Dream Boys in Pain

BDSM scenes involve exerting/relinquishing power in four ways. 
1. Bondage
2. Humiliation
3. Pain
4. Sex

Some scenes offer a mixture of elements.  Some emphasize one or two.

Master Kevin and and his 24/7 slave Jared preferred scenes that emphasized pain.  The other elements of the scene were of minimal importance, and often omitted altogether.

Even when they weren't in a scene, Jared would deliberately get "cocky," disobey or talk back, inviting "punishment," seeing how much he could take.

But all of the BDSM porn they saw emphasized sex, with the pain minimal or not there at all.  One day Master Kevin and Jared got the idea that other people might enjoy seeing BDSM scenes that emphasized pain instead of sex, and Dream Boy Bondage (dreamboybondage.com) was born.

The stories are minimal: a prisoner of war is interrogated; a convicted criminal chooses a sentence of pain instead of incarceration; a guy borrows money from the wrong loan shark; two Mormon missionaries knock on the wrong door.

Whatever brought them to the dungeon, the scene varies only a little: they are stripped, whipped, punched, flogged.  They are hung from a cross.  They are bound spreadeagle for cbt, electroshock, and hot wax.  Then they are "forced" to masturbate.

There is rarely any other sex.  There is rarely any plot development or resolution to the stories.  The point is seeing the Dream Boys struggling in their bondage while the top works on them.

Master Kevin is mostly absent; we sometimes hear his voice barking orders from offstage, or see a chubby hand groping the restrained bottoms.  Jared is the top, working with few words and little emotion.  To him it's just a job, a chore that his master ordered, like mowing the lawn or washing the dishes.

Each session is 15-20 minutes long, with about six sessions per scenario.  No distillation of "best moments": what you see is what happened, in real time.

Which, frankly, becomes a little boring; who wants to watch a guy hanging from a cross for 15 minutes?  I always fast-forward to the "good parts," where something is happening.










The bottoms are rarely muscular or well-hung, but they are stunningly attractive.  They are "pretty boys," used to being desired for their face rather than their physique or their cock.

Some the Dream Boys are experienced bottoms who can take anything, but most are not into BDSM at all, and many are straight, just in it for the money.  They are feeling the whip or the violet wand for the first time: that's real shock on their faces.







Dream Boy Bondage is not for everyone, not even for every BDSM fan.  But for the beauty of the models and the intensity of the scene, it has no equals.

In Search of Muscle Cops

Here are some nude photos of police officers.

Or least, men wearing police uniforms.  I doubt that most of them actually work as police officers.

There are morals clauses in most police contracts, so posting a nude selfie could ruin your career. 

Besides, most police officers aren't particularly muscular, and I'm assuming that they have the same range in cock size as everyone else.

Well, maybe they're a little bigger, due to the self-selection process whereby small guys shy away from jobs involving locker rooms.

Hung but not muscular.

More after the break

First Day of Class Beefcake and Bulges

Plains, August 2016

I love the first day of class.  The campus has been mostly deserted all summer, but today it springs to life with thousands of new students and faculty members, dozens of new opportunities.

8:30 am.  Meeting with my new teaching assistant, a tall, buffed former football player who just began grad school.

I can't wait to start sending him on errands.

9:30 am.  Office hours.  I walk out into the hallway to go to the bathroom, and hit a huge crowd of students waiting for the large lecture hall to clear.

I get five smiles and three cruisy eye-crotch-eye looks.

11:00 am.  My first class.  112 students in the large lecture hall.  I never stand on that stage; I always make a circuit of the aisles while lecturing, to make it easier to call on random students.  Cute, nervous freshmen, nerds in button-down shirts, collegiate jocks fidgeting in their chairs.  Biceps and bulges everywhere.  A shirt lifts up so I can see a flash of abs.  A hand moves absently onto the crotch.















12:30.  Lunch.  I eat lunch in my office to avoid the crowds at the Student Union.  Five students are sitting on the couches in the main office, waiting to talk to faculty members, in front of a plate of brownies left over from a meeting last Thursday.  I walk over and ask "Do you think these brownies are still good after five days?"

A slim hipster says "Let's find out."  He picks one up and tries to feed it to the cute boy sitting next to him on the couch.

"I'm not eating that!" the cute boy exclaims.

"Why not? You've had worse things in your mouth."  He grins at me.

2:00 pm  My advanced class.  The buffed blond guy from my intro class last semester is sitting in the front row.

3:30 pm.  My other advanced class.  There he is again!  He's enrolled in both.

I also see the Hispanic bodybuilder who was in my intro class twice (he failed the first time).

I can't wait to start calling on them.

5:00 pm.  Gym.  It's packed with the "new year's resolution" students, who vow to get in shape every fall semester.  It's like the gym in January.  I have to wait for my turn on the machines.

Two guys who were in my intro class earlier today are using the shoulder press, at 40 pounds.  I lift four times as much.  They stare.

Another cute guy is using the incline press, at 60!  I move it down to 180.  

"How can you lift so much?" he asks.

"I used to work for a bodybuilding magazine," I tell him.

"That must have been exciting.  Did you meet anybody famous?"

We make a coffee date for tomorrow.

6:00 pm.  I go upstairs to walk around the indoor track a few times.  There are at least four shirts vs. skins basketball games going on.  I did a long run yesterday, but nothing says I can't do a nice mile and gawk.

6:30 pm.  The locker room is packed!  Stripping down next to me is a tall, thin guy.  He turns his back to change underwear, but I still get a glimpse of an enormous package.  Then a third guy returns from the shower and needs to get to the locker between us.  We step out of the way as he removes his towel, his gigantic penis in full view, and fumbles with his lock.

7:30 pm.  Back home, I order dinner from the pita place downtown.  The delivery guy gives me a shocked smile and starts stammering.  "Hi!  Um...your total is...I mean, here's your pita..," like I'm a famous movie star.

Maybe he was in my class earlier today.

8:30 pm.  Do I dare go on Grindr?  First week of class, all of the new guys will be on.

Sure enough, there are dozens of new profiles within a mile radius.  I change my profile picture from chest to face, but still, I get a barrage of "Hi, Daddy!" and "Come over and do me!"

This will be a fun semester.

See also: Wagner's Top 10 Turn-Ons; Classroom Bulges