Three Slaves – Part 06

By Practicerestraint

Chris led 502 down the hall to another door.  They entered and 502 found himself in a large gym.

“This facility is for the slaves and for the staff.  Patrons visit here when they wish a gym scene with a slave.  Sarge overseas the fitness of the slaves and the staff.”

Chris pulled on the leash and led 502 to the right side of the room.  502 heard something behind him, but he felt a tug on the leash when he started to turn his head.

“Look around on this side and get an idea of how your workouts will be designed.”

As he scanned the equipment, 502 found that there were standard pieces of workout gear, but there were duplicates.  The duplicates had been modified in some fashion.  It took him a moment to register the differences.  His eyes settled on three stationary bikes.

Continue reading Three Slaves – Part 06

Andrew Fitch gets tied up and jacked

Andrew Fitch is eager to know what it’s like to be on the receiving end. They have him strip down into nothing but his underwear as they bind him with tight belts. Andrew’s eyes are blindfolded as his cock grows in his underwear from Sebastian’s teasing. Andrew’s uncut cock stays rock hard as they apply suckers to his nipples. Just as he’s about to blow his load, they torment his nipples and punch his ripped abs, giving him the mixture of pain and pleasure all at once.

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Going gay in prison

Within a day of entering prison you will come across characters who go gay in jail. Outside they are 100 percent straight, but once inside they are ripe for cock. Men who want to score will freely offer up their bodies for a hit. The guards will naturally turn a blind eye to this for the most part but with one exception. When a jail search is on the cards who do you think the hardened inmates turn to hide their stash? The man with the most compliant arse! And here he is, being fully explored and checked!

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Forlorn Hope – Part 06: It Can Always Get Worse

By DR754

male bondage stories Hampton JailToday is Monday, August 9, 1967.

Awakening a little past dawn, I stood up – and nearly tripped over my leg irons.

It took me a moment to process where I was and what was happening.

Oh, right. It wasn’t a bad dream. I’m in jail, in chains, and in a shitload of trouble.

Stumbling to the toilet to take a piss, I pieced together shattered memories. Somewhere through the fog of my mind, more details of my early-morning arrest came into focus above the porcelain bowl.

There I was, locked in the cell as Pitbull read me my rights, then grimly informed me I matched the description of a man who robbed the Casey’s gas station in Sheffield that night. Did I want to explain this? Did I want to tell him anything about it?

Continue reading Forlorn Hope – Part 06: It Can Always Get Worse