lose his car, his flat, everything.

The odd jobs got more and more odd until Vaughn found himself cleaning toilets with his tongue, serving tea from his back and spending a lot of time after hours in the bosses office. The owner of X Incorporated had somehow known of the youth’s desperate plight and knew that he would have to comply.

At first his co-workers had seemed shocked or sympathetic at his predicament but quickly that had turned to callous disregard. They laughed at his situation as they walked past his tiny cubicle; exposed to all who happened to glance his way.

Now, shackled to this diabolical chair, Vaughn worked frantically. The firm had a deadline fast approaching and more was expected of the teen every day. The piles of paperwork continually grew. 'Call this client.’ 'Fax this report.’ 'Collate these documents.’

Face red with tears of humiliation and desperation, Vaughn wept silently and contemplated the disgusting offer that Mister X, his boss, had proposed for a life free from money woes. A life of slavery.


***

Bwaha.

I’m not really dead. I’ve just been working on a lot of projects but not actually finished one :p

This is the first and I am rather pleased with it. The pic took a long time to layout and sketch but in the end I think it was worth it.

I kind of wonder what exactly X Incorporated even does… Must be a great place to work though. <grins> All menial tasks to be performed by slave boys. <nods>

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Riki took a gasping breath and looked up at his Master in frustration. His mouth was almost numb and all he could taste was the salty-stickiness of his owner’s precum. It must have only been thirty minutes of energetic, dedicated lip service but the...

Riki took a gasping breath and looked up at his Master in frustration. His mouth was almost numb and all he could taste was the salty-stickiness of his owner’s precum. It must have only been thirty minutes of energetic, dedicated lip service but the teen was nearing exhaustion.

He must be doing something wrong. It was only his first time attempting a blow job on another and Mister X seemed no closer to cumming. If anything, his owner rigid member seemed about ready to burst as his owner lazily teased the boy’s privates with his foot, edging him closer but refusing to complete him.

Mister X glanced down at Riki and smirked. “You were so sure you could do it, you begged me to let you try. If your goal is to put me to sleep you’re getting very close now.” The man laughed scornfully.

Riki’s lower lips quivered - he felt hurt and enraged by his Master’s comments. He’d show him! He could do it even if it took all afternoon!

Knitting his brows together Riki took a deep breath and steeled himself for another go. Just as he leaned forward he felt Mister X’s fingers ensnare his hair and pull him forward, deep onto the man’s cock, his own privates crushed by the weight of his owner leaning forward on them.

“That’s the spirit. Here, let me help you, boy…” He cooed as he began to pump the boy’s head back and forth as though it were a living fleshlight.


***

Goodness me, I drew something. Don’t tell anyone or they’ll expect more.

Long story as to why the Dom in this picture is an overweight version of me with a Jay Leno-esque chin. I’m not going to tell you that story. Mwaah.

I’ll suffice to say, thanks for your idea and prodding, Riki. You appear to have broken my funk.

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A muffled cough issued from Colin’s gagged mouth. His throat was dry and his body ached from the awkward position the metal frame contorted him into. A cool breeze brushed against the naked skin of his buttocks, making his sphincter tighten...

A muffled cough issued from Colin’s gagged mouth. His throat was dry and his body ached from the awkward position the metal frame contorted him into. A cool breeze brushed against the naked skin of his buttocks, making his sphincter tighten reflexively. This only brought another groan from the boy, as his ass was still tender and still caked with the drying remains of an afternoon spent in the service of others.

It had been an awesome summer job. All the teens in the area vied for a chance to be hired on at the Château de Silling Country Club as caddies to the wealthy crowd that regularly visited it’s greens. A well-spoken caddy could easily earn triple his weekly salary in tips alone on a single set of nine holes, which was why Colin paraded into the streets celebrating after receiving his job offer.

Colin did fairly well for himself, putting away more money than he had imagined in the first week alone. Of course, a large portion of that income was based on the fact that Colin was a merciless cocktease. He recognized several of his regular clients were more than just interested in a game of golf by the way they eyed him and the youth thought this to be a marvelous opportunity to milk some extra cash out of them.

With sly glances, mildly compromising positions when setting up tee-offs, and a barrage of other attacks, Colin kept them coming back for more. It was like the veritable goose that laid the golden eggs. But this goose was about to be cooked. It all came to pieces on the seventh hole, the farthest point from the clubhouse, with Misters Burke and Hare.

Mister Burke was having abysmal luck that afternoon, a fact that Mister Hare enjoyed taunting him over to no end. Casting his nine-iron aside, Mister Burke turned to Colin, who was leaning leisurely against the golfcart containing the two men’s clubs, waiting should he be needed.

“Colin, fetch the new club. It’s time to try it out.” He called, exchanging a wicked grin with Mister Hare.

The ‘new club’ was still shielded by a protective cover that Mister Burke had forbidden Colin to remove when they were preparing to set out for the afternoon. More than a little curious, Colin hopped to the chance to sate his snoopiness. No sooner had he pulled the cover off than his inquisitiveness died and he cast a nervous glance at the gentleman.

“What… ?” He asked, pulling the 'club’ free from the golf bag. It was some sort of manacle affixed to a long metal bar with another manacle at the opposite end. “I don’t think this is regulation legal.” The youth joked apprehensively.

