When you’re a duck and have places to be, but safety is key
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@michellesjanae
When you’re a duck and have places to be, but safety is key
Ricky and I had been workout buddies for about a year now. We’d had a few classes in college together—and after graduation, we both stuck around and lived on campus for another year. So it made sense that we started hanging out, mostly at the gym.
He’d been a lot scrawnier a year ago. But I’d worked him out hard. Put him through his paces. Pushed him into new regimens, better equipment, longer workouts—even got him to try a few supplements. And it was paying off.
“Flex,” I said. And Ricky, laying on the bed—looking up at me with those sad, confused, puppy dog eyes—couldn’t help himself. He put his hands behind his head and flexed his biceps for me.
I could smell his musky armpits from here. We’d just gotten back from the gym, you see, where Ricky here had just told me he was moving upstate. Wanted to try new things, he said. Get a new job, new girl, and new… friends.
“Flex,” I said again.
Ricky twisted into a new pose, flexing every muscle he could. Eyes searching for my approval—but not sure why he craved it.
Those “supplements” had beefed him up, sure. But they’d also dumbed him down. Made him more… suggestible. Compliant.
Obedient.
I stood up and started walking toward the bed. “Good boy, Ricky.”
I saw his dick twitch through his shorts. He flexed even harder for me—sweating, breathing hard through his mouth, not realizing his tongue was slowly falling out.
“Put your arms down,” I said with a smirk. And he obeyed.
I was in front of the bed now. His eyes level with the bulge in my workout shorts. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it. I nudged it casually with my hand and watched him subconsciously lean a little closer to it. This was too easy.
I slowly reached down and put my hand under his thin wife beater—feeling his smooth abs with my fingertips. He squirmed—looking up at me with innocent, half-lidded eyes.
“You wanna take your shirt off?” I asked excitedly.
I scratched his belly—his eyes widened and he let out a moan before he could stop himself. I could see his hard dick jutting out from his shorts.
Taking that as my answer, I pulled his shirt over his head. He instinctively flexed his chest for me. I bent down and scratched it. “That’s a good boy.”
He was too humiliated to make eye contact with me. But I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he panted.
I leaned close to his ear. “Flex, puppy.”
Ricky whined softly as he put his arms between his legs like a little puppy and flexed as hard as he could—still panting as he looked up at me. Wanting another belly rub so badly.
I placed my hand on his stomach and kept it still—teasing him with my fingers, making him moan and beg for it. He let out a low whine and humped at the air, staring up at me with pleading eyes.
I smirked down at him—then scratched again and watched his frown turn into a big, dumb, happy smile. He panted even harder, then put a closed fist on his dick and started thrusting, trying to cum.
“NO. No, no, no.”
Ricky immediately took his fist off his dick, whimpering up at me for forgiveness. With one hand, I pushed him onto his back. “That’s not how we behave.”
He looked at me, panting and with his legs up in the air—part of him wishing this nightmare would end and more and more of him giving into the idea of being my dumb, obedient, horny jockpup.
“Take your shoe off.”
He did, with trembling hands.
“Put your face in there, puppy.”
Ricky looked at me. Looked at the shoe. Looked back at me, pleading.
“Stick your snout in the shoe, dummy. You love shoes.”
He tried to fight it, but I could see him salivating as the shoe got closer to his face. Nervously, he rubbed his nose lightly against his gym shoe, breathing in the scent… then he dove in and took a huge whiff. Then another. And another.
“That’s a good puppy. You can start a whole new life here with me. Bring me the paper in the morning, do tricks for the guys at the gym, chew on your gym shoes while I’m at work—”
Ricky whimpered, his face not leaving the shoe.
“Oh, it won’t be so bad.” I leaned down and grabbed his cock through his pants. “You might even enjoy it.”
He let out another moan and pushed his face even deeper into the shoe—humping his dick against my hand like the horny puppy he was.
I put a hand on his stomach and started scratching again—pushing the shoe onto his face. Inside, I could hear his tongue lapping around. He whimpered again. Then let out a playful bark.
I scratched harder.
“There’s a good boy.”
Jockpup
“Hey, Chris,” I said, walking up to the handsome jock. He was just here by himself, throwing a ball in the air and catching it, probably waiting for his buddies to turn up. He saw me, and frowned.
“Who are you again?” the quarterback scoffed. He looked at me like I was vermin, visibly annoyed by the fact I was trying to talk to a guy like him. It seemed right on brand for mister Team Captain to not even recognize me, despite the fact we had been in the same class since middle school.
“Oh, I’m no one,” I said. “Just wanted to check on my favorite pupper.”
His frown deepened, and he looked around. It was just the two of us, in the park. There were no dogs anywhere to be found. Chris scoffed again, and tossed the ball up once more.
“Freak,” he mumbled.
I grinned, and clicked my fingers. This time, the ball missed his hand, and fell into the grass. Chris’s pretty eyes glazed over, his strong arms fell slack alongside his body, and his mouth fell open. Just like that, the King of High School lost control.
“What’s the matter, Chris? Feelin’ a little dazed?”
I walked even closer to my favorite jock, and stroked his handsome face. Chris didn’t respond, just stood there like a lifeless piece of meat. God, he was so hot. I felt his chiseled jaw, and squeezed his thick neck. He was everything I’d ever wanted and more, the perfect high school jock, a gorgeous embodiment of the football stereotype. He and his cheerleader girlfriend ruled the school as the ultimate senior couple. Everyone knew him, everyone loved him. I’d heard he even got a scholarship to join the team at Notre Dame.
I had always had a crush on Chris, of course. For years, I’d dreamed about his sculpted body, his soft lips, his juicy cock. Those dreams were the closest I ever came to him. A guy like that would never even bother to be aware of my existence, no matter how hard I tried. He was the jock, I the nerd; all I could do was stare and admire from afar.
Or so I thought.
Right now, mister perfect was under my spell. I’d never even believed in hypnotization, always wrote it off as a hoax, until I came across that small, old book in the library. ‘How To Tame a Man’, it was called. I was surprised the library would have a book I assumed to be about some kind of BDSM dominance thing, so I picked it up and started browsing through it. Suffice to say, I got hooked pretty quickly.
Flash forward several months, and here I was, completely in control of the high school quarterback. I had been training him for weeks now, and the stud never even knew.
“C’mon, let’s get you out of those silly clothes,” I said. I pulled his jersey over his head, and brought it to my nose. Grass, sweat, cologne. That unmistakeable musk of a fertile young buck, always horny and on the hunt for pussy. I inhaled his scent and felt my boner twitch in response.
Then I pulled down his shorts, too, and helped him out his sweaty Nikes. For a moment, I was just mesmerized by the sight of him. Half-naked, in nothing but his CK boxer-briefs and socks, Chris looked like marble statue come to life. His pecs and abs were like armor, sculpted to perfection by years and years of playing sports. His arms and legs were thick and strong, adorned with veins that kept his muscles functioning. His bulge was huge, his ass full and plump, and his perky nips looked more inviting than ever.
Chris was my Ken doll - and I was his demise.
“Now, boy, you’re missing something, aren’t you?”
A soft whine escaped the quarterback’s throat. He couldn’t speak anymore, in the state he was in. It was a wonder he was even still standing on his feet. I pushed him to his knees, and revealed the black leather collar I had brought along. On a small, metal tag, his name had been engraved.
He saw his collar, and whined again. I saw his massive boner already twitching in his underwear, programmed to respond to this. He recognized this collar, knew he needed it around his neck, craving my approval.
I gladly put it on him. Mister Quarterback, collared and half-naked in the park, drooling spit onto his own chest. Beautiful.
“That’s a good boy,” I said. Chris shuddered in response, a wet spot appearing in his CKs. His tongue fell from his mouth, and he looked up at me like a proud, happy pup. “Let’s get outta here, before those idiot friends of yours turn up. C’mon, boy!”
There we went. My half-naked Chris on all fours, collared and leashed like a fucking dog. He stayed by my side, pretty and obedient, and let me take him through the park, across the street, toward my house. Anyone would have been able to see us, had they stepped outside. Anyone could’ve taken a picture of the jock, crawling on the street, and ruined his life forever. I wouldn’t have cared.
But he was lucky. We made it to my place without seeing anybody, and I took him into the garage. My parents were working late, so we had the whole evening for ourselves.
“On your back, Chris,” I said, closing the door behind us. I took off his leash, and the muscle stud quickly lay onto his back, despite the harsh concrete floor. His tongue still hanging out, his bulge hard and wet. The quarterback threw me an innocent, brainless look, and I kneeled down next to him.
“Who’s a good boy?” I chuckled, scratching his washboard abs, “Who’s a good boy?”
He let out a strange sound - something in between a grunt and a bark - and cocked his head, his hands and feet lifted up like paws.
I’m a good boy, yes, me, me, Master, pick me! I’m a real good boy, me, I swear!
I pulled down his underwear a little, and that big, eager rod came poking out like a tail. Drops of precum already glided down his shaft. I took his glans between my fingers and started rubbing, making my boy groan and whine with excitement.
Soon enough, he was humping my hand, desperately trying to shoot his load. Before he would cum prematurely, I released his cock, and the boy let out another beautifully frustrated sound.
“You know the rules, Chris. Before you get to shoot your juice, you make sure your bladder is empty,” I said. The jock stared at me, puppy-eyed, and quickly got to his knees again. He did know this rule, yes, he knew it very well.
Empty bladder. Gotta empty bladder, and Master will let me shoot.
I pointed to his pair of Nikes in the corner, and Chris scurried over without hesitation. He got to the shoes, lifted his right leg, and let his stiff cock hang above the pair. Such a good boy. I laughed out loud as the stud started pissing into his very own, precious Nikes.
