#gaybdsmtraining — Public Fediverse posts

When it was his turn again, you crouched down in front of him without hesitation to stimulate his nipples whilst he worked his arms and throat.

You continued to take turns, both of you growing increasingly turned on. By the time you'd finished the exercise, Number 128 was on the rowing machine. There, too, he had mounted a dildo on the seat, so that his buttocks gaped wider with every rowing stroke. You took the prone leg curl machine next to it; Number 759 lay down and started. Naked as he was, you could see how his well-built bottom tensed and relaxed. It was your turn, and the friction of your locked dick against the seat made you insanely hot. The gardener left, and when it was the house servant's turn again, he turned to you and, with a cheeky smile, urged you on: "Please fuck me, 786." You were a bit at a loss, but he begged you to take one of the dildos from the box and satisfy him.

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You looked at him in disbelief. What did he want from you?! Why?! "You consented as well to Mr Stavinsky moulding you into a decent, capable member of society. Do you think he wouldn’t use your cunt for that?" Gently but firmly, he pushed you forward over a table so that you had to stick your arse out towards him. "Don't worry," he said, "the brain implant will make it easy for you to relax." And he dripped some lubricant onto the dildo.  

The cool, moist plastic gave you a slightly burning sensation on your rosebud as he pressed it against it. You knew you didn't stand a chance, but you didn't want to give in either. So you clenched your buttocks as you felt the implant's signals slowly running down your spine. It only took a moment before you noticed the deep, calm feeling that signalled your body to relax. Slowly, bit by bit, the dildo slid into your arsehole.  

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He guided you to the first floor, into what turned out to be Mr Stavinsky's office. Your guardian sat there, in an armchair, dressed in a white shirt and black jeans. Number 128 stood next to him, naked as always, and you briefly stared at his little plastic cage again. Mr Ben pointed to a second armchair opposite him, and you got down in the soft leather. Number 759 remained behind your seat back.

This was not the right moment to confront Mr Stavinsky, you realized. It was quite a surreal situation, and uncomfortable. Your guardian had a calm, attentive voice when he asked you almost kindly, "So, do you have something to say to me?" Your heart was racing.

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The ride to his place was over all uneventful. You were still wearing that bloody prison suit, and you were a bit cold. But you were too happy to leave the correction center to complain.

As you drove through the wasteland, memories of Evelyn kept coming back to you. She had only visited you once during your prison sentence, and it had been anything but a pleasant experience. But now you wouldn't be able to see her for about eight years, and that was somehow sad.

"Here we are, boy 786. Get out." Mr Stavinsky's voice had gotten a slightly sharper tone. The property looked large and beautiful, and could noticed how well-maintained every detail looked while he guided you to a room in the basement. "First, get rid of this ugly dungaree. Then, I'll show you around."

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fag dicks must be locked

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It was high time to give the carpenter and his ass a break from being fucked. So you untied his bonds and helped him up. Jerome hugged his trembling, reeling boy, and you handed him a fluffy bathrobe.
He was led to the bathroom and sent for a warm shower. Meanwhile, Jerome and you made yourselves comfortable in the living room and had a cup of tea. Jerome was still quite excited, but happy and relieved that your plan had worked out so well.

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Jerome had been watching, getting hornier and hornier. Now it was his turn. He approached, took his hard, dripping cock in his hand and brought it to Perry's mouth. The toy seemed to hesitate. Had it noticed that this wasn't your penis, even though it couldn't see or hear anything?
Regardless, Perry obediently opened his mouth and let the cock slide in. He sucked and licked skilfully as before; if he was feeling uncertain, he didn't let it show.

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I know you know your place, #bottomboi, and you know you know it, too.

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Thank you, Master, for reminding me, every day, that I’m nothing without you. Thank you for keeping me as your property. I’ll always be your eager, locked-up #gayslut—ready to worship you however you demand.

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the #cagecheck verification code for today is #327

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