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Story

The First Load Up

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By SlickChaser

At some point, 27 and dumb, I realized dating wasn’t my thing. I didn’t care for girls, guys or both in a long term relationship in terms of life goals like buying a house, having kids or going above and beyond to look impressive to social media. I did want to experience some levels lf BDSM without the same commitments. Some dabble in one location with a munch group eventually lead to some dabbling with a bi-man (called “Gerry” for this story) after moving to a new location and job.

Gerry responded to some posted messages on a FetLife board post with my new local munch. Over time, I would visit and the order of operation was pretty simple; he would use some bondage gear and his setup mini-dungeon in the 2nd bedroom of his condo while I had to provide something everytime to help elevate the experience. Week one it was a ball gag head harness; week two a zipper PVC hood with only nostril and mouth opening; week three a collar he recommended; week four a new set of leather cuffs; week five a leather chest harness and butt plug harness with various sizes butt plugs. It was week five when the experience became a two sided affair, quite literally.

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Story

My Trip to Jail

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By CellShocked

Hampton Jail in IowaUsually, it’s the decisions that I make quickly and then act upon them that are my best decisions.  This telling will emphasize how a recent weekend (09/10/21 – 9/13/21) will have forever changed my life.

I live in an area that is not completely rural but doesn’t have much going on either.  I live right off of an interstate and can be in Boston in a couple hours, NYC is a 5-hour bus ride away, Manchester airport is an hour and a half away, so I can get to places.  But where would I go?  I absolutely hate going somewhere alone.  Now don’t misunderstand, I can travel alone but it’s the destination.  I need someone to force me to do new things.  I am so passive that I have let the world pass me by for the past 45 years.  I failed to take risks and really take that leap of faith.  The only way I can rationalize it is that anxiety and depression have owned my emotions all of my life.

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Story

A Barber Story

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By John Mercer

It was a warm summer afternoon, and I decided to get a haircut right after work.

I left my office just after five and started to walk the short distance to my regular barbershop. Along the way, I saw a new barbershop I hadn’t seen before. It had a sign on the pavement out in front, which read:

“Haircuts £10. Hot towel shave £15. Full treatment £20.”

I thought, what the hell. I may as well try a new place- at that price it’s hard to refuse.

I opened the door and stepped inside. Immediately my senses were awash with the sounds and scents of barbering- the aroma of lemon cologne, the faint hint of barbicide, the buzz of clippers and the clicking of scissors.

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Story

Getting Wet

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By bootboy

bootboyDon’t really know how I ended up where I did. Sometimes I think i’m crazy to stay here, and other times I think i’m just where I should be. I didn’t plan this: I just sort of slid into it. Not even sure how much further into slavery I can slide. Maybe tomorrow i’ll decide to call it quits, but I might just decide to stay put and ride it out. Kind of surprised how far i’ve gone. It just didn’t happen by accident though, I think it’s a bit like a storm. You can sense that one is approaching, seeing the clouds gathering and all, and you can either head inside and batten down the hatches or you can stay out in the thick of it. I guess I don’t know enough to come in out of the rain but I like splashing around and getting wet.

If anyone looked in through the window and saw me here; shaved from head to toe, my hands locked behind my back with wrist restraints, collared and hitched to the post of a loft bed, i’m sure that they would think I was crazy. But when I look out and see how most people live, to me, they are the ones who seem crazy: or worse.

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Story

Full Time Work During Covid-19

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By Harry Hess

I had read that good paying jobs were hard to find in certain areas of the country, but around where I lived there was lots of industrial, boating industry, and assembly factory work all rewinding their engines for ever greater numbers of workers in the factories.  Some were even waiving the G.E.D or high school diploma requirement.  While they all paid well, the only problem with most was the human-closeness of the workspace made it frighteningly easy to catch the Pandemic Covid-19.  As I read the local want ads one stood out.

Local workers needed for work on Anti-Covid-19 Protective work gear. Several levels of protection gear available and several pay levels offered. The MOST protective gear will require the most rigorous testing AND we will pay more for these harder jobs.

I decided to apply for the “high” protection suit, as the pay was really good and it seemed to be a safest bet in these troubled times.  The line was quite long when I got in the parking lot, and I almost decided to drive on to a different company.  I, however, had nothing better to do than waste a day standing in a growing employment line.  The line seemed to move in a start and stop fashion which I later learned was because they were showing each group the suits they were working on and answering questions.

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Story

The Kidnapper

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By Kidnappedboi

Author’s Note: This story is a work of fiction, but is inspired by the work of a fantastic Dominant Top based on the South Coast of England, JamesbondageSX. This story is rooted in fantasy, and both SIR and i believe in explicit and enthusiastic consent in all aspects of kink and sex.

To reflect my submission to SIR, all pronouns relating to me are in lower case, all referring to SIR in upper case.

CHAPTER ONE

“WANTED: KIDNAP VICTIMS”

The profile blurb almost said it all – unlike so many other profiles on Recon, this one didn’t bother with excessive text, or even too many pictures. Instead, it got straight to the point with a list.

“ME:

  • Experienced Kidnapper
  • Superior Being
  • Brutal Skinhead
  • Your Worst Nightmare

Victims:

  • inferior fag trash
  • worthless bootlickers
  • warm fleshlights
  • future gimps and prisoners

If you meet My expectations, expect to be abducted, abused, and disposed of. Tears are non-negotiable. Suffering guaranteed.

SIR”

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Story

Keith and slave – Part 01

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Written by CathGear on recon

Creatively inspired, while wearing a catheter.

This story is a work of fiction. While most of the acts are possible, long-term effects from any one action could affect quality of life in the future of such a person.

Enjoy

***

I have always felt like I should serve someone. But until I met Keith, I was lost on the internet of life, just going from one play date, to another. Don’t get me wrong. I have/had boyfriends. But they were never ones that wanted to control my life. But, things are different with Keith. Have mostly a routine in the house. He does mix it up from time to time. But that is good in a relationship.

We started out, like most of my relationships, with an ad on the internet and a play date. I came over and he tied me up, fucked me, and made me suck on his cock till I took it down his load down my throat. We talked for a while, and I noticed that he wasn’t a very good housekeeper. I asked him if he wanted me to come over once a week and tidy things up a bit. No pay, just to see him, and maybe have some play, while I was there.

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Story

Mistakes in the Military

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By slavesoldier

It’s a little after noon on a hot sunny day and the sun is streaming in through a window above me in the cafeteria. I’m sitting on a bench at a table with a plate of food in front of me waiting for the order to eat. Others are still gathering their food and taking their seats, marching in a prescribed orderly fashion. The food isn’t all that appetizing but I’m starving, it’s been a hard day so far.

Sitting, in this unit, means sitting on the front 2 inches of the bench, feet together flat on the ground with knees at 90 degrees and together. Upper body is erect and rigid with back straight, chest out and stomached sucked in as much as possible. Head is level with eyes staring straight ahead, no expression is allowed. Hands are placed on knees. It’s a position of attention from which no deviation is allowed.

We live by a strict code of discipline and are never without orders or expectations. We are expected to be the absolute best. Best in training, best in physical condition, best in drill and best in appearance so that presumably, we’ll be the best in combat. The consequence for even the slightest mistake can be brutal and the grip that the commander has on this unit means that what happens in the unit stays in the unit. The unit performs, he gets rewarded and we do as ordered. We all genuinely fear this man and wouldn’t dare cross him, even when his methods of enforcing the code of discipline exceed what is authorized by regulation.

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