Matt the Ex-Marine?
Matt awoke. He always woke fast, no slow realisation of where he was just light like a light bulb. It was today. He realised he was hard, very hard under the blanket but he knew that doing something about it was wrong today. He needed all the sexual tension to help get though it. Yesterday he had been setting up the squad. They had been chatting in the bar and he had reminded them all of the flogging they had seen 12 months ago at the “Pride” event. A few guys were new and had not seen it so Matt had encouraged the others to talk it through and give them the story. How they had gone into the club under the Leatherstore to find a bar and lots of cellars with guys playing.
Then at the end the crowd gathered looking at the muscle hunk suspended from the ceiling, his hood hiding his identify. Then they talked about the manager’s challenge to the audience at the club; who would agree to take the same punishment as the House Boi suspended in front of them? Of course no one had! Not a surprise when they had seen the flogging and whipping that had then followed – for a good hour covering the guy’s back, chest, butt and thighs. His tough body had been covered in welts and bruises but he had done little more than growl and swear in a low deep voice.
As he expected the group decided to go and watch again this time as the Newbies were sceptical that it had been that good.
Continue reading The Edge – Chapter 11
So here I am, it’s Friday and I am trotting down the stone stairs into the cellar bar, my boots thumping as I go down. Back in my thick leather bulldog chest harness and 20-hole black boots all covered by Camo trousers and a Levi jacket over a white T shirt.
At the bottom is an appointment with a tight steel gibbet cage. Last weekend I had spent a night in it; after a play session Ryan the barman had slept the sleep of the unjust in front of me while an Estim box had zapped pads all over my body at 30-second intervals. I had been twitching and writhing as much as the steel embrace allowed – which was virtually not at all! My cock was tired and sore after the evening’s entertainment but had still been pushing hard against the spikes in a chastity cage Ryan had locked on as he released me from ‘The Shed.’ I had ‘Mmmrrrpphh’ed all night through a rubber tongue gag unable to wake him and get him to turn the fucking thing off! The next morning he had commented that it was a good thing that pre-cum was not toxic to stainless steel, judging by the amount that I had dribbled onto the solid steel of the cage.
Continue reading The Cage – Part 04
“Your true love gave to you: A dragon tail over both cheeks! Happy Christmas Boi! Are you ready for a celebration?” He asked. The impact is like a thick cane with a fiery sting that wraps itself around the side of your butt and makes you shout. It fucking hurts and is normally held for the end of the sessions! Or when i’ve been a bad boi….
“On the second day of Christmas” and i saw stars as He landed our widest and thickest rubber paddle on first my right then my left butt, swinging it hard and hitting right where the dragon tail had just fallen. My heart sank – Oh shit what was in His seriously inventive mind? “And a dragon tail over both cheeks,” He chanted and the action followed the words.
Not that there was much i could, or i suppose really wanted to, do about it… My wrists were locked in thick padded leather restraints that were locked to the arms of the St Andrews Cross. A second set were locked round the legs of my 20-hole boots and locked to the spread legs of the cross. A thick wide leather belt went round my tight waist, holding me firmly to the structure but also a safety measure for wayward strokes. Now in two years together he had NEVER missed with a stroke!
His present to me was a new “Bishop” head harness, complete with a long tongue gag; a flat rubber plate that was now sitting over my tongue and very effectively restricting the volume of my first howl of the night.
Continue reading My True Love Gave to Me
It was a long week.
Last weekend standing behind a locked cell door all night with my cock and balls hanging out of a round porthole exposed to all cummers had been one of the best times I have had. The guys in the bar had taken turns to pump me dry; they had sucked and pulled and tweaked me to orgasm four or five times and then just kept going. I was dry, and it was agony. Wonderful agony. Then after the barman had lifted his arm, rung ‘Time’ on the old bell and eventually got everyone out of the bar and came over and peeked at me through the little window into my eyes. He grinned and mimed wanking – fuck not again I tried to yell, shaking my head furiously, and he laughed. Bastard – I was falling in love with this guy!
He disappeared from my window, and then I jumped as much as the chains on my wrists and ankles would allow when I felt his hand on my poor aching cock. He was very gently massaging it and also rolling my balls in his hard hand. I realized he was rubbing in soothing oil. It felt wonderful. Suddenly he had stretched the silicon ring over the root of my cock and balls then eased my bruised and tender member into the lubed tube. The padlock clicked, I could hear it in the now quiet bar. I was back in chastity. For another week or so I supposed.
Then he opened the door and unlocked the restraints, and I staggered forward. He caught me under the arms and carried me to a barstool. I weigh 85 kilo – this guy is as strong as he looks! It turns out his name is Ryan, and he runs the bar for its owner, his Master!
