Tuesday, October 03, 2017

Fucked pup

Waking, slowly, spooned in my Man’s arms - His breath warm against my neck - drawn awake by the tingling burn in my nipples, teased between His fingers. I could come to regret confessing to my Master that I wished my little nubs where as meaty and strongly wired as His own...

He growls low into my ear as His fingers stroke and pinch: “Good morning, pup - how are these doing after their abuse yesterday? Starting to ‘connect’...?”.  He trails one hand down my belly and circles my semi-hard cock in His fist - I whimper and push my butt back into the well of His groin in answer.  “Ah, getting there, I see” He laughs.

He pulls me firmly back against His furred chest, pulls my head back and wraps His arm across my neck; I feel the bunch of His biceps and the swell and rough scratch of His thickly curled pecks, and force myself to relax into the hot restraint of His masculine strength. Who needs rope or straps when your Man is so strong He can render you helpless with the weight and reach of just His own body...? What restraint could ever feel quite as good as the heat and power of His flesh consuming mine?

Held, helpless, I surrender to the stroke of His hand - feel submission spiral down into my core and burn in my cock, making it strain in His strong fist. I feel my hole clench and pulse - forcing thick pre-cum to ooze and slick my head inside His slow pumping grip. His leg wraps around mine and His arm around my throat tightens - arching my back and pulling my body tawt; I feel my back crack and my still sore nipples burn as my chest pulls open: stretched on the rack of His body. My cock only strains harder as I grunt and gasp, breathless and struggling in blissful surrender - and yet I know that I cannot cum, not like this, not when something still is missing...

He listens to my struggled breathing, forced past past His arm clamped over my throat -  takes pity on my plight and releases my neck - only to take hold of my nipples once more. I use the momentary freedom to gasp a plea: “Please Sir - I can’t cum: it feels wrong without You inside me...!”

He growls and thrusts His hips against me in answer. “My dog needs fucking, eh?” 

My cock spits and my body shudders as I breathe: “Please Sir, yes Sir - please: fuck Your dog and make him Yours!”

“GOOD BOY!”

I am suddenly cold, as He pulls His body away from me, steps from the bed to leave me, small and shivering amongst the rumpled sheets.

“Up on all fours, boy - show your Man your surrender...”

Obedient, I roll onto my belly, slowly push up my hips and sink my head to the mattress: concentrate on relaxing and opening my exposed hole -  offering my whole body to Him: my true and complete submission to His ownership and alpha masculinity. 

He leaves me like that: exposed, waiting, hungry and desperate. Steps from the room to prepare himself - and emphasise that we move at HIS pace now, not mine. 

I wait, hungry but patient: let this waiting build and focus my need for Him - and my need to OBEY Him.

Head pressed into the sheets, blind, I hear Him come back to the room - feel the bed dip as He climbs back on. Hot hands in slick rubber press cold, wet lube into my open hole - the cold gives way to a momentary stinging burn, and I know that He is using lidocaine-laced ‘Fist’ to ensure my hole stays fully open and relaxed for Him. Fingers stroke and probe, give way to knuckles, then I gasp and strain as He pushes all four fingers into me, down to His thumb. “Gonna have to change your name to ‘kitkat’ ” He chuckles...

He kneels up behind me; I feel His hands take hold of my hips - and then the hot press of His tight sheathed head against my outer ring. I push my hips upward, breathe deep and open myself: heart and hole. Slowly, achingly, He pushes down into me - taking infinite, slow pleasure in the intimacy of feeling my muscles relax and my body ease open around Him. 

He is long, thick, unbelievably hard - and my small body struggles to take the totality of Him as He presses painfully deep in my belly. But I breathe slow, relax and open - and shudder with pleasure when I feel the hot, hard press of His belly fully against my cheeks. 

Both of us know: THIS is surrender - THIS is what it means for me to say “I am Yours, Sir!”

He releases my hips, reaches forward to grab a handful of hair and pull my head up from its submissive press into the sheets. “All fours, dog!” He growls - and I obey with an unconscious bark: pressing myself up onto a fully canine hands and knees, squaring my shoulders with my chest pressed high, my belly curved down and my back up - my legs pushed wide to accommodate Him between them, and forcing my stretched hole even wider.

His growled “GOOD BOY!” only makes me bark louder, and unconsciously try to wag my ‘tail’ - but HE is my tail now, and my attempt only clenches and ripples my inner muscles around Him - making Him growl and thrust even harder. For an eternity, we are lost in shared animal lust: hunger driving hunger, thrusting and panting, growling and howling like rutting dogs.