My handsome, square-jawed quarterback, releasing a stream of gold into his shoes. I made sure to capture every second on my phone. This was so much better than anything I’d ever dreamed of. The jock was actually here, in my garage, crawling around in a dog’s collar and his underwear, humiliating himself. It all felt too good to be true.
When both his expensive shoes were drenched in urine, Chris hurried back to me. He lay on his back and stared at me with anticipation.
“Very good boy,” I snickered, feeling those massive pecs for myself. I pressed both thumbs down on his large nips and started rubbing them, making the straight stud squirm and whine. He was so sensitive, so easy to play with. Those tits were hardwired to his fat dick, tender like a woman’s breasts. Only the slightest touch could make Chris howl in response.
His whining grew louder, the harder I tugged at his teats. He was getting close again. His hips started bucking into me, his beefy chest quickly rising and falling at the pace of his breath.
Please, sir, please, please. I’m such a good boy. Please, please.
With a good couple jerks, the quarterback came all over his abs. I felt his cock throb in my hands, warm and hard, so musky and sweaty. His muscles tensed, and he moaned aloud, sounding more like an animal in heat than a 19-year-old boy. Cum splattered all across his torso. It was beautiful.
“What a nice, big load, Chris!” I laughed, “You been saving up for me, huh?”
The big jock stared at me with a mixture of shame and excitement, panting heavily as his orgasm faded. Even after shooting all that semen, his cock stayed rock-hard.
I took the boxer-briefs off him, his socks too, and made him sit up on his knees. He kept his hands up like paws, and I held a finger before his face. The dumb, collared stud followed it with his eyes, sperm dripping down his abs, trickling from his boner. A string of saliva leaked from his open mouth.
“Now, time for your training,” I said. “If you do well, I’ll know that you’re a good boy. And only good boys get to cum some more, don’t they, Chris?”
He whined again, his gaze fixed on my finger.
The poor jock wanted to be a good boy so bad, so, so bad, it was all that mattered, he had to show Master he was the best boy of all. I told him to stay, and started taking off my jeans. As soon as I felt the air on my underwear, I saw the scent hit my stud. Chris sniffed, eyes growing wild with excitement, shifting in his spot. Cock. He smelled cock. This was the ultimate treat for him.
He wanted to leap forward, clearly, but I held my finger before his face again, and he let out a nervous whine.
“Remember your training, boy,” I said. “Crawl over, slowly, and sniff Master’s dick. Nice and gentle, like a well behaved pup.”
With his tongue still hanging from his mouth, the naked quarterback moved closer. He was so nervous, so eager, I felt his excitement in the air. But he knew he had to behave, no matter how hard it was. His eyes were stuck on my groin, and Chris slowly brought his nose to my bulge.
One little sniff. A shiver visibly traveled down his body, a weak groan escaped his throat.
It smelled so good, so good. He couldn’t help himself.
Anxiously, he brought his tongue closer to my cock. Before it could actually touch the fabric, I warned him.
“Uh uh, Chris. I didn’t say you could taste yet. Just sniff.”
The quarterback whined and whined, burying his face in my crotch. I knew it smelled too good for him, too perfect to resist. I had made him addicted to my dick in every way possible. All he wanted was to take it between his lips.
“Uugghh… P…l-lea…se…” the jock managed to utter, humping my foot.
Hmm. Turned out he was stronger than I thought. He really shouldn’t have been able to speak anymore, at this point. I slapped his head, and Chris winced pathetically.
“No people sounds for you, bitch,” I said. “Now keep sniffing, and don’t you dare use your tongue.”
Poor thing. In this state, there wasn’t anything worse than to make Master angry. All he wanted was to be a good boy, to make me happy, and he always tried his utmost best for that.
But today, I guess it was too much for him.
After a couple more sniffs, the stud grunted weakly, shuddering from head to toe. His shoulders quivered, and he let his head hang in shame. I looked to see a puddle of white on the floor, partly dripping off my shoe. He had shot again.
“Bad boy,” I sighed, hitting his head. Chris whimpered in fear, too ashamed to look at his Owner. “I didn’t tell you you could shoot, did I? Better fucking lick that up, and quick.”
The quarterback did as he was told, lapping up his own spunk from my foot and the concrete floor. It was still a gorgeous sight, of course, having the muscular jock slobber up his semen because I wanted him to.
When he finished, he tentatively looked up at me, guilty and desperate for compassion. I just couldn’t stay angry at a face like that. I ruffled his hair, and scratched his nose a little.
“We’ll have to keep training that, boy. You really should be able to control yourself better, by now.”
Those blue eyes stared right into mine.
I’m sorry, Master, so, so sorry. I’ll be a good boy again, next time, I promise, I’m sorry.
To comfort him, I finally let the hunk lick my boner. I pulled my underwear down, and Chris’s face lit up like floodlights on a football field. With those muscular arms, he steadied himself as he brought his tongue to my shaft, trembling with excitement. I felt his warm, wet mouth on my cock, and gasped. If only he knew what he was doing, the arrogant jock. I would love to see the look of disgust and self-hatred on his pretty face, knowing what he had done. But for now, Chris was gone - and a nervous, eager little jockpup had taken his place.
Watching him piss in his shoes, cream all over himself, then licking up spunk from the floor; it had all gotten my boner way too hard, already. I was too close. It took but a couple licks from the stud before I growled aloud, grabbed his hair, and planted my seed all over his face. Chris held his mouth open, looking happier than ever, hoping for some of the sperm to land on his tongue.
“Fuck, boy,” I moaned, “That felt very good.”
The collared quarterback sat there on his knees, tongue hanging from his mouth, joyfully looking up at me as the spunk dripped down his cheeks. I had him lick my cock clean, then told him to get on his back again.
I stood by his side for a moment, admiring that muscular body, gleaming with sweat, saliva, and semen. I took my phone, and started recording.
“Are you having fun, Chris?”
He looked so happy, so excited, with his hands lifted up like paws. The stud just panted for a while; then, with effort, he released a good, proper bark. I grinned at his proud expression.
“Good boy,” I said, “What is it you want, Chris? Why don’t you show me what you want?”
I didn’t have to tell him twice. Quickly, the handsome quarterback lifted his knees to his head, almost curling up into a ball, bringing his strong legs upward. Another bark followed, and he used his hands to spread his plump ass-cheeks.
Such a good boy. Chris was showing me his hole.
I put my phone away, and kneeled behind him. His pussy was still smooth and hairless from the last time I’d waxed him. The jock whined a little, impatient as ever, and I spat on his entrance.
“You want me to finger you again, huh, Chris?” I asked, slowly rubbing his hole.
Please, sir, please, please, finger me, oh please, sir, I’m such a good boy.
I let the first digit slip into his pussy, and he moaned softly. Inch by inch, I pushed into my beautiful jock. He whined and whimpered until I found that magic spot inside of him, and started rubbing his prostate. Two fingers went up there, then three.
Fuck, he loved that.
Within seconds, a weak howl rose from his throat, and Chris shuddered into another orgasm. Folded up like this, his cock sprayed cum all over his face, some even landing in his mouth.
Hell, I wanted to fuck that bubble butt for myself, but I knew he wasn’t ready for it. Even after weeks of training, that was still too much. It would probably overload him, he’d go into shock, and I’d risk losing all the progress we made.
So for now, I kept it at fingering.
Even after his third ejaculation for the day, the quarterback stayed rock-hard. I pushed another finger into his tight ass, and continued playing with him for the next hour.
More cumshots, more whining and howling. Chris was panting furiously, at this point, after I’d drained a fifth load from his fat cock. Still, I kept on ramming my fingers in his cunt, tugging at his dick with my other hand. He whined and whined, shaking and writhing on the ground, staring at me with those beautiful eyes.
“C’mon, boy, that all you got?” I laughed, fingering and jerking as hard as I could, “You’re a stud, Chris, you got plenty more seed to give. I want all of it!”
Turned out he did have a shitload of spunk in those bull balls. Only with his tenth orgasm, the quarterback’s boner stopped squirting. His young body had no more semen to give.
I finally let him go, and Chris lay panting on the floor, weak and exhausted.
His face, his neck, his pecs, his chiseled abs - everything gleamed with sperm. Even his tongue, which always hung from his mouth, was white and dripping jizz. His beefy chest was heaving up and down, and he was clearly having trouble keeping his eyes open.
Poor thing. He had been such a good boy, tonight. I would reward him next time.
I kneeled down by his head, and took it in my lap. Still, Chris kept looking up at me, hoping he’d made me proud. Hoping he’d been a good, good boy.
“Aw, he’s a little tired, huh?” I said, gently scratching his chin. I knew all of this was terribly draining for him, being kept in this hypnotized state for hours. That, and having to cum ten times in two hours.
“Don’t worry, boy. You were good. Let’s get you cleaned up, and I’ll take you back to the park.”
“Ugh, fuck,” Chris growled. Great. Some fucking dog pissed in my shoes again. That’s the second pair this month. Can people not just tame their fucking pets?
He threw the ruined Nikes in the trashcan, and started walking home barefoot.
It was late - most houses had gotten dark already. Seemed like he’d been working out in the park longer than usual. His friends hadn’t turned up, but he didn’t really care. Chris always worked better on his own, anyway. Barefoot in the grass, just him and a ball. Undisturbed.
He’d run laps, done pushups, practiced throwing, and everything. It had clearly done the trick for his muscles; he ached all over. His neck hurt, too, but some ice would fix that.
Instead of going over to his girlfriend’s, like usual, Chris decided to go home. He wasn’t in the mood anymore, after all that working out, even though he’d been horny all damn day. For some reason, his dick hurt, too.
