Category Archives: Story

Story

Double Trouble – Part 08

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By Peter B. and Art Intelli

Chapter Eight: The Test of Hands

The morning came with a shift in the air.

No whistle. No commands.

Just silence.

Peter sat on the edge of his cot, arms limp, legs heavy from the ball and chain still welded to his ankle. The collar remained tight around his neck — by now more a part of him than an intrusion.

Then came Wade’s boots. Slow. Deliberate. Dust-streaked from dawn patrol.

“On your feet, chain boy.”

Peter rose.

Outside, Colt stood next to a second prisoner. Younger. Pale. Dressed like he’d been dragged out of a dorm room and dumped in the desert. His eyes were wide, darting. He trembled at the sight of the twins.

Continue reading Double Trouble – Part 08 →

Story

It started with Mitts – Part 19-2

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By Bondagegimp

Jad

Bob holds me in his arms for a long time. I feel depressed. So weak and exposed. Subjugated. Bob has shown me his power. He has shown me how much he has me in his grasp. He makes the decisions. Not me. Just because he shows a moment of weakness doesn’t mean anything will change for me. I actually really like that about Bob, that he has no problem showing himself to be weak and vulnerable sometimes. He doesn’t have to constantly play the macho like Jad. Jad doesn’t allow himself any weaknesses; he always has to be the tough guy.

That’s probably why it’s hitting me harder than expected. The restraints aren’t actually very restrictive; it’s this five-point chain combination that I’ve had several times before: a collar, then a chain to the handcuffs, and then to the ankle cuffs. Sure, it restricts my movements, but I can still move. And muzzles and mittens are nothing new to me. But after Bob leaned against me like that, I briefly felt like an equal. For a moment, I really thought he was going to free me. Especially since the harsh restraints and the electroshock treatment had worn me down. I’m exhausted, I’d like a break. And Bob feels that, I know that. But he doesn’t give me a break, he doesn’t let me out of my situation. The feeling of freedom. I had almost forgotten it. In Bob’s moment of weakness, it suddenly flashed through my mind, but it was an illusion.

Continue reading It started with Mitts – Part 19-2 →

Story

Double Trouble – Part 07

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By Peter B. and Art Intelli

Chapter Seven: The Haul Road

The morning came with a new kind of silence.

Peter had grown used to the sound of clinking metal—his own breathing tangled with the rhythm of ankle irons. He’d even adjusted to the permanent weight of the ball and chain, learning to shift it with a timed swing, like an extension of his body.

But today, the twins stood at the edge of the bunkhouse, arms folded, waiting beside a long, flatbed trailer loaded with something new: railroad ties—dense, creosote-soaked, and heavy enough to buckle a man if he wasn’t careful.

Wade barked the order. “You’re hauling every one of those to the fence line. Half-mile down the haul road.”

Colt added, “Stack ‘em neat. No draggin’. We hear draggin’, you’re back in the box.”

Peter swallowed hard and nodded once.

No backtalk.

They handed him thick gloves, more as a dare than a kindness.

And the labor began.

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Story

It started with Mitts – Part 19-1

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By Bondagegimp

Liberation?

While Bob was putting Jad in chains, Doggy sat there with his eyes wide open, watching, fascinated, what was happening. It was hard to tell what was going on inside him. Now that Bob is finished with Jad for the time being, Doggy comes crawling up, apparently wanting to get closer to Jad. He tries in vain to get onto the bed. The sight of him helplessly trying with his stumps is pathetic and somehow hot at the same time.

Bob notices him too and lifts him onto the bed, where Doggy immediately starts rubbing his rubberized head against Jad. Bob goes over to a shelf, then to Doggy, takes off the muzzle and puts a ring gag in his mouth instead, securing it with a small lock behind his head. Doggy can no longer close his mouth, but he can use his tongue. He seemed to have been waiting for this. Bob recognized it well again. Doggy immediately starts licking Jad in his rubber suit. He greedily glides his tongue over Jad’s athletic body, following every line of his muscles. He seems to have longed for this for a long time. Of course, Jad always kept him at a distance and Doggy could only yearn for him from a distance.

