Bitch Boy Thoughts

I’m always a little overwhelmed for the first few seconds after Daddy takes me.  It’s incredibly intense to be taken so forcefully by a man with such a large and demanding cock.  But it’s an intensity that I’ve become accustomed to and welcome.  Within a few strokes my held breath has given way to little boyish moans and my hips start moving of their own accord, pushing back as he pulls out, rolling as he bottoms out in my pussy, trying to increase the already amazing sensations of my Daddy buried deep in my boypussy.

“That’s my boy, my little prince, my little slut, “ Daddy rumbles from behind me as he leans back to get a good look at my pink pussy lips stretched around his greasy, veined black thickness.  He loves to see the results of his handiwork almost as much as he loves seeing my face as I writhe in ecstasy beneath him.  His hands go to my hips, to my buttocks, spreading them wide to make the most obvious target for his forceful strokes.  

“Oh, Daddy,” I moan.  I love feeling his hands on me, manipulating my body for his pleasure.  It’s a tangible expression of his dominance and desire, and leaves me feeling possessed and yet deeply satisfied that I can bring pleasure to this sexy man.  There are days when I would be hoping that Daddy shifts into even higher gear and takes me roughly, making me cry out.  But today isn’t about that.  Today is about a Daddy and his boy, a Man and his wife, making love like they only can for each other.  

Daddy lifts up my right leg towards my chest and then pulls it up to hold against his chest, all the while deep stroking my pliant pussy as it rotates around his hardness.  He holds this position for a couple of minutes, straddling my left leg and taking advantage of my wide spread buttocks to dig deep, forcing out my gasps and moans of pleasure as his engorged cockhead rakes over that joybutton in my pussy before plunging deep and popping past that second sphincter deep inside me.  It’s a place deep in my guts that very few have been, but for Daddy it’s home.  His big black cock has carved out my pussy to fit him exactly like a glove, and he takes full advantage of that now, pulling back until his mushroom head is stretching my pussy lips before plowing back in as deep as he can.

“Daddy, daddy, oh god, so good Daddy!”

(Please Note: I made a few updates…)

I’ve had several conversations with locked boiz over the past couple years where we discussed how to truly become a locked bottom bitch.

Now, you may ask, “Isn’t having your cocklette permanently riveted in a cage enough?”

The answer is “No.”

I believe that the point where you no longer focus on your cocklette as a source of pleasure, that it’s simply the thing you piss from, AND when your holes have become your only sources of sexual release - when you learn to have anal orgasms and squirt cum from your soft cocklette from receiving a man’s cock (or dildo) - then and only then have you truly become a locked bottom bitch, a true servant of real men, an acolyte of cock, a disciple of sexual energy.

I’ve been asked how to get to that state of mind, to that place where we want to be.  I no longer think of my locked cocklette as anything other than something to piss from.  I no longer get erections (though sometimes a bit of swelling) and I haven’t had a real, honest-to-goodness orgasm in 1,813 days (as of 7/15/18).  I have gotten to the point of being able to have an anal orgasm while being penetrated nearly every time. For me, the rougher the top, the more vocal we are, the greater my chances of exploding in my cage.

So here’s my theory on how to move from a cock-focused life to a hole-focused life.

1. Get that cock caged! 2. Stay locked’n’denied longer each session. Start at 2 weeks, then 3, then 4 … and just keep going.

3. Now the real trick is to shift your sexual NEED from that locked cocklette to your hole. So, they way I’ve done it is simply by fucking a dildo EVERY TIME I GET HORNY.  

Its that simple.  Back when I was a top with a free cock, when I cruised porn I’d take my hard cock in my hand and wank one out.  Or, when I mad my bottom bitch, Carlos, he would kneel under the desk with a plug in his ass and suck my cock until I told him I was ready to blow.  Then I’d put him over the desk and fuck my load into his El Salvadoran ass.

Remember when your cock was free?  I bet you stroked that sucker every time you got the slightest bit horny.

Well, now, instead of thinking about your useless cock … go jump on a dildo - the bigger, the longer, the better.  NEVER cruise porn without being ready to fuck a dildo the second you get horny. These days, I have an electroplug in my hole, cranking up the charge the longer I cruise tumblr.

