All posts by Cutieboy90

Story

Roadtrip!

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By Cutieboy90

Chris squeezed his eyes shut, trying for the dozenth time in the same number of minutes to force himself to sleep. He tried not to toss and turn too much, though he couldn’t help it. Not five seconds later, Chris’s eyes flashed open, and his lips cracked back into a big silly grin. He looked to the clock on the nightstand, finding the time still too early to do anything.

With a whimper, the excited pup curled himself around his body pillow, his back to the clock. Next to him, sleeping cozily, was his boyfriend and owner, Brian. Brian was only a few years older, but had some salt and peppered hair, and a strong, beefy build. He was a playful, kind, but firm master, and a very loving boyfriend.

Yet another rush of excitement coursed through the boy’s body, his hard cock throbbing now too. Typically, Chris would spend the night in some form of restraints, in his cage next to the bed, or if he’d been naughty, on the floor. Tonight was the rare occasion he was allowed to sleep without any restraints, save for his collar, and Brian’s arms around him. Even his cock cage had been unlocked for the night, though Chris wasn’t allowed to cum. He still had his dogtail butt plug stuffed in his butt, which didn’t help anything. A night like this always meant something really amazing was about to happen…

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Story

A Day on the Market

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By Cutieboy90

All they needed was for someone to hold the sign for the flower stall at the Sunday market.

But it’s never that simple, not with Master Skylar involved.

Mitch sniffed in mild discomfort as the cool morning air and flower pollen tickled his nose. He’d grab a tissue, and maybe some Claritin, but his hands were tied. Literally.

Locked in a bulky wooden yoke, Mitch couldn’t move his hands within two feet of his head. As if that wasn’t enough, his hands had also been locked into thickly padded leather mitts before being placed in the yoke. The mitts couldn’t even be accessed unless the yoke was removed, and of course the only person with the key to unlock the yoke was… Master Skylar.

“It’s for publicity,” Skylar had said. “Just stand on the corner for a few hours, get people’s attention, and they’ll come buy flowers.”

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Story

A Day on the Farm

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By Cutieboy90

Come to the farm, they said.

The fresh air will do you some good, they said.

“And why the hell did I listen!?” Mitch huffed his annoyance through the wad of socks taped in his mouth. His breath visibly steamed in the crisp morning air. He glared watching each breath form and dissipate.

Mitch was pigtied with his wrists tied to his ankles in front of him. It forced him to curl up on himself and had quickly grown uncomfortable. The cold, hard ground he was sitting on didn’t help matters either. For now, Mitch rolled onto his back and stared up at the clouds. He figured by the light in the sky that he’d been bound for a few hours…

He’d been wearing boots, Carhartt overalls, gloves, a heavy coat, and a few layers of shirts expecting to be doing some farm work. Now all those rugged clothes hindered any chance he might have had to escape. The thick leather work gloves, for example, now as restrictive as any fistmitts he’d ever worn. His thermal undershirt squeezed his chest, pressing his piercings against his nips. Wired as they were, the irritation only served to make Mitch hornier and more frustrated than he already was.

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Story

A Day on the Beach

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By Cutieboy90

male bondage stories Cutieboy90They said it would be a relaxing vacation. They said it would be several care-free days of lounging on the beach and soaking up some tropical sun. They never said Mitch would be doing any of that.

Mitch growled into the thick towel knotted in his mouth. His tongue was dry and his lips felt chapped from being stretched and cleaved by the towel for so long. At least the towel had been clean. He sighed in exasperation.

“Be grateful, Mitch,” he told himself as he chewed on the gag. This was the only movement he was allowed, though. The rest of body had been rendered immobile for several hours, having been buried up to his neck in sand. His friends had prepared by digging the hole in advance; all they’d had to do was manhandle Mitch into it in the dim light of dawn and fill it back in. They’d been sure to pack the sand down tightly around him.

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Story

A Day on the Slopes

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By Cutieboy90

gay male BDSM fictionCome to Whistler, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.

Mitch grunted in frustration as he replayed the events of the last several days in his mind. He and his friends were avid skiers, so when they offered a week-long stay at Whistler, Mitch had of course taken them up on it. What he didn’t think about, though he now realized he should have, was payment. Mitch groaned. His body was sore. No, not from hours of black diamond runs, not at all. But from being left hogtied on the couch all day.

He was in his full gear, compression layers, long underwear, ski bib, a sweater, and parka. His thick socks, scarf, hat, and gloves were on too, as well as his goggles and boots. It looked hot as hell, and he certainly was. His hands were tied behind his back, with a simple chest harness. His feet were drawn up as tight as the thick layers of clothing allowed, and tied off to the harness. A rank sweaty sock had been stuffed in his mouth and tied in with another pair, compliments of his buds. The back of the gag was tied back to his boots, forcing his body into an uncomfortable arch.

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Story

Hunting Accident

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By Cutieboy90

Cutieboy90Fall was in the air this morning as Josh and Alex left their truck at the trailhead, gravel crunching under their boots. Early morning dewdrops still clung to the foliage and spider webs, and fog still obscured the treetops.

Alex surveyed the brush.

“Heel, boy.” Josh whistled. Alex quickly obeyed. Josh smiled. “Sorry boy, you won’t find anything here. There’ll be plenty further up, I promise.”

“Yes Sir,” Alex replied, readjusting the straps for his backpack.

“Good boy.”

It was quiet as they made their way along the trail. Alex gradually acclimated to the initially crisp smell of ferns and wet gravel. The trees grew thicker, casting shadow across the path. The flat gravel path began to narrow and slope, soon giving way to well-worn earth and natural forest floor.

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Story

Hired Help

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By Cutieboy90

Cutieboy90 videosSanchez pulled up in front of the Old McGriffith Farm, a dust cloud stirring up from the wheels of his F-250 as it bumped to a halt. Sanchez adjusted his tie and put on his big white hat and stepped out of the cab.

A big Chevy pulled up next to Sanchez. It was supposed to be blue, but the color had long been obscured by layers of dust. A lean muscular cowboy jumped down from the cab.

“Hey Mike,” Sanchez nodded. He and Mike had been buddies for years and worked several jobs together.

“So this is the place, huh?” Mike drawled. “Good chunk of land, no wonder they need help. Generous deal too.”

Sanchez nodded, pulling the ad out of his pocket. “And it’s a two-year contract. Gotta appreciate that job security.”

It was true enough. $60,000/ year salary plus earned bonuses. Healthcare, retirement plan, room and board supplied, and meals too. It was too good a deal to pass up, even if the farm was out in the middle of nowhere…

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Story

Screwed

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By Cutieboy90

cutieboy90“Uhh, are you sure about this?” I asked George for the hundredth time.

George’s scruffy blonde face looked up from the project on his bench. “‘Course I’m sure!” He blew across the surface of the wood, sending a cloud of powdery shavings into the air. “Now I think this’ll do.” He picked up the two blocks from the bench, and walked over to where I stood. I put the sketches down and held my arms out. George placed the blocks over my forearms and inspected the fit.

“Perfect!” He exclaimed. “How does it feel?”

I tried twisting my wrists side-to-side to gauge the clearance. “Yeah, it’s good…” There really wasn’t anything to complain about, no pinching, no tightness.

“Good.” George smiled as he tousled the wood dust out of his hair, and wiped at his brow with a rag. “Well, let’s get you in shall we? Clothes off!”

I began to take my clothes off, George lending an all-too eager hand. I blushed as the back of his hand brushed my skin. I liked George, yes. In fact, I’d always liked him. We’d been friends since we met in high school woodshop. We still made plenty of projects together in his garage-turned-workshop, but nothing quite like this…

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