If you are younger then18y, please, leave!

If you are younger then18y, please, leave!

Please, read!

Warning!
In this blog you can find immages (mostly drawings) that can be disturbing and not acceptable to view for everyone. It is only fantasy and has no connection with reality. But, in any case, if you think you might feel upset by these creations, please, LEAVE!
The same rule for minors - if you are under legal age, please, leave this blog!

neděle 27. října 2024

Inspired by a statuette from Copenhagen's museum of art (Apollo flaying Marsyas by Pieter Saverij) I created another version of Marsyas picture... though my Apollo and Marsyas look more like an average men. ;-)


 

Bought on the black market, Marsyas (he knew that name would one day bring him bad luck) found himself on the remote farm of a guy named Jeff Apollo.

Jeff was the owner of a specialty restaurant that operated completely illegally and attracted guests from all over the world, usually very wealthy and influential, with special culinary requirements.

Usually, he would pass the black market cuts to the slaughter crew in the supply wing of the restaurant, but this time he was intrigued by something about the aquired body and decided to process it himself.

He tied it to a conveniently shaped old pear tree that grew on the edge of an orchard close to the farm yard. After tying it up, after he had thoroughly inspected and examined the naked body, and because he found the piece very attractive, he pulled down his trousers, smeared a little fat on the tied-up anus and fucked it.

After about a quarter of an hour of fucking he came in the muscular anus, he pulled his cock out, let it just hang out of his pants to dry, and pulled his stool closer.

Due to the wishes of some important clients, he always had a camera at the ready. He started the recording and began working a long incision down the length of the front of right thigh of the long-pig...


 

pondělí 21. října 2024

The Pecs' steaks (final)

 In my last post I published some drawings (sketches), a reference photo sent to me by my model and co-creator of the scene, and also a minicomic that Doomed_Guy created on twitter, "X", which inspired both of us.
Now I can finally declare the scene finished and present to you the color version, which I had a lot of fun creating. My colleague and model likes it... I hope you like it too.

That day, the client chose a long pig with the number 18 from the daily menu. He was a tall, well-built, handsome, fair young man with a well-developed chest and decent equipment between his legs.

The usual round through the restaurant, with portions marked on the pig's body and picking at the dining tables, did not take place this time. A prominent client had booked the restaurant for himself for the evening and ordered portions straight away.

And because he chose the testicles of our pig as his starter, it was necessary to empty them as most guests preferred this option in terms of taste. The second pig on the menu for the day, No. 21, served the purpose.

This important client, as a regular financial contributor to the running of our business, was automatically given the opportunity to watch the slaughter of our pig in person free of charge, for which otherwise regular clients have to pay a surcharge if they wish to use this service.

Thus, before the client's eyes, as on a theatrical stage, a scene was enacted in which No. 21, bound and on his knees, was forced to suck No. 18 to completion under the supervision of the butchery staff.

Since the quality of the meat is best when the pig is most satisfied, one waits in such a case for the moment of ejaculation....

At the moment it occurred, almost at the same instant, one of the butchers cut the pectoral muscles off the pig, one by one, while the other cut off the pig's balls.

The pig was subsequently slaughtered.


Later, when the satisfied customer had left the restaurant, other diners would be allowed to come in and other pigs, including No 21, would be next in line for selection.


(reminder: strictly fantasy!)

pátek 11. října 2024

The pecs' steaks

 Not long ago I came across this post on platform X by Doomed_Guy Gore depicting slicing the pecs off the guy to be roasted as steaks... It is this short comix" - https://x.com/GouroGuro/status/1829649999627763932

 

 

Not very long after that my online friend sent me link to the same post... We started to talk about it  and I did a sketch of a pose I had in mind for the hero of my version of the scene and asked my friend to repeat that pose himself and make a reference photo for me.
 
(The detail in the right above corner came later when we discussed what fase should be depicted)
 
He did so and this was the result. 

After I received the photo, I started to draw sketches and made few versions that were evolving into final image. Here are those one by one... I hope you like it as much as we enjoyed the process of creating them.



Which one is your favourite? You can share your opinion in the comments. Also you can suggest the "comentary".
 
 

neděle 6. října 2024

Tripod torture

 The next stage after the victim was hoisted and tied to a tripod like an animal for slaughter...

follow up to previously published drawing, inspired by painting of Marsyás by Charles André van Loo.


 


sobota 26. listopadu 2022

enslaving the rebel fighter

 Clearing my old Tumblr profile, as the censorship made it useless years ago... 

This is one of the posts with my own photo - in this case photo of me created by Lichtreich - German photographer.