Right now, all he wanted to do was sleep.
As soon as Chris walked into the house, Bud, his family dog, came running with all his usual excitement. The quarterback kneeled down, laughing, and wrestled with the big Samoyed like he always did.
These days, their bond was somehow better than ever.
“Hey, Buddy! Missed me?” Chris laughed. “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy? You wanna be the good boy, don’t you?”
I’m straight. I swear.
It’s just that - Coach was kinda mad at me, see, since I’d been cutting practice and all. I was out partying more than I was thinking about football. All I cared about was girls.
So he punished me.
It happened so fast, I don’t even remember how it happened exactly; all I know is suddenly I’m being pinned down in the shower by my teammates, fully naked after practice. No matter how I scream and shout, they won’t let go.
Then Coach walks in, right - telling me how disappointed he was, saying I was letting the team down and everything. Humiliating me before the entire team. I tried to apologize, but they wouldn’t listen, Coach kept saying I needed to be put in my place - and before I knew it, they had put a cage on my cock.
Locked up my fucking dick.
Everyone laughed, took pictures, mocked my new accessory. I begged Coach to take it off, but he just laughed with the rest of them. Said I didn’t need my dick, anyway. Said I’d always been the one with the best ass on the team.
First, I didn’t understand what he meant. Just cause I wouldn’t be able to get laid or jerk off for a couple days wasn’t gonna change me. I figured Coach simply wanted to take my mind off the chicks, and focus on football instead.
And it worked pretty well. I just had to keep going to practice, and eventually, the man wouldn’t be mad anymore. Or so I hoped.
But days turned into weeks, and Coach still wouldn’t take off my cage. I was going insane, humping everything like a horny dog, desperately trying to get myself off. I humped my pillow, the bed, my bag - hell, even my roommate, when he was passed out drunk. But nothing worked.
Eventually, I turned up at Coach’s office, crying my eyes out, begging him to let me cum. It had been over a month since I’d even touched my dick, at this point, and I couldn’t take it anymore.
Coach just sat there, grinning at me with from behind his desk. He told me to strip down to my jockstrap, which I did, then forced me on my hands and knees.
“Suck my dick,” he told me, “Maybe then I’ll set you free.”
Now, I would never, ever, ever touch another man’s penis. Not for my life. But you don’t understand what it’s like, dude… I was so unbearably horny, all the fucking time, from the moment I woke up to the moment I dry-humped myself to sleep - I couldn’t focus, could only ever think about sex, which made me even hornier in turn. It was hell. I would do anything to rid myself of this nightmarish cock cage. Even if it meant giving my football Coach a blowjob.
So I did it. I put my head between the man’s thighs, and sucked on his dick the best I could. I tried to do it like all the girls did with me, but it was a fucking struggle.
After a while, Coach just grabbed my hair and rammed his cock down my throat, fucking my face with full force. He didn’t give a shit that I was crying and gagging - he just wanted to feel my hole. Just when I thought he was gonna shoot, when I hoped it would all be over soon, Coach pulled out of my mouth and told me to bend over his desk instead.
Then, I knew what he wanted.
All those comments about my ass, always telling me I was thicker than any girl he’d ever seen, always slapping my butt during games; it all made sense in that moment. I cried and begged like a little bitch, but he didn’t listen.
Coach pushed me over his desk, ass out toward him, and pressed his leaking boner at my entrance. He stuffed my mouth with my shirt to muffle my cries, then pushed into me without a sliver of mercy. And Coach was far from small. It felt like he was splitting me apart.
He fucked me long, and hard, and deep. The kind you see in porn, where the guy fucks the girl as if she is some kinda unbreakable toy. His hips slammed so hard into mine I could already feel them bruising. It went on, and on, and on, without the man ever reaching his climax.
His torso pushed me down on the desk, crushing me under his weight, knocking the air from my lungs. Everything hurt. My ass was burning so much, I thought I was gonna start to bleed, it felt like my sphincter was actually tearing more with every thrust.
But… when the pain faded, after maybe half an hour, and my tears had dried… it felt good. Really good.
The kinda good I had been missing for over a month now. My cock was trying to grow hard in its cage, and it felt like there were fucking fireworks in my ass. Instinctively, I started bucking my hips into Coach’s pole. He laughed.
“There we go, buddy,” he said, slapping my ruined ass, “Move those fuckin’ hips. Feels good to get porked by your Coach, huh?”
I was too far gone to remember I liked girls. All I wanted was more, more dick, more Coach, more and more and more until I would finally be pushed over the edge. He was right; I didn’t need my dick. My ass was making me feel things I’d never felt before.
“Ooohhh…. f-fuckk y-yesss, C-Coach…”
It wasn’t long before the man bred me, shooting a massive load into my guts. Not like that was the end of it, though. For the rest of the night, Coach had me in every corner of his office, pounding my ass for hours straight. I didn’t even care that my cock was still locked up. Coach’s dick was all the dick I needed.
That night, something changed within me.
I’m Coach’s bitch boy now.
I don’t really have a choice, you know. He’s the only one with the key to my dick. As long as he keeps me locked up, the only source of pleasure I have is my prostate - so I just have to make-do. Coach and my teammates fuck me pretty much every day, though, so there’s plenty of pleasure I get. I’d never thought I’d enjoy being a cumdump this much.
Everyone keep saying that if I keep being their good little slut, keep riding that dick like a champ, my penis is finally gonna get unlocked again.
But… to be honest, I don’t think Coach is ever gonna take off that cage. And… I think I don’t even really want him to, anymore.
“Impressive,” I said, watching the young buck flex for me. He was clearly proud of the body he’d built for himself, and he had reason to be; every inch of him radiated masculine perfection.
He had the legs of a sprinter, the washboard abs of an Instagram model, the pecs of a powerlifter, the arms of a wrestler. His handsome young face matched beautifully with the rest of his chiseled physique.
“I’ve been going to the gym for like five years, now,” the blond stud grinned, lifting those arms to showcase his big guns, “Really starting to pay off, as you can see.”
I nodded, intoxicated by his body.
What a cocky little slut. Running around in those tiny booty shorts, oiled up by his own sweat. He knew he’d catch the attention of anyone he’d come across, and that’s exactly what he loved.
Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t just any ordinary passer-by.
Just when the hunk was too busy staring at his own biceps, I rushed forward and stabbed the syringe into his plump chest. He yelped, wincing at the sudden pain, staring in horror at the big needle. “What the fuck?!” he exclaimed.
I watched him yank the syringe back out, but it was too late. Within seconds, the sedative hit his bloodstream. Paralyzing that perfect body with ease.
I walked back to my car with the slut draped over my shoulder, and tossed him into the trunk.
When he woke up again, the blond Adonis was naked, strapped up in the horrific machinery that filled my lab. He started squirming, as they always do, raging and bucking in his bonds like a rabid horse. Screaming and shouting that he was gonna kill me.
I watched him thrash around, and rubbed my bulge impatiently.
The stud was laid out on a metal table, tilted at a 45 degree angle so I could look him in the eyes. His strong limbs were trapped in solid titanium compartments, all the way up to his knees and elbows, rendering his supple muscles completely useless. Several small tubes were feeding ominous concoctions into his veins - and one such concoction had turned his fat, limp member into a magnificent boner that was worthy of the gods. I’d known it since the moment I saw him. This young bull was perfect for my experiments.
“L-let me go!!!” he yelled.
“Sorry, handsome. I can’t do that. I have worked for years to perfect this machine before us, this absolute marvel of science, and you happen to be the ideal subject to test it out.”
I pressed a button, and the first cables came to life. Tubes and wires started crawling from every corner, moving like snakes through the room, searching for the body heat of the helpless beauty. He watched with terror as the tentacles approached.
“W-what’s happening?” the stud squealed, desperately trying to break free, “What are you gonna do to me?!”
I chuckled. The first tube had reached him, now, and nestled itself in the boy’s sweaty armpit. It looked like a small vacuum cleaner - and it had similar intentions. As it fastened on his pit and started sucking with no remorse, the muscly hunk yelped once more.
“This machine was designed to extract the fluids from a male body,” I explained. “Your sweat. Your urine. And, most importantly of all, your valuable semen.”
Another tube had reached its destination. This one found the boy’s sensitive tit, and latched on to it like a hungry little lamb. With a needle, it injected all sorts of stimulative substances right into the nipple - and then it started to suck. The poor Adonis whined and struggled as felt his teat puffing up and being milked.
“See, you are the living embodiment of masculinity, pretty boy,” I said. “Muscular, handsome, athletic. You are physically perfect in every way. In turn, your fluids carry that same perfection with them. I want to harvest that perfect essence. All of it.”
He wasn’t really listening anymore. More and more tubes sped toward his helpless body, quickly diving onto him. One cable clicked itself shut around his enormous shaft, and started squirting lube and other stimulatives on his tool. Another grabbed his pink glans, using a kind of speculum to open his urethra - so that yet another tube could ram itself into there.
The stud screamed at the top of his lungs. I knew he could feel it traveling all the way down his cock. Tubes and wires had wrapped around his balls, sucking and injecting loads of chemicals into his sack, squeezing it tightly. Others had found his thick ass, and pried open his virgin hole with well-designed claws. There was nothing he could do.
“S-STOP!!!” the hunk cried, when dozens of tentacles slammed into his lubed-up pussy. They were like animals, fighting to get into his warm hole, more and more and more until nothing else could fit. Maybe fifteen, twenty cables and tubes were up there, stretching his poor entrance beyond repair. They moved and coiled like snakes in a pit, all trying to get as far into his ass as possible. Tears were already streaming down the stud’s pretty face.
