Dear Santa

By Nephilim

Dear Santa,

I am writing this letter for My boy, as he is unable to hold a pen. Thanks to the locking mitts I put on him at the start of the month. I don’t really know what he wants for Christmas, nor do I care. What he needs though is some more restraints, so that he can take care of Me more easily.

Please dear Santa, bring My boy a Neoprene Sleepsack and a Neoprene Cocksucker Hood. He has been nice all year, I made sure of it. Anyway, as he is in bondage almost 24/7, he doesn’t get many occasion to be naughty. Well, he is a naughty slut, but you know what I mean.

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Matt on Display – Part 3

By Steellock

Jess looked around the big barn dungeon. All around there were scenes of bondage and BDSM. Men indulging in ‘leather sex’ of all kinds.

On one side a guy was strapped to a wheel being tortured by electrical shocks, applied to pads placed on the muscles of his legs and arms, he had ring contacts on his cock and a pair of polar clamps passing current through his tits.

Other guys were being flogged and whipped on a pair of St. Andrews crosses. Scenes in all directions.

In the middle of the wide space there were two matching leather covered tables. On one a heavily built black haired man in black boots was locked into a steel ankle and wrist bar. His head, wrapped with a black leather gag, was writhing from side to side.

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One Year – Part 17

By Taurus

Part 17 – “Sorry”

Russell was almost bursting into tears like the slave in his arms, whose arms clamped around his handler with all his might.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry…”

Russell shushed and stroked the back of his slave to the best of his ability in order to quench the crying.

Taking initiative, he dialled the doctor.

“Ugh…it’s way too fucking late, just let me -”

“Sam, my slave just had a really bad panic attack. I need you here at Cell 1 right now.”

“Be right there, keep him alive.”

James continued his panicked chant of “I’m sorry” before Sam rushed in after five minutes and directed him to breathe deeply and slowly.

After half an hour, at 11 pm, James was more or less calmed, and able to talk again. Russell took off his shirt and sandwiched James’ head between his fuzzy chest and the shirt, wiping his tears off in the process.

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