“For you, dear boy.” Mister Hare chimed in. “We’ve invested a great deal of money in you in the past. It’s time you finally paid up.”


***

You voted for bondage, now you get some. Aren’t I the benevolent dictator?

The golf idea for the story was a late comer. Had it been suggested sooner I would have drawn the scene on a putting green with the flag sticking out of Colin’s ass. I’m just pleased I managed to finally finishing something. My graveyard folder is getting rather full from the last few weeks’ failures.

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Prescott swallowed nervously.
His mouth was painfully dry. He wasn’t sure what was stuff in there, pressing against his tongue dryly, held in place with a dirty rag over his mouth. He couldn’t see in the dark of the room he was in. A massive headache...

Prescott swallowed nervously.

His mouth was painfully dry. He wasn’t sure what was stuff in there, pressing against his tongue dryly, held in place with a dirty rag over his mouth. He couldn’t see in the dark of the room he was in. A massive headache still thundered beneath his beanie, probably some kind of side-effect to that crap Mr. Gutreich had shoved in his face before he blacked out.

Shit! Mr. Gutreich! That fucker was responsible!

Prescott had been cutting through the man’s big, fenced backyard like he normally did to get home. (Much to the bastard’s numerous complaints. Its not like he was hurting anything, he avoided the plants and shit) But then, as he passed one of the tall shrubs, there was Mr. Gutreich, a fierce scowl on his face and a rag of something in his hand. It all went black after that.

He squirmed against the tight bonds holding him in place. Nothing, he was fixed to the spot. That realization caused a stiffening in the crotch of his pants. 

Fuck, he thought. This was not the place for /that/ interest to become public knowledge. He had to be figuring out how to get out of here! How to escape and tell the authorities what a sick fuck Gutreich was.

His train of thought was derailed by the sound of a door opening and blinding light spilled into the room.

“I asked nicely. Now I’m going to make sure you stay off my lawn, kid…”

***

Yay, got the colors right again. I keep straying from how I prefer to color. I get lazy and sloppy and then a pic like this comes along and corrects that.

Fun pic. It came out exactly as I wanted it to. It originally started out as a response to people who said my characters were getting too ‘old’ looking. Because 20 is so ancient XD By my visual chronometer, I’d say this guy is somewhere between 16-18.

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People are always struck by my Royal Doulton tea set. Indeed, during my candle-lit suppers my guests cannot take their eyes off of them. (Persons of the noble breeding can always sense quality, no doubt.)
My only complaint has been the nervous...

People are always struck by my Royal Doulton tea set. Indeed, during my candle-lit suppers my guests cannot take their eyes off of them. (Persons of the noble breeding can always sense quality, no doubt.)

My only complaint has been the nervous shaking and the occasional dropped tea cup. But I did inherit Daddy’s riding crop for just such occasions.


***

It only took me … two years, but I finally got an idea worth producing for the my Private Gallery series. You’ll never guess where my inspiration came from. I churned most of this out earlier in the week, but then life went to hell and it was not until this afternoon that I was able to complete things. God do I hate drawing rope bondage…

I do love the expression of intense concentration on the left boy’s face. “Fuck, if I drop this thing again…” There were originally plans of having his ass red from a previous flogging but as you can see, that did not end up happening. :p

PS, If you dislike freckles and redheads you can go hell. I’m Mister X and I draw what I want, worm.

:)
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“I think you may want,” he huffed in Brody’s ear, “to call in sick tomorrow.”
The words did not register as having meaning at first. Brody was floating in a sea of blissful ache and frustration. He knew it was Gavin, his master’s, voice and he knew...

“I think you may want,” he huffed in Brody’s ear, “to call in sick tomorrow.”

The words did not register as having meaning at first. Brody was floating in a sea of blissful ache and frustration. He knew it was Gavin, his master’s, voice and he knew that it was a question, which meant he needed to respond. Brody tried to answer but found that he had no voice to answer with. His throat was raw from screaming, grunting, begging, and deep-throating.

And then he was back in the moment. Sir was on top of him, plowing Brody’s whole body into the bedding with each powerful thrust of his hips. He was moaning like a whore, his whole body quivering and drenched in sweat. His senses were addled from a day spent in subspace and every inch of his body felt energized. Every inch, except for his cock and balls which ached longingly within the confines of their cage, seeping precum as though it would never stop.

Gavin was right, even now he felt almost totally drained, unable to even prop himself up to support his Master’s lusty lovemaking. Fuck, he hoped he wasn’t proving too much of a disappointment at this point. He wanted to thrust back eagerly against the larger man, whose sweat and scent seemed to surround him.

His Master seemed to read Brody’s internal dialog. “You’ve done well today, Brody, and tomorrow it will be my turn to take care of you.”

Brody melted into the blankets, grinning oafishly and blushing. He really was that easy to read? He was so wrapped up in warm thoughts of Gavin that he almost didn’t notice the bucking of his Master’s cock within him and the warm gush that followed.


***

D'awww, mushy post-BDSM lovemakings.

I haven’t drawn an actual sex pic in years, so on a random tangent I did. That turned out to be too vanilla, so … I spiced up the pic

;) Very awkward poses to draw, but I think I got them to mesh properly.
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