He lets go of my hair - leans over my back and wraps a strong arm under and around my chest: strong fingers find and grab hold of my already burning nipples, twist and pinch and pull - sending electric shocks through my body and down into my groin. His other hand reaches down between my legs to wrap around my swinging balls: twists and pulls in unison, and adds a rich dull ache to the symphony of pain that He is playing upon my body, as it writhes and bucks beneath Him. I am oblivious to everything but Him and this sweet agony of hunger He controls with such Mastery and ease. All identity and intelligence surrendered to the simple truth of my canine obedience and devotion - the total reality that I am HIS and HIS alone: in this moment, physically, and for all time.

And then, HIS hand releases my balls, and wraps, firm, around my dripping dog-cock. Deep inside, I feel the hard kick and swell of Him - hold my breath and wait for the bone-deep thrust that lets me know He is coming close to sating His pleasure within my open body - so that the natural order of things can be complete and I will be allowed to cum, only after He has had His fill of my surrender. His fist tightens around me, painfully tight around the slick swollen head of my canine-cock - His teeth find the back of my neck, my ear, clamp and bite as His body bucks and forces His powerful seed deep into my straining core. Finally given permission, my body arches and my hole clenches tight as His firm grip squeezes my own animal-cum from my sub-human cock - and I howl my love and surrender to the stars...



Panting, sweat-bathed, He pulls us both back down into the bed. Bodies slick and bonded together by our shared hunger, bound still by His cock deep within me, He wraps me in His powerful arms and circles me in His protecting heat. 

Cock-snuggled and spooned in His masculinity, we drift into sated sleep - Man and hound, re-bonded as one.


I am YOURS Sir, Master, Friend. Balls and bone, heart and soul.  And I couldn’t be more proud.

Sunday, October 01, 2017

“Good boy!”

Laid on my back, the sling base firm beneath me, my legs securely strapped up to the spring-loaded straps and my hands snugged deep into my wader tops, effectively bound. All of my senses throb and swirl, vortexed around the thrust and pulse of my Masters cock, deep inside me - my body and hole given fully to Him and His pleasure. My heart pounds and my body buzzes with overloaded nerves; above me, through the skylight, clouds drift in a bright blue sky - I am momentarily adrift like those clouds, lost to myself and surrendered in perfect sub-space...

My Man wraps His hand around my balls - squeezes - and brings me back into my body with beautiful pain. I raise my head to watch Him, tall and powerful between my restrained legs - the rubber one piece ripples with light as He drives deeper into me, pushing my hole to open up deeper for Him. He leans down towards me: His dark eyes burning into mine in hungry possession - and I growl my hungry submission in answer. My own body glistens in tight, thick rubber; an echo of His, only so much smaller, so less powerful than His: the rubber emphasises His masculine power - but its tight, slick, cling only further defines my true submissive state. His hands stroke across my belly, and burn upon my tightly constrained skin. My naked throbbing cock drools pre-cum as I thrust my hips down onto Him in helpless abandon. He smiles evilly, gathers the glistening droplets, and stuffs them into my gaping mouth with all four of His black gloved fingers.

He reaches up to the collar of His suit, pulls down the full length zipper to reveal His strong chest and tight swollen nipples - His golden skin and dark curls of thick hair are only further defined by the contrast against the glossy black latex. Hungrily, at His command, I reach up and draw my fingers through His thick fur, feeling the swell of His chest and then the tight balls of His nipples: rolling and pinching them in the way I have been trained. He growls and pushes His chest forward - and deep inside my hole I feel His cock swell even harder: pushing hard against my prostrate and sending me back into shuddering abandon, as my head falls back onto the pillow and the clouds spin before my eyes...

I am HIS: HIS boy, HIS rubber-encased fuck-pup, HIS hole to be used, HIS willing and surrendered toy, HIS and HIS alone.

And NOTHING could feel better or more perfectly natural.



Tuesday, August 15, 2017

#TomofFinland



Friday, Sir and I went to see the Bristol premier of the 'TOM of Finland' movie at the Watershed - in full leather, together with guys from both the Southwest Rubbermen and LeatherWest.

TOM was an artist from Finland, who escaped the homophobia and repression of the mid-C.20th by creating graphic portrayals of strong, PROUD, masculine men enjoying gay company and explicit sex - usually in hyper-masculine clothing and situations: bikers in full leather, sailors and army guys, foresters and fishermen... At a time when homosexuals were considered deviants, criminals and sissies, TOM's Men were often smiling, always happy and proud, and - above all - MEN. 

