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Dean’s Tickle Ecstasy

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Here’s more from Tickled Hard. In this video, this is Dean’s first time being tied up and tickled, and you can see in his eyes that he’s excited and a little apprehensive about it. Franco tickles his hot gymnast body on his torso and inner thighs, first with his fingers, then with long wispy feathers. Dean grins widely and laughs deeply from the tickle pleasures Franco is giving him. Franco blows raspberries on Dean’s ribs and abs, which they both find extra fun. After digging into Dean’s deep bellybutton with a wet finger, Franco tickles him on his pelvis, inner thigh and taint at the same time. Dean is startled by the sensation and gets quite a look on his face! Franco pulls down Dean’s underwear and tickles his sensitive inner thigh with his beard before moving to Dean’s size 9 feet. Franco pops off Dean’s running shoes and tickles him into ecstasy on his bare feet with a soap saver and grooming brush. He treats each foot separately, then both at the same time, which drives Dean crazy. Dean’s gravelly giggles become more and more shallow as he tries to catch his breath and begs for a break. Franco obliges, sucking Dean’s cock while he plays with his asshole. Dean’s knees spread wide and he thrusts his hips, moaning in pleasure as he shoots his juicy load. Franco sucks Dean dry, then continues stroking him, teasing his sensitive cock. For the final tickle, he digs deep into Dean’s bellybutton and ends with his armpits and ribs. It leaves Dean grinning from the experience and happy to come back for more.

this is Dean’s first time being tied up and tickled

this is Dean’s first time being tied up and tickled

this is Dean’s first time being tied up and tickled

 

Video available here

Site: Tickled Hard

Tickled Hard

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My Trip to Paris – Chapter 05

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By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 5: Home Is Where They Won’t Let You Leave

The sun hit my eyes and almost knocked me out; in those windowless rooms I’d forgotten that there was any such thing as sunlight.  I heard guards screaming around me; I felt my shoes smacking the concrete as I tried to run.  Then I heard “Squat!  Gear on the ground!  Squat!  Gear on the ground!  Squat DOWN!”  I saw lines of prisoners crouching, their gear stationed in front of them, and other prisoners, lowering their gear, preparing to squat.  Somebody—that old guy from the Uniform Room—stumbled, spilled his stack, then bowed and fumbled and bowed again, while a guard stood above him, shouting.  I made it to the third line and crouched, heart pumping out of my chest as the last of the prisoners got in position and the guards made a circle around us.  At least these guards didn’t have rifles.

But where was I?  It was a giant field covered with concrete—old concrete, the kind you see where some big building used to stand, and now there’s nothing left but the floor.  Around it, other old concrete, a city of old, yellowish buildings . . . .  What did Gordy say?  He said they’d repurposed some of the warehouses, and the old factory floors . . . .  Afterwards, they must have given all the buildings that coat of Soviet paint . . . .  Covers the weather damage, anyway . . . .  Smokestacks are still there . . . .  Must be the railroad on the other side . . . .  But thinking about real estate couldn’t make me forget the pain spreading up my legs.  The pain of having to squat on the pavement like a toad!  Whatever might exist in my head, my life was totally dependent on the choices of these men in their little light blue shirts.

Continue reading My Trip to Paris – Chapter 05 →

Daily Thread

Brutal Top Master Jack

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At BrutalTops, vicious Master Jack returns to complete the harsh treatment of sniveling worm elliott. He discovers the sub completely nude and orders him to get down onto all fours. Then he mounts the worm’s back and rides him around the room, all the time thrashing his bare arsecheeks with a cane.

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The sub’s arse is soon red raw and reveals deep sores as a result of the Master’s psychotic treatment. The sub is ordered to lick the feet of the Master and then a bridle is tightly fastened to his head so that the Master no longer has to listen to his muffled complaints. The top completes the transformation of the sub into an ass by ramming a tail up his slack arsehole before taking him on another circuit of the room.

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The Master thrashes the nude sub before kicking him harshly for his feeble disobedience. Then Jack pulls down his jeans to reveal a sweaty, odorous arsehole, which he proceeds to push into the sub’s face. Elliott is defenceless against the Master’s desires as he grinds his hips and pushes his hole right into the sub’s worthless face.

See more like this at Brutal Tops

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My Trip to Paris – Chapter 04

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By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 4: The First Time I Saw Paris

The bus seemed to be full; it must have made several other stops before getting to me.  Some of the passengers were dressed in solid orange, others in stripes.  A few were in normal clothes.  It was very quiet; the only sound was the rumble of the highway, the faint sigh of the A/C, and the rattling of shackles when somebody shifted his feet.  There was a guy in the seat next to me, a young guy with long blond hair—the kind of young guy that makes you feel old.  He was one of the prisoners in stripes, his yellow hair lying pitifully against the black-white bars on his jumpsuit.  From time to time he sniffled, and I knew he was crying.  I wanted to look out—to do something besides listen to my chains clattering every time I moved, but there were bars on the window and I couldn’t see much more than him, raising his hands to dab at his nose, and a blur of sky striped with steel on the other side of him.  The bus went fast.  Then we were off the freeway and driving through a town that had to be Paris.  Nothing else in the region had that beaten, rusted-out look.

The bus stopped for a train, and I saw the line of dead factories that followed the tracks.  After the last boxcar limped past we bumped across the rails and onto a wide street that should have been filled with cars and lined with businesses.  Should have, and wasn’t.  We were going slower, so I saw more, but all I could see was vacant lots, factories with rust creeping across their sides, and liquor stores with their windows blocked up.  Then, abruptly, the narrow lawns and the broken sidewalks and the parking spaces filled with derelict vehicles were replaced by a gray concrete wall rising next to the street, tall and long and getting longer as the bus slowed down.   And now it had stopped.

Continue reading My Trip to Paris – Chapter 04 →