Oiled

By Bikermike

I wanted to try something new. I contemplated this strange desire while I was hanging naked by my wrists, secured to the rafters in this vaulted old farm building, awaiting Master’s return.

I was mid-thirties, with a gym-toned, defined physique. I had absolutely no trouble in securing (safe) sex through visiting some of the gay clubs in London, Birmingham and Manchester, and of course, through websites like Recon and Gaydar. In fact, I was getting rather bored and craved something different; more perverted.

Yes, I had tried a little bit of BDSM, if you could call being thrashed on my arse by a leather guy a few months ago. While it stung at the time, the effect soon wore off leaving me frustrated. Why didn’t the guy really hurt me? Why did I find the prospect of being soundly thrashed, tortured and humiliated so exciting? These were the “themes” of my wanking fantasies from that day to the present.

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A Day at the Renaissance Faire

By Rubrpig

Josh and his buddy Marc were not your typical gamers. Both men were tall, athletic and stars on their local semi-pro hockey team. Josh was the starting goalie and Marc was the star defenseman on the team. The team had taken their league championship several weeks prior and the two men were enjoying some well-deserved time off. Both men were huge fans of World of Warcraft, and both had worked through the game and now were highly ranked warriors.

Both men signed out of the game and remained online chatting about what to do over the weekend. Josh mentioned that he had seen an ad for a renaissance faire that was opening on the Friday and it had potential, as there was also an event listing that showed that there was going to be a jousting tournament as a part of the faire. Both men decided it was worth checking out and made plans to hook up the next morning, which was the opening day and head out and check it out.

The next morning, the two buddies hooked up and headed out of town to the site where the Faire had been setup. It was a beautiful warm day and the 90-minute drive went quickly. After arriving, parking and paying for their tickets, the two buddies dressed in tank tops, board shorts and flip flops and their team ball caps on backwards looking like typical jocks wandered through the faire.

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The Edge – Chapter 11

By Steellock

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.

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