It's difficult to emphasise just how important TOM's work was to gay men like me in the early years of the burgeoning gay rights community. In a time that wanted to silence us through shame, TOM gave us an aesthetic of masculine power and PRIDE - and told us that we no less a man for wanting and loving other men. His images also fuelled an entire generation's sexual fantasies...!  

TOM's work was eventually picked up in America, where it became a huge influence on gay culture, and his aesthetic is at the heart of what became the Leather Pride movement. 'The Village people' could have stepped out of any one of his drawings, and every gay club with its muscle guy's, bikers, Leathermen, uniforms, and sports Fetish ultimately owes their existence to him.

The film was both sad and uplifting in equal measure. The sadness came from seeing (and, for those of us old enough, remembering) the danger and fear of repression - the arrests for 'indecency', the risk of imprisonment or sectioning for 'sodomy', the newspaper exposes and the revulsion and ostracism of family and friends if our 'dirty secret' ever got out - and the self-hatred and shame that it bred in us. It was also the grief of remembering all those friends whom we lost during the AIDS crisis...

The uplift came from seeing a man who refused to be cowed: who fought to keep a sense of pride in himself and his friends, and who created images to express his love and passion for life and love and sex. It came in seeing so many classic images that he created - and remembering the first time we ourselves had seen them: and our initial shock and guilt had given way to arousal and then pride...

And the best bit of the whole experience: realising just how far we have come by how fantastically the Watershed welcomed us - and even set up a group photo for us to celebrate. And then - even better: watching the film with a cinema filled with Men in Gear: there in Pride, and camaraderie, and Brotherhood - sharing our love of the man who had given us a new image of ourselves, and PROUD in who we have become.

TOM would have been proud!




If you can't make it to one if the many screenings around the country, 'TOM of Finland' can be viewed online at the BFI website.

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Pups and Handlers Project - an Academic study of #PuppyPlay

Puppy-play has been around for many years - and of late has even entered the public consciousness - but as yet, there has been very little serious academic study of either the phenomenon or the community. 

I'm glad to say, that's changing.

You might have seen some posts on the puppy social media about the Pups and Handlers Project. This is a formal academic research project aiming 'to explore and describe the experiences of individuals who engage in pup or puppy play' - and is being led by two esteemed UK anthropologists: Dr Jamie F. Lawson (University of Durham) and Prof. Darren Langdridge (Open University). At the heart of the project is an online survey, links to which have been shared via the various online puppy groups and social media. Some of those who respond are then also offered a further skype-delivered interview, to give them an opportunity to talk further about their experiences - and I've just had a very pleasant hour or more doing just that...!

Dr Jamie is very easy to talk to (he's a queer activist himself, with some knowledge of the scene already, even outside of academia), and an excellent ethnographer - letting me talk freely without interuption, whilst occasionally prompting with some interestingly engaging questions. Sadly, I think I talked his ears off - but I had warned him that I might: I may be a pup, but I'm also a Librarian and a philosophy graduate, and I can happily talk forever about identity, consciousness, zen, reality, queerness and BDSM (just ask my poor long-suffering Handler...!)  

I certainly enjoyed the exchange - and I think he found the interview useful too...

I really do think that this is a very useful study, and one that will help to clarify serious understanding of both the community and our individual experiences and drives. It will certainly explore our scene in a deeper and more meaningful way that the usual 'oh look: how odd!' coverage that we've had so far (nice though that has been). 

I look forward to being able to share further details about the project and its findings as and when these are released. Meantime, why not follow the project on twitter (@PupPlayProject ) - and help out by completing the survey: bit.ly/pupsandhandlers. (especially if you are a Handler or Owner - who are shockingly under represented!) 





Saturday, July 01, 2017

Biking in Snowdonia - Tuesday

Our last day, and time to start heading home - but not before another hearty breakfast...

Sir wanted to take our time going back, so we headed up towards Bangor and then back into the Snowdonia National Park along the old coaching route through Tregarth and Bethesda.

James (our pet name for Sir's Sat-nav) got a bit confused with way-points that we had set on our way up and so we got a wee bit lost outside Betws-y-coed - eventually finding ourselves on a wonderful B-road adventure up the side of a tiny valley and out over the top of the moors - before we finally found our way to Penllyn and Bala for a much needed ice-cream by the side of Bala Lake (enjoying both the assorted swimmers and kayaks, and enticing several other bikers to stop for a break too...!).


We managed to get a little lost again when James tried to take us off down some B-roads  - but soon re-orientated ourselves at the Cross Foxes underneath Cadair Idris, and then made our way though the more gentle mountains of Powys to Newtown.

