@tommy21217.bsky.social
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"Who tied this?"
November 5, 2025 at 3:09 PM
"Who tied this?"
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"Gentlemen, his name is Marcus and he is here to entertain you tonight, enjoy"
November 5, 2025 at 4:11 PM
"Gentlemen, his name is Marcus and he is here to entertain you tonight, enjoy"
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548 feet away. Hey. Hi.
September 3, 2025 at 2:49 PM
548 feet away. Hey. Hi.
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"I see were both worked up"
September 8, 2025 at 6:56 PM
"I see were both worked up"
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The probation officers liked to make their rounds before dawn, waking probationers up with unannounced visits. Preferring to find them half-dressed, caught between sleep and exposure — many sporting morning erections — when they were most off guard, most open to advances. They liked the control.
September 8, 2025 at 5:49 PM
The probation officers liked to make their rounds before dawn, waking probationers up with unannounced visits. Preferring to find them half-dressed, caught between sleep and exposure — many sporting morning erections — when they were most off guard, most open to advances. They liked the control.
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Cmon baby, you can get it all down your throat"
September 9, 2025 at 12:18 AM
Cmon baby, you can get it all down your throat"
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"Say it louder Hole," ""Can’t think straight no more… you got me gone, man. You got me kneelin’, doin’ what you say. I ain’t nothin’ but Hole now. Feels right… thank you for makin’ me yours, thank you for your cum"
August 22, 2025 at 10:38 AM
"Say it louder Hole," ""Can’t think straight no more… you got me gone, man. You got me kneelin’, doin’ what you say. I ain’t nothin’ but Hole now. Feels right… thank you for makin’ me yours, thank you for your cum"
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• @eager1.bsky.social "The booty is bootying."
August 14, 2025 at 8:01 PM
• @eager1.bsky.social "The booty is bootying."
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training the younger brother
July 28, 2025 at 11:00 AM
training the younger brother
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Damn, bruh… Coach really tore that ass up, huh?
July 27, 2025 at 10:22 AM
Damn, bruh… Coach really tore that ass up, huh?
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that's right baby, swallow it all down
July 27, 2025 at 10:56 AM
that's right baby, swallow it all down
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They brought him to the corral at sunset. The others watched from the fence. His new owner didn’t speak. He just stripped, stepped behind, and mounted Clay slow and deep. No lube. No shame. Just ownership, raw and final. Clay grunted once, then settled into silence. He knew what he was now.
August 3, 2025 at 1:00 PM
They brought him to the corral at sunset. The others watched from the fence. His new owner didn’t speak. He just stripped, stepped behind, and mounted Clay slow and deep. No lube. No shame. Just ownership, raw and final. Clay grunted once, then settled into silence. He knew what he was now.
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Each of the five black bulls knelt where assigned, mouths open beneath their own names. No commands, no touch—just the soft drip of yield into waiting throats. DeShawn, Malik, Tyrone, Marcus, and Tito. What they gave, they took back. The black bodies obeyed without question.
July 31, 2025 at 4:44 PM
Each of the five black bulls knelt where assigned, mouths open beneath their own names. No commands, no touch—just the soft drip of yield into waiting throats. DeShawn, Malik, Tyrone, Marcus, and Tito. What they gave, they took back. The black bodies obeyed without question.
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He gave it. Now he swallowed it. Still on his knees, lips parted, eyes steady—DeShawn didn’t flinch as Tyler tipped the glass. Warm, thick, his own yield. No reward, no praise. Just a closed loop: produce, consume, obey. This was training. This was purpose.
July 31, 2025 at 4:30 PM
He gave it. Now he swallowed it. Still on his knees, lips parted, eyes steady—DeShawn didn’t flinch as Tyler tipped the glass. Warm, thick, his own yield. No reward, no praise. Just a closed loop: produce, consume, obey. This was training. This was purpose.
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One subject. Four extractions. Tyler watched each one—silent, steady. DeShawn obeyed every position: on his back, on all fours, restrained, opened. The machine pulled. The probe hummed. By the fourth round, he didn’t think. He just gave—because Tyler expected nothing less.
July 31, 2025 at 4:19 PM
One subject. Four extractions. Tyler watched each one—silent, steady. DeShawn obeyed every position: on his back, on all fours, restrained, opened. The machine pulled. The probe hummed. By the fourth round, he didn’t think. He just gave—because Tyler expected nothing less.
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The black men come in restless, hard, and defiant. By week’s end, they’re locked, docile, and grateful. That’s the reward—watching the shift. Not the devices. The change. Seeing a black man settle, and learn to wait. The clinic reshapes them, and if they're lucky the White technician fucks them.
July 31, 2025 at 5:07 PM
The black men come in restless, hard, and defiant. By week’s end, they’re locked, docile, and grateful. That’s the reward—watching the shift. Not the devices. The change. Seeing a black man settle, and learn to wait. The clinic reshapes them, and if they're lucky the White technician fucks them.
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July 19, 2025 at 5:47 PM