“Do you feel how eager they are to enter you?” I grinned, “These will stimulate your prostate to help you ejaculate without pause. The injections into your testicles make sure you will produce semen at the same rate that you shoot it out. It will probably render you infertile in the long run, but it is perfect for now.”
He couldn’t even talk anymore. Tubes had found their way into his mouth, his nose, pumping and sucking as I had programmed them to do. Wires were sucking the sweat from his abs, milking his tits like udders, tugging at his boner with incredible speed. The muscular beauty could only writhe and suffer in this cruel nightmare.
“The tubes in your mouth will keep you alive and hydrated. To some degree, at least. They provide you with water and nutrients, which your body will turn into more sweat and sperm for me. In a way, you will become part of the machine itself. Isn’t that interesting?”
A piteous howl echoed through the lab as the first semen was milked from his ripe man-meat. He shuddered and spasmed on the table, raped and robbed of his precious spunk, sobbing and whining like a little bitch. I watched the gobs of white travel all the way through the translucent tube, into a massive tank at the other side of the room. Perfect.
As promised, the ejaculation didn’t stop. Load after load spewed forth from his penis, brutally harvested by the tentacles. The stud was held in an excruciating state of ecstasy and agony. It would be interesting to see how long his heart could handle this.
I watched him suffer for a couple hours. When I got tired, I wished him good night, turned the lights off, and went to bed.
I had wanted to play with him some more, but there was no hurry. When his heart would give out, somewhere in the next few days, the machine would simply electrocute him back to life without having to pause its harvest for a second. According to my calculations, I should be able to keep him functional for seven to nine months, at least.
With a bit of luck, maybe even a whole year.
The stud was gonna be here for a while.
heyy! with school starting again, I decided to combine a lot of helpful post, so you can rock the new school year! I’ve spent quite some time going through different masterposts and the ones i included here are very helpful resources. good luck for the new school year! <3
STUDYING
study effectively
revise method
take a break
study journal
planning the perfect study schedule
all the things that got me studying after one year of living through tv-show characters and wasting time on youtube (be honest, we all need this)
how to memorize
flashcards
preparing for exams
how to pull an all-nighter (but pls only do this in extreme situations)
how i study
SCHOOL
how to wear what you want to school
first day of class
emergency kit
list of tips (this is super helpful)
test taking tips
help! i hate my teacher
how to annotate
NOTE TAKING
how to take notes from a textbook
tips
what to do when you ruined your notes
upgrade your notes
ESSAYS
five paragraph essay
how to write 20 pages
battling essays
STATIONERY
essentials
backpack buying guide
cute and cheap stationery
LANGUAGES
tips + resources
different ways to learn a language
how to learn a language by doing nothing
SELF CARE / PERSONAL
self care
some advice
back to school glow up
morning routine
night routine
skin care
stress route
mental health tips
school and heartbreak
tests for when you don’t know what to do with your life
burnout - a guide for students
FOOD
study foods
ideas
easy recipes for students
ORGANIZATION
organize & refresh your phone and laptop https://youtu.be/3b00aqUqoZI
staying organized
guide to bullet journals
bujo for students
PRODUCTIVITY
beat procrastination
how to increase productivity
sort out tasks
self-discipline
MOTIVATION
study moods
motivation
gentle reminder
how to motivate yourself to start studying
MUSIC
mildliner inspired study playlists
best spotify playlists and albums for your study session
playlists for different moods
study music
PRINTABLES
binder covers
grade tracker
study pack (task tracker, formula list, habit tracker, task tracker)
go to sleep
back to school kit (class data, study group sheet, supplies list)
APPS
google chrome extensions
my favorite study apps
apps for students
Might be a little darker than usual. Depends on your tastes, I guess. Anyway, read at your own discretion.
“S-stop,” Chris sobbed, tears rolling down his cheeks, “P-please… s..top….”
“Oh, come on, pretty boy,” I chuckled, “Where’s that million dollar smile of yours? That cute little grin that makes all your Instagram followers go wild? Can’t you give me some of that?”
I was pushing a big, brutal dildo up his perfect bubble butt, stretching that virgin hole without remorse. The muscular stud was writhing weakly in his bonds, gleaming with sweat from head to toe, exhausted after hours of fighting with the ropes that kept him secured to the table. His strong legs were raised in stirrups, giving me full access to his cute little innocent pucker.
“P-please,” the hunk cried, “L-let me go…”
“Pfff,” I scoffed, pushing the huge toy all the way in, “You California boys are always so quick to whine. Can’t fuckin’ take anything. We haven’t even started with the fun part, Chrissy.”
The straight stud was shaking his head, softly crying and begging for mercy. I grinned at the sight, and let my hand roam his beautifully sculpted torso. What a lucky catch, he was. My cellar hadn’t seen such a pretty boy in a while. I loved the feeling of his washboard abs, his rippling obliques under my fingers, and I gently squeezed those beefy pecs. Every inch of him was packed with muscle, a body straight from a fucking superhero comic book. A real fitness addict, this guy. Looking so damn good was gonna cost him dearly.
I grabbed his exposed, limp cock, and gave it a few tugs. Chris was certainly well-endowed, too. Even his dick was beautiful, goddamnit - perfectly sized, perfectly shaped. Cut, and not too veiny. I’d gotten myself a real mister Perfect.
When he saw the big syringe in my hand, the boy started crying even harder, struggling with the ropes once more. “N-no… p-please….” he sobbed, “Please, please, d-dont… n-no….”
I ignored his pathetic whining, took his big tool in my hand, and brought the needle to the base of his cock. A loud yelp escaped the stud’s throat as I pierced his skin, injecting the liquid into the most sensitive part of his body. It was an experimental variety of a certain blue medicine, which would keep his rod painfully hard for the next couple hours. Way too experimental to be considered ‘safe’, of course, but that didn’t matter. He was expendable, anyway.
I stepped back and watched his body react to the substance. Poor Chris frowned, his pretty face glowing up as his temperature skyrocketed. His veins popped, little beads of sweat started appearing all over his muscular physique, and he groaned in between sobs as he stared at his crotch in horror. The hunk’s beautiful cock engorged within seconds. It grew, and grew, and grew, until it was standing fully erect, throbbing and pulsating visibly. Chris’ face was contorted with pain. He was writhing like a maggot, unable to escape the horrendous torture, and he’d never looked more gorgeous.
“There we go,” I laughed, grabbing his artificially hardened dick to hear him yelp in agony. “Now the real fun can begin.”
18 hours later…
“How you holding up, California boy?” I chuckled, lovingly stroking my muscular victim. Chris’ eyes had rolled back into his head, and his tongue hung from his open mouth. He was gone. Poor thing. All those hours of torture had left him completely brain-dead, covered in bruises and scratches, and he could barely even muster up the energy to whimper softly as my hand moved over his sun-kissed skin.
His nipples were red and swollen, two beautiful, painful nubs on his mountainous pecs. I tapped the large needles that pierced them, just to make him wince and moan a little. During our playtime, Chris’ titties had proven to be very sensitive, so I had really taken my time perforating them as I pleased. No ice, no anesthesia, or anything. Just some big, sharp needles, and my insatiable sadism. Hearing the beautiful jock crying, screaming, and begging for mercy as I pierced his cute nipples, was indescribable. His pain was like music to my ears, and the more I heard, the more I craved.
My hand moved further down, over his bruised abs, which were covered in swathes of semen. A trail of the boy’s potent cum ran from his forehead all the way down to here, illustrating perfectly where his own loads had hit him. I scooped some up, and brought my finger to his mouth. Chris was too weak to protest as I smeared his sperm all over his lips and tongue, over those perfect white teeth and into his throat.
“Tastes nice, huh?” I grinned, patting the bruises on his six pack to hear him groan some more. I’d really let myself go, there. Using my fists on those shredded abs had been a great way to get out some frustration. I’d bashed them with my hands until they turned to mush, then I’d turned to other tools. Iron knuckles, a baseball bat, a metal rod. Whatever I could use to make him writhe in pain.
Even further down, of course, was the cream of the crop. The real pièce de résistance. Of all his body parts, Chris’ genital region had endured the most.
His dick was still caught in a painful erection, even after 18 hours of torture and numerous ejaculations. The medicine had certainly done its job. I had tied a rope around the base of his shaft, and another one around his balls, tightly squeezing his junk. The one around his sack I’d attached to a pulley on the ceiling, keeping his poor testies stretched and strained at all times.
That wasn’t the only thing his balls had had to endure. I’d also decorated them with countless alligator clips, and fried the hell out of ‘em. Nothing better than the sight and smell of warm, toasted stud nuts. I really hoped dear Chris wasn’t planning on ever having any kids, because after all those volts and amps, that ship had surely sailed.
Then on to his dick. My God. I’d really outdone myself, this time. From the base of his cock to the glans, a path of small needles ran through his skin. Too small to really do any sort of permanent damage, but big enough to keep him trapped in hell. Even when milking him, I’d left them in - something that drove my muscular victim absolutely insane with agony.
With a small speculum, I’d stretched his urethra until my entire index finger could fit in there. I used every last penis plug and sound I owned, from the tiny, thinnest one all the way up to biggest one with almost the girth of a cork. I pushed the iron rods all the way down his cock, jerked him off while his dick was plugged up, and even used a spiked one to torture my stud from within his penis. But nothing compared to the feeling of fucking his enormous boner with my own finger. There was nothing more satisfying than pounding my finger into his cock, and jerking him off with my other hand at the same time. Chris screeched and roared and cried for mercy, but that was a word that didn’t exist in my dictionary. Mercy was for the weak.
Right now, there was a big penis plug up there, which I’d left in while I’d gone to rest for an hour or two. I stroked his hypersensitive, pierced boner, gently touched the plug, and twisted it around a little. The hunk whined and squirmed weakly in his bonds. I could smell the fear on him, the unmistakeable dread of yet another round of torment. It was intoxicating.