You will train yourself to equate “horny” with “penetration.”  That’s the key.

4. When you watch porn stop thinking about that real man’s cock, look at that bottom bitch taking it.  Hear him moan.  Think about your hole and how wonderful and amazing it feels when it is being penetrated.  My God! Writing this now I have the urge to grab my Kevin Dean dildo and fuck it into me!

4. Once you’ve gone 6 months locked’n’denied you are ready to go permanent … invest in that stainless steel cage that fits perfectly and rivet the fucker on!

5. NEVER stop training. When you’re horny … fuck a dildo, fuck your man … fuck a stranger.  Watch porn? Fuck a dildo.  Each and every time!

The chastity cages we all so love to use tackle only one part of the “problem” of being a submissive bottom.  We have to change our physical, mental and emotional states.

Taking Ken for 30 minutes as @goodboibri ordered

We motored slowly up the Intracoastal Waterway, the day getting late, slowly puttering back to the dock, back to the house, back to reality. Soon, we’d both have to get dressed again, but for now, we lounged in our shorts, two big guys, glowing with satisfied pleasure, a light beer buzz, feeling on top of the world. But behind that, a little sadness, too.

It had been two sweet hours - despite his beefy, bull-like build, his rugged face, he had a soft spot a mile wide, especially when it came to me, and I felt privileged to be one of the few to see that part of him. To get to feel the gentleness of his touch, the sensual gaze of his eyes as I stripped out of my shorts for him in the back of the pontoon boat, the tender, heated way he kissed me. Yeah, we could go at it hard, slamming our thick, muscled-up football player bods together, grunting and growling and sweating together. But today was one of the slower, sweeter times, lovemaking I guess, one of my favorite ways to explore and experience pleasure with him.

We were supposed to be fishing, so we had more time to explore. More time for me to curl up in his arms, to forget my size and my bulk, be soft with him. Long, slow, kisses. Murmurs. Whispers. His big, rough hands stroking the big, creamy-skinned, lightly padded mounds of my pecs. Down over the strong barrel of my stomach, rounded but hard with thick muscle. Untying my board shorts, releasing my big, hard, thick young cock as he grunted into my searching mouth. Feeling the throb of his own, nearly identical cock, thick and proud and throbbing with lust against the swells of my meaty, muscled ass as I leaned back to swap spit with him slow and deep and tender.

I stood up, let my board shorts drop down the thickness of my powerful, massive thighs and calves, my cock rising up in the warm sea breeze, as I smiled at him, at the slow, lustful sweep of his gaze. The way he leaned in, his shorts tented as hell, and kissed the beef of my body. Flexing up for him some. His big, stubble-rimmed lips on the warm smoothness of my linebacker skin, kiss-tracing over the mound of my stomach, along the still-visible lines of my abs. He’d been built just like me once, a solid young powerhouse of worked-out football muscle, padded for the deeper impacts a linebacker endures. Still kept in great shape, but the beef had thickened some more, turning him into the powerfully sexy muscle bull he was now. Older, wiser, sexier, hungrier.

His lips caressing the thickness of my cock, up and down its length, wide wet tongue warmly lapping under the flared head of my big young dick, had me sinking my fingers into his thick, sort, greying hair.

“Ah, yeahhhh Dad,” I moaned, loving the singular feel of his mouth swallowing my big cock. Like he’d been doing since I was 16. Like I’d dreamed of him doing since well before that.

He looked up at me, our identical blue eyes meeting, smoldering for one another. I didn’t know what I’d be doing next year, after college was done, but I knew I had to have him close to me somehow. This was too great, too deep, too perfect to give up. Slowly, I pulled him up off my dick, tasting the salt of it on his tongue as we kissed again, then settling down on my big haunches to stroke his powerhouse thighs, returning the favor like he’d taught me so well. Coach had wondered, my senior year, how I’d gotten so skilled at sucking man cock, but much as I wanted to tell him how well my big sexy Dad had taught me, it was a secret not meant to be shared. Just between us. Which made it so much more powerful.