Continue reading The Cage – Part 03
I walked into the bar the following weekend. I had dressed more suitably, and I had been working out in the week, too. Showing were my loose camo trousers and the bottoms of a pair of black boots with white laces. On top there was a white T and my Bleacher jacket. The guy at the top of the stairs had just let me straight through! Nice to be expected!
My cock has been locked in a silicon cage for a week by a chuckling and very sexy barman, and I’m very horny.
My barman was there again. Still in leather bondage shorts, boots and harness and still absolutely fucking gorgeous! Did he even own anything else? He looked up and grinned at me – ‘Hey ready for round 2?’ he called. ‘How close can you judge it this weekend? You want a third session in another week?’ So he had rumbled me. I was hooked and ready for a good night of kink, and he knew it.
The three cages were still there. The standing one with the restraints, the head cage and the large supply of titclamps – that one was intense. The puppy cage with the piss hood and butt fucking machine and then the heavy duty one with the stocks, ankle/wrist bar and estim box.
‘You want more of the same or a change?’ he said, the grin getting wider. ‘We got a new cage, and you will love it. You get to have the cock cage removed too. Got to be good eh?’ He waved at a cloth hanging on the wall. ‘Its behind there — you have to choose without seeing it too!’
Continue reading The Cage – Part 02
Here I am, sitting in a steel cage, a long penis gag in my mouth with my wrists and ankles locked into a rigid bondage bar. It’s been an hour and I’m starting to get very sore arms and my back is starting to spasm.
How the fuck do I get into these situations?
A few hours earlier I had been wandering though Soho at a loose end and looking for a bit of fun. As I passed one of the fetish shops I browsed the window and was handed a flier for a party in one of the clubs. They have a dungeon bar in their cellar and tonight it was open for fun. There was a strict entry dress requirement – leather only …
Well that was OK; I was in thick leather jeans and my boots with a black polo shirt. Should be fine.
The guy on the door was a tall, muscle-bound hunk in a tight black T shirt and jeans who gave me a look over and waved me on through, so I headed off down the stairs following the sound of the music and the babble of many guys chatting and having fun.
Continue reading The Cage – Part 01
He lay on the bed.
His eyes looked at the inside of a thick leather hood. The thick leather gripped his head all round, tight, but not too tight. He could feel the intrusion of the gag into his mouth. It was a rubber plate that came right in beyond the point where his tongue could get round it and it made him drool. He knew the hood was padlocked on – he had done it earlier. It was one of his favorites, an old Sci Fi hood from Mr S in the US; his first hood in fact bought many years ago and showing it’s age and use. But the reason he had chosen it today was that it resonated inside with the sound of breathing. The sound of the air rushing in and out of your nose and through the two small grommets in the nose of the hood. When strapped in tight you could only really hear yourself. He could make it stop by opening his mouth wide and breathing round the gag. He had to do this occasionally anyway to clear the drool. But the sound would hide any noise made by a visitor…
He kept on lying on the bed; he had no choice. His 20 hole laced black Grinder skinhead boots were padlocked from the D ring on the padded and locked ankle restraints to D rings at each side of the bed frame.
His thick muscular left wrist was gripped by another padded restraint wrapped around and locked to his arm; locked again to the bedframe D ring.
The D ring on the top of the hood was padlocked to a chain across the top of the bed.
Continue reading The Mystery
By Steellock and slavebladeboi
Matt listened to the familiar thump of his boots on concrete as he ran towards the shop. It was still before 9 in the morning but the sun was warm and the sweat sheen on his shoulders reflected the light as his muscles moved effortlessly beneath the skin. He felt good, as he always did with the prospect of a day at the shop.
About 100 yards away from the front door he stopped to catch his breath and cool slightly. He didn’t want to turn up as though he was ready for a shower but Jim had asked if he could be there before 9 so he walked on slowly towards the shop. It looked closed. Although it was never that bright inside it looked darker than usual so Matt tried the door expecting it to be locked. It opened straight away, which took him a bit by surprise but thinking no more of it he went in. Walking across the floor to the back of the shop he heard a noise and two guys stepped out from behind one of the display racks each holding pieces of leather equipment they had taken off the rack nearest them.
“Say, do you work here?” the first guy asked Matt. He was about Matt’s size, older by 10 years but looked as hard muscled as anyone Matt could remember. Wearing a sleeveless T shirt and jeans he walked over to him holding out a thick leather hood.
“I want this for my boi but I’m not clear about the fixings. Can you help?”
“Well, I don’t actually work here although I have done some work for the owner,” Matt said catching a glimpse of the second man pulling the tail of a dangerous looking single tailed whip slowly through his fingers, a thick flogger hanging over his shoulder. “What do you want to know?”
Continue reading The Edge – Chapter 10