Tag Archives: love

Duty

By Siratpdx

Recently, I connected with a young man of 25 over Scruff who was interested in me and wanted to explore and experience a deeper and more intense session with an older, more experienced person, focusing on impact and e-stim.  Our connection was very happenstance.  I had made a car trip from the west coast to Chicago a few months before, and I spent a night in a town near when he lives.  I am far from certain how the algorithms work, but I suggested that I ended up in his Scruff feed as an ‘echo’ of my presence from being in the area a few weeks before.

We chatted a few times over the phone and video.  I was impressed with him, and for me at least, it is not that often that I come across man who invokes more than a sense of chemistry, but a more intimate and spiritual connection that I would describe as limerence.  He is more than young enough to be my son, and in some ways we connected in that dad-son dynamic that only gay men really understand.

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The Jacket – Part 7

By Rubrpig

Sir and I finally managed to arrange vacation time so we could take the planned trip up the coast and onto Portland. As Sir did not have a vehicle we were taking my SUV. I spent the evening prior to our departure packing our gear into the SUV and getting things sorted out. Sir was relaxing as he watched me pack the gear he had decided to take with us and so I finally got everything packed and stowed in the vehicle.

The trip up the coastal highway was relaxing for both of us. We stopped at night and stayed at coastal inns and enjoyed ourselves. Each night after we had finished dinner and got back to the room, I was either in my straitjacket or zipped and laced tightly into the sleep sack. Sir had introduced me to the sleep sack a month or so ago and I had gradually got used to spending longer and longer time in it. I was now able to spend the night in it with only minor discomfort in my shoulders.

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One Year – Part 11

By Taurus

Part 11 – “Listening”

The torturous regime of flogging, meal, workout, meal, and back into the cage continued another two days.

James begged for mercy, to be let out of the dungeon in order to work out or maybe even breathe some fresh air on the outdoor sand track.

He was heard, but not in the way he might have liked. His pleas fell on a pair of intently listening ears, ears of a person who responded earnestly with myriad lashes.

Well, like the old saying goes, the flogging must go on. (This may be wrong, I advise against quotation.)

The only difference between these two days and the first was the absence of getting cum on himself, something he really did not want to happen again. He may be hot, but the dungeon was hotter, and because he marinated in sweat and drool and cum, he stank.

Smelled real bad.

More cum just means more suffering.

Continue reading One Year – Part 11