Seeing his big paternal cock throb like mine as he skinned down his boxer briefs and slipped between my meaty thighs made me ache and tingle all over for him, and I was beyond ready when that big, blunt, drooling tip pressed my muscled ring, then breached it. Always that twinge, that weird filling-up sensation, then that slow warm spread of good feelings, all through my groin and the pit of my stomach. The big smile on my face telling him how good he made me feel, how glad I was to be making love with him. Getting fucked by the man who’d created me. The big pontoon boat rocking gently on the waves as he rocked up inside me, clutching my beefy pecs, exploring my mouth with his tongue slowly, deeply. Fucking me deeply, thickly, paternally, until the come erupted all over the bulk of my big hard abs, and I felt him shiver and quake and throb inside me. Flooding me with his thick, rich seed.

Afterwards, it was great, curled up in each other’s arms, slowly kissing, exploring our sun-warmed, sweating muscles. Delaying the inevitable. But sooner or later, I had to slip bareass back into my board shorts, he into at least his boxer briefs, and we had to head back. At least the big boat was slow, meant for cruising, not speed, so I could linger behind him, rubbing those big, powerful, rounded shoulders, leaning in to kiss his neck, loving his little sounds of pleasure as I did. The sparkle in the big, hunky lug’s eyes as we looked at each other, and kissed again.

He sighed, and looked out at the Atlantic.

“You ever want to just push the throttle and head on out there, big guy?” he said wistfully. “Go find somewhere else to be, away from it all?

I smiled, nodded. Fuck yeah, I’d thought that. Every time him and me took the boat out to bond, to love, I thought about it.

"Long way to Bermuda in this old piece of shit,” I chuckled, squeezing his shoulders. He laughed with me, but still stared off at the endlessness of the sea. I leaned in and slowly kissed the side of his big bull neck, crouching down to slip my arms around him as best I could. He was a big guy, and it was a stretch, but one well worth making.

“Some day, Dad,” I whispered in his ear, his big paw coming up to squeeze the thickness of my forearm. “Some day, just you and me, big guy.”

He smiled at me, eyes looking a little misty, or maybe it was just the sun in them. Yeah… some day. Until then, we shared one last kiss, for now, long and slow and deep, loving, beautiful, as the boat slowly chugged its way back to reality.

Addressed to the wonderful man who’s experimenting with controlling my body and my mind. I wrote this for Him, and He has instructed me to share it here.

Chastity gives higher purpose to my cock and balls. Without it, fleeting pleasure is all my loins can offer me. But to give that to you, to do with what you will, brings a big smile to my face. Chastity can also help remind me who I am - a submissive boy who is not made for simple pleasure. Rather, I’m made to help and delight others, and in their happiness find my own. But even more than that, it reminds me that I need and crave a man I can devote myself to - a man who I can strive for, a man who’s needs I can put before my own. What I call Him doesn’t matter. What matters is that my dick is in your control, to use however you please. Sometimes you may solicit my opinion, sometimes you may explain beforehand your plans for my cocks. Other times, you might savor the surprise.

Normal boys’ dicks are given to the boy’s own whims. The steel cage on “my” dick makes me hope that it could be subject to your whims instead - indefinitely. That idea makes me feel more important, more significant, in a way. To be chosen as part of your plan is an honor. I know it seems overeager, because my normal locked state is the antithesis of desperation. However, I’d like to think making me squirm with need, even babbling for lack of composure, and making me suffer will be a challenge you look back on fondly for the rest of your life. Whatever I can do to further that joy is well worth whatever pain or ardor it requires.

Chastity benefits me personally because it reminds me of my potential. The potential learned from delaying gratification in the service of higher, broader aims. It reminds me to push myself, no matter how difficult circumstances might seem. It also, perhaps ironically, makes me feel more youthful and virile. Unlocked, guys need to be careful not to get hard in public but with a chastity cage on, one can let the mind wander like a randy teenager and no one would be the wiser! I get a kick out of that sometimes.

Chastity symbolizes my acceptance of my submissive nature. For a few years I played around with chastity, coming in and out of it when it was convenient. But now, it is part of my lifestyle and of my identity. It’s not a simple fetish, nor something I do, but a core part of who I am as a person. It fills me equally with pride and humility.