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Story

It started with Mitts –Part 18

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By Bondagegimp

Electrotorture

Jad had practically jumped up before the glass had even hit the floor. “I’m getting everything ready!” Fuck, he’s probably been imagining all this for days, he won’t spare me anything. I burrow into Bob’s chest. Doggy is still standing there, motionless, with the glass on his back. Bob and I look at him, I look at Bob. I have to laugh into my gag. Bob laughs out loud too, goes to Doggy, takes the glass down, and brings him to us. We both cuddle up to Bob. I don’t really like it, though. I realize how jealous I am. Bob should be mine, mine alone. Yes, admittedly, a questionable claim for someone who’s about to become his slave. But those are my feelings. Another topic I should discuss with Bob. I want him for myself, for me alone!

I tolerate Doggy lying on Bob’s thigh too. I feel a bit sorry for him. Jad seems to be going hard on him. Although, he’s been doing this for a while. And Doggy keeps coming. So, he seems to like it. Just like I haven’t taken any of the opportunities to get away from Bob. He gave me the chance a few times. I stayed. Not least because it wasn’t a final decision. I could postpone the decision. I know procrastination from my studies. It catches up with you really badly at some point. In a few days I have to decide. What exactly? Bob or no Bob? Give up my previous life? Is it giving up? Or is it about choosing a new life? A life full of love, lust and passion? But the price is severing all ties to my former life.

Continue reading It started with Mitts –Part 18 →

Story

Swim Coach

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By BondageChallengeGames

My heart raced. Coach’s hand slid up my thigh and stopped right at the edge of my speedo. My cock twitched.

“Do you think you earned it?” He grabbed my collar and leaned close to my ear, “did you make me proud out there?”

“Yes, coach,” I said. I was still sore from the morning. “I gave you everything I had.”

He grabbed my hard cock through my speedo and squeezed. I winced and tensed my muscles. The tight but comfortable leather cuffs on my wrist and ankles kept my limbs secure to the chair.

Dream Boy Bondage

I heard the rip of an envelope. The note inside determined my fate. Whether I was about to be rewarded or punished for my performance that morning. He pulled my blindfold down to show me the note.

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Story

It started with Mitts –Part 17

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By Bondagegimp

Darkness

Black. Everything is black. It was still light in the cabin when Bob put in my contact lenses. But there’s nothing left of it, not the slightest bit of light. My eyes dart around in panic, trying to see anything, at least a little bit of brightness. But nothing! Since the second lens was in my eye, I haven’t been able to calm down. It’s too brutal how Bob simply took away my sight. One moment it was light, now it’s just black. Blacker than any darkness.

Now Bob snuggles up to me, half on top of me, one leg over my legs so he could rub my diaper with his thigh, or at least I can feel the weight of his leg muscles on my cock. His upper body is half on top of me, one arm around me. His head is very close to mine; I can feel his beard, his breathing. He speaks soothingly to me, holding my head. At the same time, I feel him staring at me. I knew his gaze, when he pierced me with his eyes, peering deep into my innermost being, fathoming me. I feel his face above mine. I know he is staring at me like that again. I know how closely he studied other people’s gazes and how much he can read in them. But it must be different if the gaze isn’t returned. The black contact lenses work both ways. I’m blind, but Bob can’t look into me either. It seems to fascinate Bob incredibly, because he remains completely motionless for several minutes. “Such helpless eyes” – that’s what he says again and again.

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Story

The Shackles of Curiosity – Part 02

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By Peter B. and Art Intelli

A Note from the Author:

This story was originally meant to be a “One Off”, but I received several messages encouraging me to continue this scenario, so here you go… (I hope you enjoy!)

The Walk Home

The city had never felt so loud.

Peter had managed to pull his trench coat up over his shoulders, so that he could wear it like a cape.  He would have been totally fucked if the damn Argento had actually cuffed his hand behind his back as he had said he would.  At the time, Peter was disaapointed.  Now he was elated. But even as it was, the manacles were not really covered beneath his coat when it flapped open, and they glistened like mirrored bracelets. He hid in the wings until it sounded like everyone had gone home, and then he left the theater under cover of night, the cool metal around his ankles clinked softly with each step, echoing off alley walls and empty sidewalks. A few passersby cast him strange looks, but no one stopped. In a city like this, you could walk down the street in chains and people would still pretend not to see.

Continue reading The Shackles of Curiosity – Part 02 →