I stepped behind him, and looked at my other favorite part of his body. Chris’ ass had been perfect, before. A beautiful, thick bubble butt, nice and firm, with a tight, virgin pucker. Unfortunately for him, that was no longer the case. Instead of that cute little pucker, there was now a gaping, dripping hole. Toy after toy had ruined his virgin ass, stretching his boypussy to an excruciating extent. After the toys, my dick had done even more damage. I’d fucked the pretty muscle boy for hours, pounding his prostate and filling him up with my seed. I was happy to see Chris reaching an orgasm handsfree several times, despite the needles in his tits and cock, or the massive plug up his urethra. There was nowhere for his cum to go, of course, when he was plugged up like that, but that didn’t matter. When I’d milked him, a little later, I made sure to release every last drop from his toasted bull balls.
Chris’ once so beautiful cock and ass would never be the same. That tight bubble butt was now nothing but a sloppy cunt, stretched enough to take an entire fucking arm up there. His dick’s shaft was pierced all over, and his piss slit was gaping wide. I’d mutilated his once perfect manhood, and he was gonna have to deal with that for the rest of his pathetic life.
“N-no more… p-please…” the young stud begged, when I grabbed the huge vibrator and yanked it out of his pussy in one motion. “Have m-mercy….”
I laughed, and positioned myself behind him. “Are you joking? I can’t get enough of this Californian cunt o’ yours, Chrissy. Even sloppy like this, it’s fucking divine. Must be something in that West Coast water.”
I held onto his big thighs, and started pounding his ass for the umpteenth time. Every thrust sent another shockwave of pure agony through the bound stud. I buried my rod all the way inside him, slamming my hips into his, pulled out a couple inches, and repeated the process. The sound of my balls slapping against his ass mixed with the weak, miserable sobs that rose from Chris’ throat. He was crying again. Beautiful.
“Like that, you little slut?” I growled, tugging at his painful erection as I wrecked his cunt. “Want me to breed you again? Want more of Master’s seed?”
“U-ungh… nnghh…” the bitch moaned, battling the devastating exhaustion that was creeping up on him. He was running on fumes. 18 hours in hell had left him empty and frail.
Before long, I felt my climax drawing near. I pounded my cock as far into his hole as I could, let out a victorious roar, and coated his insides with yet another batch of hot, slimy cum. Within seconds, Chris was arching his back, moaning even louder than me and staring at his cock in horror. I felt his muscles contract, his balls tighten, and watched his gorgeous body shudder with the umpteenth involuntary orgasm.
Of course, his huge dick was still plugged up. His pretty face contorted with pain and frustration as he felt the semen rising up his shaft, only to fall back down. Retrograde ejaculation, they call it. A dry orgasm. Unable to be released, his sperm travelled into his bladder instead.
If there’s anything that’s unequivocally emasculating, it’s taking away a man’s ability to release his seed. My beautiful, muscular, straight, perfect fucking Chris was my bitch, now. By controlling his semen, I was in control of his entire existence.
Luckily for him, I knew a way to rid his body of that misdirected load. Only seconds after pulling out my cock, I slammed my fist into his gaping boycunt. My own load acted as lube, and I pushed my arm further and further up his ass.
“Stop!!! P-please!!!” Chris whined, spasming like an insect. I just laughed, and continued until I had entered him all the way up to my elbow. I was wearing his sculpted body like a fucking glove.
When I found the right spot, I clenched my fist, and started pounding his bladder. I was basically landing punches inside his asshole, throwing the stud into the next circle of hell. He begged and cried like never before while I continued battering his insides.
“P-PLEASE!!!” Chris screamed, his veins popping with exertion. He couldn’t take anymore, would do anything just to make it stop, just to get away from the pain and humiliation for a second. But that would have been mercy. And I don’t do mercy.
I punched, and punched, and punched, until I felt his hips driving forward, every muscle in his body tensing and straining. With my other hand, I took the penis plug between two fingers. “Ready, boy?” I chuckled, “3… 2… 1…”
At 0, I pulled the plug from his boner. Chris gave me the most wonderful, defeated wail ever, as his dick unleashed a golden shower onto his sculpted body. Thanks to my fist, the pressure on his bladder had been too much. He pissed himself.
I stood back and enjoyed the sight. The hunk drenched himself in urine, from his adorable face to his bruised abs. Even his hair was soaked by the filthy liquid. It was the most degrading, beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Mister Perfect crying and pissing himself, with cum seeping out of his ruined bubble butt. I’d almost pat myself on the back for creating such a magnificent masterpiece.
When his bladder was empty, poor Chris finally passed out. Even unconscious, his huge dick stayed hard as a rock. The California stud had been reduced to a pathetic, filthy heap of muscles. Nothing left of that popular, perfect fitness athlete. He was nothing but a slutty little faggot, now. I smiled at the sight, and took a couple visuals. I’d be sure to post those online, later, so that all his precious followers could see for themselves what had become of the straight adonis.
Unfortunately for Chris, I was far from done with our playtime. Watching him cry and piss himself had really gotten me horned up again. I wanted more.
A quick little injection to the neck, and the hunk was pulled back to consciousness. I grinned down at him, and slapped his face to bring him back to reality.
“Wakey, wakey, pretty boy,” I whispered, “Don’t go fallin’ asleep on me, here. We’re not even close to being done. It’s time for another round!”
bandanabound on the left
Depraved Days of December
Day 7 - Accidents Happen
***Somewhat of a disclaimer; there’s a reason I use the word ‘depraved’. These stories are not for everybody. Read at your own discretion. It’s all fantasy, folks.
Today’s one is based on the comic ‘Kranke’ by Gengoroh Tagame. I recommend anyone interested in hardcore Bara to go read it.***
Jordan had been jogging for over an hour already. The big game was coming up this week, and the running back needed to be in perfect shape. Word had it coach was gonna make him team captain if he continued to perform like he had.
The jock had just come out of the woods when a sudden bright flash illuminated the night. Lights, the screeching of tires on asphalt, then total darkness.
When he woke up again, Jordan was lying on some kind of bed. The room was dark apart from a single lamp positioned above him, and the boy groaned as he awoke.
“Are you awake?” a voice asked him, and Jordan noticed an old, slender man standing beside him. He seemed to be a doctor, from the looks of his clothes, and the stud realized he was wearing a hospital gown himself.
“W-where… What - W-what happened?” he muttered. The man asked him if he remembered anything. “I-I was jogging, and… a c-car…”
The running back tried to clutch his head, but soon came to the horrid realization that he couldn’t move a muscle. “W-why…. m-my body! I-I can’t move!” the collegiate athlete panicked, and the man tried to calm him down.
“I’m afraid your spine was injured in the accident, Jordan,” he said.
“W-what? My spine? Can’t it be treated?” the jock asked, but the man shook his head.
“I’m very sorry.”
With a tear-stained face, Jordan had to come to terms with the fact that his lifelong dream of reaching the NFL was over. He tried to look around him, but the room was too dark and the light above his head too bright.
“W-where are we…” the hunk stammered, “What hospital is this? Why is it so dark in here?”
The man stayed silent. “Did you call my family yet?” Jordan continued, but the man just told him not to worry. “You might be able to recover somewhat with rehabilitation,” he said, and suddenly started to inject an IV drip into the boy’s muscled arm.
“W-what is that? What are you doing?” Jordan muttered.
The man smiled. “It’s medicine.” He loosened the little knot on the jock’s hospital gown, and revealed the enormous cock and balls without warning.
“We should take care of your urine before the medicine begins to take effect,” he said, and the man chuckled at Jordan’s embarrassment. “No need to be ashamed, Jordan. After all, you won’t be able to go to the bathroom on your own, anymore.”
He showed a large, weirdly shaped tube. “You’re gonna have to get used to this, as well.”
Jordan frowned, and eyed the ominous device with suspicion. “W-what the hell is that?!”
“A catheter,” the man said, and he started to apply some kind of liquid at the end of the thing. “B-but… can’t I use a bottle?” Jordan tried, “Besides, isn’t that a little too bi—“
Without hesitation, the man mercilessly rammed the tube into the running back’s dick, not showing any kind of gentleness or care. Jordan yelped in pain, the catheter far too large for his penis’ entrance. “F-fuck!” he yelled, “Ah! It hurts, it hurts!! Doctor!!”
“Calm down,” the man said, still grinning widely, “You’ll soon adapt to it. By widening your urethra, the catheter will slip in and out easily enough.”
“W-what? Widening-“ Jordan started, but was interrupted by another wave of pain as the man forced the tube further into his dick. He pressed some kind of button, and the jock was in more discomfort than he’d ever known. The beefcake was sweating and trembling furiously while the man explained he’d just inflated a balloon inside his bladder.
“Now it can’t be pulled out,” he said. “Just relax, Jordan. Let go of your bladder.”
Pretty soon, the bag at the end of the tube was completely filled.
“That’s full,” the man said. Jordan expected the torturous device to be removed now, but the doctor didn’t seem to keen on doing so. “Actually, I’ll show you something interesting,” he said, and the poor jock was brought into another world of pain and discomfort as the man lifted up the bag.
“If I raise the bag like this, the urine will actually flow back into your bladder,” the man said, “And if I lower it down like that, the urine will go back into the bag.” Jordan groaned and yelped loudly as the man continued to lift it up and down. He was in complete hell, but the doctor knew no mercy. “There, up and down… in and out…”
“S.. stop… s-stop it!!” the running back finally yelled. “Fuck you! What the fuck is your problem?! What kind of doctor does that?!”