Wilting with the heat (and the dog's rucksack), we managed to find our way to Maesmawr Hall: a lovely old Country House hotel that Sir had stayed in when touring with the Gay Bikers; there we stopped for a while to stretch our legs and have a long cooling drink. Refreshed, we then followed the baby River Severn all the way to Llanidloes before jumping to the River Wye at Llangurig and on to the reservoir outside Rhayader.




From there we were back on more familiar ground as we headed first to Leominster, joined the M50 to Tewksbury, and finally the M5 home to Prestbury... (for the pup at least - Sir still had to face another hour to Bristol on the M5!).

All told, we managed close to 600 miles in four days - and that despite some of the hottest weather the UK had seen in 40 years! We saw some amazing locations and shared some fantastic moments - and I would not have missed it for all the world.


Thank You Sir! I look forward to the next time I can share your saddle and be your very happy bike-pup and loyal companion!

Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Biking in Snowdonia - Monday

We started the day with another very hearty breakfast, then sat in the upstairs lounge to make a few notes about where we had been and what we had done. Then it was back to the bike, and out for another sunny day of touring.

Sir had planned to head south and west towards Pwllheli, but we got a bit distracted when we spotted a sign for 'Caernafon Airworld', and ended up making a detour to Caernafon airport instead. That then led us along the beautiful Llyn Peninsula - and eventually to us following a brown 'scenic route' sign in Nefyn, which in turn led us up over a moor and to a second scary sign that declared 'Danger: Steep and narrow road!'. What could we do but follow it...?

Multiple hairpin bends and switchbacks, stunning views, and a near vertical descent that had the pup gripping its Man's thighs for dear life, ended up depositing us at the amazingly beautiful and remote Nant Gwrtheyrn: an old quarry village that has been renovated as a heritage centre and Welsh language school. Unusually for us, they were having a special 'kiddies day' so the whole place was heaving with toddlers and mothers (and one rather darkly handsome dad...), but they also had a very nice caffi, so we stopped for something cool whilst we drank in the view.




Heading back to the bike, we chatted to one of the ladies from the cafe, who told us of a beautiful Inn across the bay in Porth Dinllaen - so we headed back up the switchback road and over the hills to see if we could get there for lunch. We managed to find Morfa Nefyn, and followed a steep little beach road that looked like it headed in the right direction - but we came to a dead-end by a beautiful little beach. Luckily, a sweet old lady who was our walking her dogs in a mobility scooter put us right - but not before some very friendly chatter about how lovely our bike was, and how she'd swap for her scooter if we liked...! We finally managed to make our way to a Nation Trust Carpark, were the attendant informed us that the Ty Coch Inn was only accessible by a 20 minute walk along the beach - and kindly suggested that it might be a little bit far for us to manage in 80 degree heat wearing full leathers and motox boots...! It's a shame, because the view was beautiful and the reviews amazing. Ah well, next time perhaps...


Undeterred, we headed back over the peninsula to Abersoch (with its beautiful little harbour, stunning views, and incredibly posh luxury developments that reminded me of Sandbanks in Poole), then we doubled back to pass through Pwllehli and on to Criccieth and it's romantic Castle, were, finally wilting in the heat, we stopped at the incredibly charming Blue China Tea Rooms for a much needed pot of tea, a nice bit of banter with the owner - and some very lovely treacle tart and home-baked bara brith.



Feeling a little more rejuvenated - but far too hot for much more travel - we then headed on to Porthmadog and a much shorter route home to the hotel.

We finished the day with a long cooling dip in the pool (and a very proud pup managing several lengths doing a half-arsed back-crawl and a couple of widths attempting a front crawl with a float tucked in my speedos, whilst his Man coached him and cheered him on!) and a nice simple Chinese meal at Fu's on the marina - before returning to the end of the Dock to watch one more perfect sunset - and a wonderful photo by Sir of the pup silhouetted against the fading light...




Sunday, June 25, 2017

Biking in Snowdonia - Sunday

We had had rather a late night, so we slept in until quite late and only just make it down for breakfast in time - then, stuffed with hash browns and poached eggs, we took ourselves out for a morning stroll to gauge the air and the weather for the day: heading through the walled town and over the Pont-y-Aber swing bridge and out along the foreshore Road, before curiously following a buzzing camera drone back along to the Marina, there to find a horde of bare-chested, wet-suited guys being briefed for their day of ThunderCat racing. Oh my!