 Writen by PeterBrownUK:

LOCALE: EASTERN EUROPE / ARABIA   TIME : PRESENT He was a rebel fighter, or terrorist as his government wanted him to be known, trying to overthrow the unjust regime and restore the promised freedoms to his divided country.  The sheer volume of modern weaponry, communications systems, spy drones and other military hardware that the government could buy did however mean that he and most of the other rebels were ultimately surrounded in a small town.  In spite of their heroic efforts, holding out against almost impossible odds for two weeks, and running out of ammunition and food, they knew they had to surrender. Although some of them wanted a bloody final battle and death, they were persuaded to hold off by their fellows as they could, they thought, eventually be released and then resume the struggle.  The UN Representative negotiated the deal, assuring the brave men that they would be treated as prisoners of war under the terms of the Geneva Convention, and not as terrorists outside the protection of international laws governing the treatment of combatants. 

 All seemed to go well at first as they filed past the government troops, surrendering their arms. Under the eyes of the world’s TV cameras they were given a hot meal, and those with torn and shredded uniforms were provided with blankets against the weather.   The cameras watched as they were loaded into trucks - without the government guards mistreating them in any way - and they were driven off to a POW camp.  All seemed fine, as there were large tents to house groups of 8, a central mess room and recreational hall, showers and latrines,  and a medical facility. Several news organisations sent their reporters to the camps, and the world’s viewers saw the young, fit fighters exercising and playing soccer and apparently thriving. 

The world lost interest of course, as other more “pressing” news stories crowded the airwaves.  And then mysteriously groups of men started to disappear from the camp - perhaps ten or so per day. The treatment these unfortunates got from the guards was very different - roused in the dead of night they were cuffed, gagged and chained, and then threw into trucks just as if they were cargo and not men.   They stripped them stark naked at the airfield, bundling them into a small cage in the aircraft - carrying them this way made it so much easier as they could piss during the long flight with their waste simply flowing across the floor of the cargo hold. They shivered and clung together for warmth as the hold was not heated, and this was the first time that many of them had been in such intimate contact with another man’s body - in training they were of course always in uniform. 

It was blisteringly hot when their crate was unloaded, and the guards here were different - they had guns of course, but were also equipped with short whips and a fearsome electric device which they soon learned was a “slave goad”. These were the means of keeping them under control.  On arrival at a heavily guarded compound they were made to wash each other thoroughly - to get them used to having other men handle their bodies as we know, but the reason for which they did not suspect at this stage. After a thorough medically exam they then had most of their body hair shaved off leaving only a suggestion of their pubes to indicate “manliness”.  They were separated into two groups, and those in the uncircumcised group were lined up for a simple, but painful, operation by a man in a blood-stained white coat.   

The sale the next day was humiliating - strung up with their hands above their heads to a beam they had to endure the prodding, probing and intimate examination of their bodies by many, many men. Then each had a few brief moments on a brightly lit stage where what as clearly an auctioneer sold them off to the audience of laughing, shouting men. 

He now stands alone, without his companions, in a space at his owner’s palace reserved for the reception and treatment of new slaves.  He is almost used to being kept entirely naked now although whenever guards approach he covers his genitals with his hands in that automatic reflex action that new slaves still possess. He wonders what all this has happened to him, and why the world has let him be humiliated and treated in this way.  He worries about his family back home and how they are managing without him  - his young wife pregnant with their third child, and his two young sons. When will he see them again, when will he feel his wife’s soft caresses, when will he be able to take his sons in his arms?

 Little does he realise that his new owner has paid considerably over the odds for him as devious enquiries to his home country before the auction revealed these family details. His owner relishes using fit, handsome young men as his sexual playthings, especially those with a proven breeding record that shows them to be “straight”.   

So however much he stands there and longs fort his family, for the caresses of his wife, it isn’t going to happen.  He will be tied down to one of the so-called “fucking horses” so that he can begin to learn how an owner uses a slave.  And as he gains more experience and realises he is powerless, he might even begin to enjoy the feel of another man’s cock against and in his body. 

neděle 13. listopadu 2022

The end of sub Lawrence

 After some fun the Masters had with him they tied him to a metal grid, as some other subs before him... and even some not far from him... The metal grill was portable, with small posts in the corners of the fireplace prepared for it. Hot barbecue charcoal was spread out on the fire pit area and one of the Masters made sure there was always enough charcoal at the right temperature. Occasionally he added it with a metal shovel. His other concern was to make sure that all parts of the sub's body were evenly roasted. For this purpose he had in one hand a sort of two-pronged pitchfork, which he used from time to time to press some of the sub's limbs or torso against the grate and hold it closer to the radiant heat.
The other watching dominants amused themselves by rubbing oil on the sub's body, so that it would not burn too quickly...
The advantage was that the temperature was lower at the edges of the fireplace, so the dominants didn't get burned, and the subs on the grate stayed conscious longer as well.