The man stopped, but suddenly seemed to grin even wider. He stared at the jock with amusement. Jordan felt the blood disappear from his face as he realized there was something way off about the man. There was something off about the whole situation. “You… you are a doctor, right?” he muttered.
The man didn’t respond, just kept grinning at the distressed athlete. “Hey!” Jordan continued, “Are we even in the hospital?! Did you really call my family?!” Still no response. “Just who the fuck are you?!” the running back shouted.
The man just chuckled, and checked his watch. “Should be about time for the medicine to take effect,” he said. Jordan’s pretty eyes widened in fear as he looked at the drip, still attached to his arm. “Wh.. what is this… what the fuck did you inject me with?!” Right at that moment, the jock felt his temperature skyrocket, and he yelled at the top of his lungs as his muscular body started to twitch. His fat cock was quickly growing into a boner, the catheter becoming a new source of unimaginable torment.
The man laughed aloud at the sight, and finally removed Jordan’s hospital gown.
“What do you think?” the man asked, loving the sight of the young stud’s sculpted, naked body. “Doesn’t that feel nice?”
Jordan was in too much pain to answer, his entire body soaked with sweat and twitching uncontrollably. He watched in horror as he saw his enormous boner with the tube stuck in it.
“Now, let’s get started with cleaning your insides,” the man said. He lifted the hunk’s thick legs into stirrups, and spread the boy’s bubble butt.
“N-no… stop… stop…” the tortured student muttered, unable to do anything as the man started to insert another tube into his ass. Tears, snot and spit were already running down his handsome face as he felt some kind of liquid being pumped into his behind, quickly feeling his insides starting to burn in response.
“I’m giving you a high pressure enema,” the man said, “However, this isn’t your usual enema; I’m using acetic acid, so it will be fairly painful.”
“Urgh… ah… ugh…” Jordan could only groan in response. The man laughed again.
“I’ll plug up your hole to make sure everything stays in,” he chuckled, and removed the tube to insert a dildo-like object. The running back groaned loudly as his virgin ass was abused. The man patted his muscular legs a couple of times, and started to pump something at the end of the dildo. “This balloon ensures the plug can’t be removed,” he said. “Does that hurt, boy?”
“Ugh… ugh…” the young adonis groaned. The man grabbed his artificial boner and started to work his cock with no remorse. Jordan was going insane in the torture. “Still, you’re hard as a rock… That concentrated viagra really works wonders.”
He grabbed something out of view for the poor boy, and Jordan was thrown into the next circle of hell as the man stuck a short needle at the rim of his cock’s head. The running back yelled as loudly as he could, unable to do anything as the man proceeded to add another, and another, until six needles were stuck in the most sensitive part of the stud’s body. He was shivering with excruciating pain, his gorgeous body covered in sweat and tears and spit. The man laughed at his misery, and played with his nipples for a while.
“See?” he said. “You’re still hard! You’re leaking precum all over the place!”
After admiring the tormented jock for a while, the man also lifted Jordan’s big arms into bonds and grabbed another drip. “Time for the finishing touches,” he chuckled.
“Fi.. finishing t-touches?” the running back managed to utter, before the man stuck two tubes in his nose and let some kind of liquid drip down his throat.
“Ah.. gah.. w-whagth.. whag ith thith?” Jordan stammered. The man stood at the side, and contently watched the beautiful beefcake completely trapped.
“This will destroy your mind,” he explained with a big grin. “Your braincells will die, making you lose both memory and reason. You’ll be transformed into a living puppet, capable only of thinking of sex.”
He added some kind of spider gag that forced Jordan’s mouth open. “This will make sure you stay alive,” the man said. The running back could only make a pathetic groaning sound while the man taped the tubes in his nose to his cheeks.
“I do have something to apologize for, Jordan,” the man chuckled. “The car that hit you… well, I was the driver of that car. I’ve been watching you play football and run around campus for a while, and I finally decided it was time. Time you became mine.”
Jordan gave another weak sound while the man continued. “Your spine wasn’t injured in the accident, either. In fact, there were only some minor scratches and a sprain. But I took the liberty of tampering with that gorgeous body of yours through surgery.”
“The medicine will be administered slowly over the next ten hours,” he grinned.
“Since it must be boring for you to just wait for your own destruction, I’ll pass some electricity into your anal plug, to stimulate your prostate. Alternating between a dry orgasm and ejaculation, you will be cumming continuously for ten hours straight, non-stop. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
Jordan was too shocked to give a coherent response. The man simply laughed, and walked away into the darkness. “See you in ten hours, Jordan,” he said, before shutting the door.
Less than a second later, Jordan arched backwards as a loud moan escaped his mouth. Strange sensations he had never experienced before overtook his ripped body as the anal plug practically electrocuted his prostate. He could only moan and shudder as his pierced cock started to throb involuntarily, excruciating waves of pleasure washing over him.
“Aaaaagghh!! Ooooohhh!!” the jock exclaimed, his whole body spasming violently as his dick started to shoot a load, regardless of the catheter that was still inside it.
“I… I-I can’t… I can’t stop cumming,” the poor stud realized, twitching and struggling feebly as his cock continued to spray cum all over himself, “I… oohhh… f-fuck… I-I’m cumming again…. I c-can’t stop… a-again!!! Aaaahhh!! Oohhh!!”
The pleasure of the orgasm was burning through his every vein, painfully eating through every last inch of his thick body. Before long, Jordan’s abs, pecs, and even his face were covered in his own semen. While the poisonous liquid continued to drip into his system, the college athlete was kept in a torturous state of an inescapable, incessant orgasm. After seven or eight loads, his fat balls were empty and wouldn’t produce any more cum for a while.
“Aaaahh!!! Uwaahhh!!! F-FUCKK!!! AAAHHH!!!”
Jordan was in hell; crying, screaming, moaning and shuddering in his bindings with no way to escape. He started to feel his brain functions slowly being burned away, making it harder for him to think with every hour that passed.
The promising young adonis had been snatched away from his once so perfect life, and thrown into the darkest pits of the underworld by this psychotic, sadistic man. He had been a student, a collegiate athlete in the prime of his life, a football celebrity in the making, adored by family, friends and strangers alike; Jordan had been at the top of the hierarchy once. Now he had been yanked down, cut away from his golden future and trapped in anguish for eternity.
His life had been ruined.
“H-help… p-please… somebody h-help…”
3 MONTHS LATER
“Good morning, Jordan! How was your night?” the man said, grinning malevolently at his muscular captive. The former running back was on all fours, kept in place by numerous chains that had been attached to his ankles and the collar around his neck. He had been put into his old football uniform, which the man had managed to get a hold of somehow, just to spite the poor college athlete even more. His fat cock was attached to a milker, and ominous tubes were going in to his mouth and ass.
Jordan groaned weakly when he heard the man come in, and he threw his torturer a piteous look. He was covered with sweat, shaking with exhaustion and smelling like a college football locker room. The man chuckled at the sight, and kneeled next to his bitch to stroke his muscled arms.
“You smell terrible, boy,” the man said. “You big jocks, always so sweaty and stinky. I should give you another wash, soon.”
Without any gentleness or care, he pulled the tube that kept him alive and healthy from Jordan’s mouth, and he removed the helmet - on which had been written ‘Jock Slut’ and ‘Fucktoy’, among other degrading things. The stud hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in ages, and it took all his might to produce the few husky sounds he could manage.
“P-plea…se… st..op..” Jordan muttered. The psychopathic man laughed at his suffering abductee, and he ruffled through his pet’s hair for a bit. After months of painstaking rehabilitation, Jordan could still barely move a muscle, and he was only able to crawl like a dog for a couple of feet with the greatest effort. Even without the chains and locks keeping him in place, the hunk really had no way of escaping his living hell.
“Tired, are you? Well, let’s see how much milk you produced overnight. If you did well, I might let you have a little break,” the man said. He removed the lid on the milking machine, and revealed the tank that held Jordan’s drained sperm. It was almost full to the brim; almost a liter of potent semen had been milked from the former football hero. Of course, the man had injected him with all sorts of chemicals and enhancers that ensured his fat balls would produce maximum amounts of juice all night long. His sack had even almost doubled in size.
The man looked at the tank with content, and congratulated the tormented stud.
“Very good job, Jordan!” he said, “That is a very nice batch. They are going to be very pleased, down at the black market. The lab might want some too, actually.”
He made the poor boy groan as he removed the milking machine and the tube in his fat ass. He let his hands run over Jordan’s glistening muscles, lovingly caressing the beautiful young athlete like his favorite trophy. Excruciating electrotherapy had ensured the boy’s muscled physique wouldn’t go to waste. He was actually even more ripped than before, as the man’s injections and drips only provided him with the necessary nutrients and protein, getting his body fat percentage to an all-time low. Jordan, however, wasn’t particularly enjoying his physical optimization. The more ripped he became, the more his abductor seemed to want to torture him.
The man undid the chains that kept his football stud in place, and he grabbed the electric cattle prod that was hanging on the wall. Jordan made some more pathetic begging sounds as he saw the ominous tool, knowing it would only herald more torture.
“Time for your rehabilitation, Jordan!” the man chuckled. “Let’s see how far you can get, today.” Without remorse, the man activated the thing and prodded the jock in his fat balls, sending a painful current through the poor boy. Jordan yelped loudly in pain, using all his might to try and move his disabled muscles. It took all the effort in the world to move only a few inches, crawling on all fours like an incapacitated animal.
This ‘rehabilitation’ occurred almost every day. After three months, Jordan could crawl maybe four or five feet with every last bit of his energy. The prodding therapy wasn’t particularly efficient, and served more as another outlet for the man’s sadism than it was beneficial to the slave’s health. After almost an hour of the excruciating rehabilitation, the gorgeous jock was led back to his chains, crying his eyes out with his balls on fire.