Our Hotel had a lovely pool, so Sir suggested we slip into our budgie-smugglers and head for a swim. I'm told that I learnt to swim way back as a wee-child at primary school, but I'm really not very confident, and rarely go near a pool unless I'm dragged there - but Sir coaxed me into the water and then turned into the best swimming coach I could ever have hoped for! He soon had me doggy-paddling, then practicing my kicks with a float - and before I knew it I was even managing a length on my back! Exhilarated but exhausted, it was then a long soak in the whirlpool and a slow cook in the sauna (forgetting that my nice padlocked metal dog-collar would get rather hot in the process...!). Feeling rejuvenated, we then pulled on our leathers and headed out for a day of touring.

Sir decided to head north along the Menai Strait, so we made a quick stop to fill up, then headed on to Bangor, and a gentle stroll along the lovely Bangor pier in the perfect sunshine. Sir brought His spy-glass, so we had fun gazing across the straits at the beautiful houses on Anglesey - picking the ones that we would have, were we rich enough. We also spotted a few jelly-fish drifting in the tide below the pier - and were lightly teased by both an old lady out 'people-watching' with her knitting and an ice-cream seller for being somewhat 'overdressed' for the sun in our full leathers... I would happily have taken the chance to cool down with a stop at one of the many tea-rooms we passed, but Sir seemed rather reticent - unknown to me, He already had a plan....



Hopping back onto the bike Sir took us through Bangor and over the beautiful Menai Suspension Bridge (with the pup making appropriate 'OOOh!' noises for Sir), then we doubled back to follow the Beach Road underneath the bridge and past all the picnickers - then made our way along through the cool tree-tunnelled Beaumaris Road, trying to find the same lovely houses and hotels that we'd spotted from the pier.

We trundled through Beaumaris itself - avoiding the tourist coaches around the castle - ostensibly looking for somewhere to stop for tea, but Sir said He hadn't really seen anywhere 'nice' so we headed on further - until He 'unexpectedly' spotted a roadside sign and turned off down a bumpy old road, past some of the most amazing beaches with views across the strait to the mountains beyond, and finally pulled up by a ruined Priory and a strange little man taking tolls; the road only got worse - with the pup whimpering, as he knows how his Man normally hates to ride on gravel - only for the track to open out at Penmon Point with a lovely view of the Menai lighthouse and Puffin Island. It was only then that Sir 'confessed' to having planned to stop here all along - and treated His pup to a huge and very satisfying cream tea at the Pilot House Cafe, with the sun glittering on the sea whilst the Lighthouse bell tolled every few minutes - and an overly friendly pigeon tried to land on one of the other diner's hat!


Sated and cooled, we headed back through Beaumaris to make a short stop to marvel at the gothic majesty of Chateau Rhianfa - then we headed back over the Bridge and onto the A55 coast road (snaking through tunnels like the best Amalfi coast roads) to Conwy and the Victorian splendor of Llandudno.

We pootled around through the town, admiring the Victorian iron work, then climbed the hill towards the Great Orme. We had half hoped to be able to catch one of the trams but we got there just too late to make the last one - so Sir dropped into 2nd gear and we headed on up on our own - passing both the last tram and several cable-cars on our way. The view from the top was spectacular: west to Anglesey and east to Liverpool and the Formby coast (I swear I could almost see my parent's house!), so we stopped for a long cool pint of lemon-and-lime to take in the view.





We fancied taking the scenic route back, so decided to take the hairpin horror of St. Tudno's Road past the old church - finally joining with Marine Drive to take a lazy ride around the whole Orme - and spotting both the amazing Lighthouse B&B, and a stunning towered house for sale (sadly, both beyond our price range I think...). Back in the town it was one last bumble to look at hotels (and a narrowly missed collision with a land-train) before finally making our way back home to Caernafon.


We stripped and changed, then headed into town to look for a bite to eat - which proved rather difficult as everywhere seemed to close on Sundays and Mondays; lucky that we weren't actually too hungry! We finally wandered into Copa as they were closing their restaurant, were a very nice barman persuaded his cook to rustle us up a nice 4 cheese pizza and some ginger beer before the ovens cooled down too far - which we took over to the Castle walls, so we could sup and eat and watch the most perfect of sunsets over the straits.






Sir had an unexpected surprise when we had finished - and was hailed by an ex-NHSDirect colleague, who recognised His voice as we were tidying away our rubbish and called us over to chat; her husband was an ex-police biker too, so we had quite a good chat about the pleasures of riding a Honda Pan European...

We ended the day by wandering over to the Victoria Dock, and one last gaze at the sunset over the flats.

Such a perfect day!


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