Monthly Archives: September 2016

Daily Thread

Suspended in a complex web of knots and ropes

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Check out these shots from “Sektor 9, Part 1” at Hot House.

Free video preview here.

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Jessie Colter has been strung up by the Sektor 9 rope master. He’s naked, suspended from the ceiling in a complex web of knots and ropes, completely helpless to whatever fate lies ahead. Cavin Knight walks in wearing a gas mask, his chiseled physique providing the only clue to his identity. Knight strokes Colter’s growing hardon as he works a huge latex dildo into the quivering man’s hole. Knight maneuvers the ropes and Colter ends up with his feet on the ground and his ass in the air, giving Knight easy access to his beefy butt. Knight power-fucks Colter who eventually drains his nuts without even touching himself.

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Models in this shoot: Cavin Knight, Jessie Colter

Key words: Anal Sex, Bondage, Buttplay, Sex Toys, Sling, Tattoos

See free video preview of this shoot here.

Latest updates from Hot House here.

 

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Story

Lincoln’s Assassination Anniversary Play

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By Mister-X/Spartan

Our college was putting on a play to mark the 150th anniversary of Lincoln’s assassination. Most people knew about John Wilkes Booth’s role in it. But few people knew about the others who helped him, and what their fate was. I was to play the role of one of the co-conspirators.

I made no pretext of the fact that I was gay. I also wanted acting to be my career. When it came time to pick the one who would be put into prison in those horribly difficult cuffs that the co-conspirators where put in, our director asked for volunteers. He normally would pick people for the roles, but he didn’t want to assign someone who would have difficulty playing this role. After no one seemed to want this role, I volunteered for it. Our director thanked me. He said I would need a backup, but no one else wanted to even be the backup. I was going to have to make sure that I would always be available. That was my first warning that this was going to be a difficult role to play.

Now that the director had someone to play the role, the next problem was getting the cuffs made. They had to fit the person who was portraying the role, and I was sent to the metal workshop to be fitted. Due to the fragility of the original cuffs, the director decided to make a modification. He also figured that I would prefer being placed in this modified version. He knew something about my interests, since he was also gay, and we’d played some.

At the metal workshop, the director told the workshop teacher what was required. He was surprised, but said that he’d be able to produce them. The director told him that I would be the one playing the part, and told him to make them to fit me. He said everything needed to be tight fitting, since that was the way they had it done at the time. The workshop teacher said “if that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get. But if you don’t like it, don’t blame me. Your man here will have to be the one to be put into them.” That was my second warning that this was going to be a difficult role to play.

Continue reading Lincoln’s Assassination Anniversary Play →

Daily Thread

Pictures and video: A gay slave gets his asshole pounded

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At Roped Studs. See below for a free video preview clip.

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Logan moans and gasps as a massive, veined dildo fucks his tight ass rhythmically. The hot man is roped to the four corners of the bed, his body covered with sexy lash marks. “Oh yeah!” he moans as rope man J.J. smacks his ass while fucking him. Logan is hurting – but oh so good. Then J.J.’s dildo-fucking gets rapid-fire – and he whips the captive while fucking him.

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See more like this at Roped Studs

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Story

The Convict – Part 14

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By Joshua Ryan

“OK,” the officer said, when he got me out in the hallway again. “Your looks are improving, convict. I like that new ankle bracelet. I think you look real cute in it. And you’re gonna look even cuter after your next stop. I’m tired of watchin that little dick of yours floppin around on the outside. But I guess you faggots don’t mind hangin out — do you, boy?”

“Boss! No Boss!”

“Well, if I didn’t have no more than what you got, I’d never wanta bounce that thing. I’d keep it packed away. Look at it.”

He put his hand out and grabbed my dick, like you grab a piece of junk that you plan to throw away. He yanked on it, and I lurched in his direction. “You call that a dick, boy?” He opened his hand. My dick was lying there, open to inspection.   He was right. It looked like nothing compared to his thick hard hand, or the long gray sleeve, full of muscle, that connected the hand to his big, buffed shoulders.

I could smell the Krew Comb on his haircut. I could smell the cigar he’d been smoking. A voice inside me yelled, “Fuck, man! There’s a hillbilly grabbin your dick! There’s a fuckin prison guard grabbin your fuckin dick!” But that voice was a long way away. My dick was starting to grow. It was filling and hardening, and he was starting to stroke it and crank it, like I was his cow and it was time to milk me. The more he stroked, the more it hardened and swelled and thrust in his fingers. I didn’t want that to happen. But there was nothing I could do. It was his tool now. I wasn’t in control of it anymore. Maybe I never had been. My dick didn’t care whose hand it was in; it might as well have been my own hand milking it — except that this hand was attached to a man, not to a “boy” like me. It was sliding in his hand like a piece of well-oiled machinery, like a piston that’s found the right groove . . It was true, then . . . he was the man, and I was the boy . . . he was the guard, and I was the convict . . . My dick was throbbing and jerking, struggling for release . . . Just when it was about to lunge free. . . .

Continue reading The Convict – Part 14 →

Story

Three Days in Jail – Part 03

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By Pisslurper

After two days, I had pretty much settled into jail routine. The mornings were nice; I’d wake up to the soft light at dawn, and drowsily drift in and out sleep with the sounds of the town waking up in the distance. The light would gradually bring the details of the cell into focus — the giant rivets, the steel walls, the steel L-brackets welded to the side walls, the glimpse of the cellblock through the steel bars of my cell doors. I’d become more aware of the smells of steel and concrete, and eventually I’d get up and piss a stream into the bucket.

When I was in the end cell, the jailor had to be in the cellblock to see into the cell through the bars of the cell door, and I could hear when he was entering the cellblock because unlocking the cellblock door made a loud racket. In the middle cell, the jailor could more or less sneak up from the jail portion behind the shower and look into my cell through the bars in the back wall of the cell. I wasn’t certain if I liked being more exposed or more secluded.

Since there wasn’t a table in the middle cell, and now I was supposedly a “medium security” risk, the jailor fed me my meals at the table in the cellblock area. He unlocked the padlock on the door of cell, exited the cellblock, slammed shut the cellblock door, padlocked the two huge sliding bolts on the cellblock door, then unlocked the sliding bar locking mechanism that locked and unlocked all three cell doors simultaneously. Then he told me that I could push open my cell door and enter the secure cellblock area. He pushed my cereal and banana through the handcuff slot, and I sat at the small table to eat my breakfast. I would’ve given my left nut for a cup of strong black coffee, but I knew better than to ask.

Continue reading Three Days in Jail – Part 03 →