“Plea…se… k-kill…. me…” the incapacitated stud groaned, rivers of tears running down his handsome face. The man laughed, a chilling, icy sound that would haunt Jordan for eternity.
“What silly things you’re saying, Jordan!” he grinned, “Why would I want to kill you when I’m having so much fun with you? You’re my favorite toy!”
“Nnghh… p-plea…se…”
“Hmm, maybe I shouldn’t have left that last portion of your brain intact after all. But then again, I don’t like my pets completely brainless. I prefer when they are still conscious enough to suffer and long for freedom, but too disabled to actually do anything. Just like you are, boy.”
“P-pl… ease… k-kill…” Jordan continued, while the man just laughed and slapped his sweaty muscles.
The man then proceeded to lick his gorgeous face for a while, savoring the taste of the sweaty, captive jock. Jordan had no means of objecting as the man’s tongue covered his pretty face in saliva, lapping every inch of his salty skin. Finally it moved to his mouth, and the sadist made out with his crying disabled beauty for a while.
There was nothing Jordan could do. He was too dumbed down to think of a way to escape, and even if he did have the necessary intelligence, his physical disability kept him from going anywhere. The jock was imprisoned in his own body.
Even if he would miraculously escape the psychopath’s hands, there was nothing left for him. His brain had been damaged past the point of no return, and his disability ensured he would never ever be able to play football again. The man had forever ruined his life.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” the psychopath said, reaching for some kind of remote. He pushed a button, and the large flat-screen on the wall turned on. “Just in time for the game, boy! Let’s see how that team of yours does today.”
As with every game that featured the poor captive’s college, the man made him watch every second of it. Jordan’s brain might have lost the ability for intricate thoughts, but he was still painfully aware of his situation. He still remembered enough of his old life to long for it with indescribable aching. Seeing his friends play, seeing them laugh and cheer and run around like normal human beings, seeing a life that had once been his, was worse than any other torture the man could inflict upon the jock. He had been so unbelievably close to achieving his lifelong dream of playing in the NFL once. Now, those dreams were far out of reach, having been replaced by a life of nothing but pain and misery.
During the games, Jordan always cried the hardest.
“See, Jordan? They won again!” the man chuckled, when the game finally ended. He turned off the tv, and took his pet’s face in his hands. “Seems like they really don’t need you, huh? You were probably just a burden to them, anyway. Everyone’s much better off with you here.”
“N-n…o…. l-ly…ing…” the stud sobbed. In response, the man struck him hard in the face, making him yelp in pain.
“Don’t call your owner a liar, boy,” he said. A big, evil grin was stuck on his face. He was having so much fun with his captive boytoy, and that fun wasn’t gonna end anytime soon.
“Now I’m gonna have to punish you again…”
Depraved Days of December
Day 3 - Jocknapped
Mike woke up groaning, his head throbbing with pain. It took the buff stud a while before he could think straight, and a wave of confusion hit him when he finally realized where he was. He was definitely not in his bed, at home.
The muscular boy was in a dark room, his wrists tied to the ceiling, his ankles chained to pins in the ground. He was completely locked in place.
“”W-what… W-what the f-fuck?” he muttered, trying to free himself from the ominous bondage. “Yo, w-what the fuck is going on? What the fuck?!?”
The hunk started to shout louder, panicking more and more as he rattled with the chains, but he couldn’t break free.
Before Mike could shout and scream at the top of his lungs, a door opened somewhere in the darkness. A single lightbulb turned on.
In walked two skinny guys, both grinning widely. “Hello, Mike,” one of them said.
“Y-you… f-fucking fags… g-get me the fuck outta here,” the bound jock spat, recognizing the two from school. He’d caught them checking him out in the lockerrooms more than once.
“D-don’t get fucking near me,” Mike growled, furious and panicked at the same time. “I’m gonna break every bone in your fucking body once I get outta this, y’hear me? I’m gonna kill you!”
The two just laughed, and continued to approach their victim. They loved to see the normally so arrogant jock tied up, helpless and freaking out.
“Do you know how easy it was to get you like this?” one of them mocked, “We spiked your water, dragged you into a car, and voila. You musclehead never even saw it coming.”
Mike, by now, was wildly bucking and struggling in his bondage. He pulled at the chains with every bit of his strength, his broad chest heaving up and down while his captors came closer and closer, but it was to no avail.
“D-don’t- f-fuckin’- TOUCH ME, F-FAGS!!” he shouted, when one of the boys put his hand on the stud’s big pecs, and the two of them laughed again.
“Great tits you have there, Mikey. Real firm and juicy,” the guy said, squeezing and feeling the jock’s chest through his tight shirt; Mike went insane with fury and terror.
While he continued to rage and curse his captors, the boys started to feel up the hunk’s ripped torso through the tight shirt. They grabbed his muscle tits, rubbed his eight pack and squeezed his biceps.
“Let’s see what you got, big boy,” one of the boys said, grinning maliciously as he revealed a pair of scissors. Mike, panting from the constant struggling and panicking, could only watch in horror as his captors cut away his shirt and shorts.
“Fuck, Mikey. You really are a muscular bitch.” The boys stood in awe at the sight of the perfectly developed body. Their victim, heated in his fury and terror, was panting and sweating profusely, his torso glistening in the dim lighting of the room.
“I’m gonna rip your throat out,” Mike growled, his beefy chest heaving up and down while one of the gays started to play with his now vulnerable nipples. The two guys just laughed.
One of the predators kept massaging the quarterback’s sensitive spots, and the other kneeled down and started to rub the boy’s big, strong legs that stood like trunks under the equally appealing torso.
“Look, I think he’s starting to like it,” one of them chuckled, mocking the captive stud as Mike’s bulge slowly grew. No matter how furious and terrified he might be, the boys’ sensual actions managed to arouse him. The hunk’s head grew even redder with humiliation.
“Getting horny already, Mikey? I’m afraid you’ll have to wait - we’ve got a lot in more in store for you.”
Mike started to writhe and shout again as he felt the boy’s hands gliding toward his boxers. He yelled as loudly as he could, bucking in his bondage like never before as his captor grabbed the semi-boner he was rocking.
“F-FUCKING LEAVE ME ALONE!!!”
The boys didn’t leave him alone, of course. They continually rubbed Mike’s nipples and crotch, loving their victim’s screams and curses that were becoming more and more frantic, until the beefy stud was panting like a dog in his chains, sweaty with an enormous pole in his boxers.
“W-what are y-you…” the captive muttered, his eyes widening in fear as the gay started to turn with the scissors to his boxers. “N-no! N-NO!! D-DON’T F-FUCKING T-TAKE THOSE OFF!!!”
The hunk resumed struggling with all his might as his last piece of clothing was cut away, and the juicy boner sprung up.
“Told you he was huge,” one of the captors said, his eyes twinkling deviously as he stroked the fat balls and cock.
Both of the boys looked hungrier than ever as they toyed around with Mike’s naked, gorgeous body. They grabbed his bubble butt, making him yelp at the top of his lungs, and slowly teased the jock by licking and stroking his dick.
“F-fuck,” Mike growled when one of the boys slowly took his tool’s head into his mouth. Without even realising it, the beefy stud was already slightly thrusting his hips forward, eager to be relieved with an orgasm.
The poor boy didn’t know, however, how long it would take before he was actually granted this relief. There was nothing the captors enjoyed more than to see the jock panting and begging to cum.
After having teased Mike with sucking just the tip of his cock for a while, the gays pulled back and had another good look at the sweaty, heavily-blushing musclehead. Their captive was no longer rattling in his chains; he could only pant and moan at the sexual torment.
“This will be fun, Mikey,” one of the boys said, grabbing some kind of flask containing a blue substance. He poured some on his finger, and approached the naked hunk.
“D-don’t,” the guy groaned, as the sadist started to smear the ominous substance on the head of his dick. “C-c’mon, d-don’t, don’t do this to me…”
The boy chuckled, and applied the strange viagra all over Mike’s balls, nipples and shaft.
It took maybe half a minute before the terrified jock started to struggle again, feeling his sensitive spots heat up like he’d never experienced before, and his crotch started to tingle. The two abductors watched contently as their victim’s head reddened even more, and his boner seemed so hard it must’ve hurt.
Mike was clearly aching to be relieved, but the poor beefcake couldn’t do anything about it.
“Y’know, Mikey,” one of the boys said, slowly tracing his finger down the hunk’s sweaty torso, “These…” he touched the jock’s nipples, which resulted in soft whimpers from the panting captive, “… are actually connected with this…”
He touched the enormous, leaking boner, and Mike groaned again. The two boys were revelling in his agony.
“Which is why you must be feeling so lovely right now,” the captor grinned. Mike was trembling from head to toe, his young, sculpted body burning and exploding with sensations he had never felt before. The viagra was clouding his every judgement; all the stud could think about was how desperately he needed to cum.
He moaned loudly as one of his tormentors slowly licked along his shaft. The two boys laughed at his every pathetic whimper and groan.
“S-stop…” Mike growled, struggling weakly in his chains when the guy grabbed his tool, and used his thumb on the red head of the enormous dick to torture the captured jock to the max.
“P-please… l-let me go…”
“Can’t do that, Mikey,” one of his captors taunted, “We’re having way too much fun with you. You’re gonna stay here with us for a long time.”
The stud groaned and whimpered in frustration, unable to anything as one of the guys approached him with lube and started to rub his entrance. He pushed a finger inside, and the jock flexed his sweaty muscles in discomfort as he had never had anything up there before.
“Damn, he’s tight,” the captor said, and Mike growled again as he was forced to take a second finger, then a third. The fags were stretching his ass, and he could only imagine in horror what was gonna happen next.
“Now, Mikey, there’s two options,” one of them said, getting out some ominously big toys, “These beads, or this dildo. Any preference?”
“N-no, no, no, no,” the captive quarterback muttered, clearly on the verge of tears, “S-shit, no, no, please, d-don’t do this to me…”
The boys laughed, and threw each other an amused look. “No preference, then? Great. We’ll do both!”
Mike struggled and groaned like never before as his captors started to insert the terrifyingly large beads into his behind.
The boys took their time, loving the jock’s agony as they tortured him. The sight of his muscular, godly body all sweaty and chained up like that drove them mad with lust, but they remained patient.
Finally, the entire string of beads had disappeared into Mike’s thick ass, and the quarterback started to cry as the gays toyed around with his hypersensitive nipples.
“Aw, Mikey, what’s wrong?”
“P-please,” the hunk sobbed, shaking his head, “T-take… out… h-hurts…”
The boys laughed, and slapped his ripped body until their hands had left red prints all over the muscular canvas.
“The first time always hurts a little. Wait until we put the dildo up there too, that’s when the real fun begins!”
Despite the stud’s desperate sobbing and pleading, the sadists proceeded to stuff the enormous thing up his barely stretched hole. They left the beads in too, inserting the fake dick alongside them, making sure their victim went completely insane from the torment.
Mike’s virgin ass was suddenly forced to take in a monstrous set of toys, and he felt like he was gonna be ripped apart.
When the dildo was finally completely inside him, the jock was trembling furiously, his head burning red and covered in tears. Mike’s mouth was hanging open, letting out a constant moan as his prostate took over all his senses.
“See, Mikey, I told you it’d be fun!” one of his captors chuckled, “Now, we’re gonna have dinner and meet some friends; but don’t worry, you get to stay here and enjoy yourself.”
The quarterback was too brain-fucked to give the boy a comprehensible response. The gays laughed at their horny jock, kissed him and jerked his massive boner a few times, and then left the hunk alone.
For almost 4 hours, Mike waited like that, drooling and moaning like an animal as the dildo vibrated in his ass. His dick was leaking more and more precum, and his abundant muscles were sore from all his struggling - but there was nothing the stud could do until his captors returned.
When they finally did, the two of them had turned into five. Mike recognised all of them from school, but was too exhausted to give a proper response as the boys grabbed and slapped his glistening muscles.
“How you holding up, Mikey?” one of them asked, while another held up a phone to record the scene. “Ready to cum yet?”
Mike weakly nodded in his chains, moaning and wishing for nothing but relief. The viagra and toys had him heated up like never before.
The sadists laughed, and one of them grabbed the quarterback’s chin as he brought his own face closer. “One wrong move and I’ll castrate you, big boy,” the captor whispered, and he brought his lips upon his victim’s.
The jock let the hostile tongue invade his mouth, submissively kissing back. The other boys cheered at the sight of them making out, and made sure to capture every moment of their dream come true.
Mike, terrified by the fag’s threat, started to feel entirely new sensations at the sudden change in treatment. The captor was giving him sensuality after hours and hours of brutal punishment, and it made the quarterback’s leaking cock twitch.
“Like that, huh?” the boy whispered, pulling back for a second and stroking Mike’s red face. He forced the jock to look him in the eyes, loving the sight of his wet puppy eyes, and started to kiss his neck while the other captors’ hands explored the rest of the athlete’s perfect physique.
“P-please,” Mike muttered back, “I-I’ll leave y-you guys alone from now on. I-I swear. P-please, just let me go…”
The gay just grinned, and gently kissed his collarbone. “Stop trying to resist, Mike. Forget about the world. Just focus on how good we’re making you feel.”
The captive threw his head back in pleasure when the boy took hold of his dick. While kissing his neck and face, the guy slowly jerked him off, making the jock’s toes curl up in ecstasy.
Mike felt another boy’s mouth starting to work his thighs and fat balls, and someone else was slowly twisting the dildo inside of him. His entire body was exploding with pleasure, countless tongues and hands worshipping his ripped body. The sensations were overwhelming, and the straight stud arched backwards in his bondage as he finally felt his orgasm welling up.
“Tell me what you want, Mikey,” the kissing boy whispered. He stopped jerking, just in time to deny his slave an orgasm, and teased the aching boner by rubbing his thumb over its head.
“N-no, no… I w-wanna cum…” the quarterback panted, thrusting his hips forward in an attempt to relieve himself. The captors laughed at their horny football whore.
“Tell me you belong to us. Say you’re our muscle bitch. Then I’ll let you shoot.”
The boy grabbed his hair and pulled him closer. Mike weakly shook his head, nestling his face in his captor’s neck while pleading for mercy. “P-please, n-no, no, I-I can’t, I can’t… f-fuck, just let me c-cum…”
His head was pulled back up again, and the dominant eyes stared right at him. “Say the words, big boy,” the gay hissed, grabbing his thick neck and making the jock cower under his sudden aggression.
The constant switching between sensuality and hostility was driving him insane, and Mike begged the boy to stop over and over again. Finally, with tears running down his handsome face, the quarterback broke.
When he gave in, the captor pulled back for a second and let the camera focus on Mike’s face. “I-I belong to you,” the stud muttered, completely defeated, “I am your… y-your muscle bitch. I belong to you.”
The gays laughed and cheered at the broken hunk, and the one who had been kissing him stroked his face in contentment.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? You’re a good boy,” he taunted. “Now, your reward.”
Without warning, the guy grabbed his throat and dick, and made Mike gasp for air as he pumped the boner with all his might.
Suddenly all hands and mouths were over him again, and the jock flexed his abundant muscles as he was finally brought over the edge.
Every inch of the stud exploded with ecstasy. Endless gobs of semen spurted into the air as Mike was in heaven for a brief moment, and the sight of their hot victim shooting his man juice sent some of the captors over the edge as well.
The painfully intense orgasm slammed into the quarterback like a truck, the lack of oxygen beginning to take its toll, and he was on the verge of passing out when the guy finally released his throat.
The musclehead collapsed in his chains coughing and gasping for air, and he barely registered the main captor taking out his own boner and bringing it closer.
Mike had no energy left to protest as the boy slapped the dick against his face, teabagging him like a bitch, and eventually opening his mouth with his fingers to force the cock inside.
The boys took turns fucking the quarterback’s handsome face for a while, each filling his stomach and coating his lips with their jizz. Mike remained half-conscious as the sadists toyed around with him for another hour.
When they released him from his chains in the end, the poor stud was too weak to struggle as the main captor flipped him on his back, and lifted his thick legs up.
“I’d kinda wished you’d be more present when I popped your cherry, Mikey,” he taunted. The jock only moaned weakly when the toys were removed from his ass.
“But I can’t let this opportunity pass by me. Oh well. You’ll have the videos to remember it properly.”
While the other captors coated Mike’s face and torso with their cum, the boy pressed into the quarterback and made the hunk growl for the rest of the night.
Mike’s unconscious body was dropped on the front porch of his house, a little before dawn. Naked, raped, and covered in jizz, the young stud was lucky enough to awake before anyone else in the house did, and he quickly snuck into his bed where he cried himself to sleep.
Unfortunately for the quarterback, though, not everyone in his street had been asleep when the gays had dumped him on the porch. One man in particular had been lucky enough to witness the scene. While Mike fell asleep, the old neighbor was still happily going through the pictures and videos he’d managed to take.
I need new friends honestly.
The fact that Head and Shoulders doesn’t have a body wash named Knees and Toes disappoints me almost as much as I disappoint my parents
I need new friends honestly.
Today I was rehearsing with the guitarist from the show I’m doing and I was coughing up a lung bc I’m sick and I was just kidding but I told him he needed to bring me a lemon for me to slice up and put in a cup of tea and so I show up to the show tonight to get ready and he sets down a big ass lemon on my dressing room table and then brings out like 5 boxes of Halloween Oreos and for those of you who pay attention to my posts you know what a big fucking deal that is and so long story short I now have a lemon and more Oreos than I know what to do with
update: tonight he brought me 2 lemons and a bag of cough drops. i’m running out of room in my fruit drawer in the fridge because i have so many damn lemons.
LIFE IS GIVING U LEMONS, MAKE SO LEMONADE !!!!!
okay but it wasn’t life it was a guy named howard
Update: tonight there were 3 lemons
Update: 4 lemons
Another update: I have 10 lemons and a date for Friday night
update: lemon boy carved pumpkins to ask me to be his lemon girl so lemon boy is now lemon boyfriend
update: lemon boyfriend and lemon girlfriend are very happy
update: lemon boyfriend and lemon girlfriend took a trip to the mountains this summer and decided that once they’ve graduated & are successfully pretending to be grown ups they will become lemon husband and lemon wife
Well this is just the cutest fucking thing.
Crying
This is adorable
Relationship Issues 💗
Stop calling me out like this
Everything down to the crack in his voice is too real
For The Masses:
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http://en.bookfi.org/
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http://www.manybooks.net
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http://oll.libertyfund.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=380
http://www.alleng.ru/
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http://ishare.iask.sina.com.cn/
http://2020ok.com/
http://www.freebookspot.es/Default.aspx
http://www.freeetextbooks.com/
http://onebigtorrent.org/
http://www.downeu.me/ebook/
http://forums.mvgroup.org
http://theaudiobookbay.com/
More Here
no one coulda reblogged this a month ago when i spent 500
momentsbymarcus
Look at KB coming through
Every time you see this, reblog it. There is always someone in college that will see this.
Remind me to find this later
I hit reblog so fast there was a tsunami in the Pacific.
Lmao.