All posts by slavebladeboi

The Examination – Part 3

By Slavebladeboi

I had my fingers hovering over the buttons that would cause yet another howl from behind the gag but as I was concentrating so hard on the boy strapped in the chair I missed several times when I should have pressed them. Now the room was filled with several different but similar sounds. There was the sound track from the video. The Master’s deep bellowing laugh, the virtual slave’s screaming “please Sir, No NOOO, arrrghhh, please, please no more Sir aaaaaaahhhgggh, I’m sorry Sir, Pleaaaaarrrrrrrrhh” every time the cattle prod hovered menacingly over his torso, playing with the boy, dancing up and down his abs and stopping over his vulnerable cock tied as it was to the top bars of the cage. Every time the sound track screamed,

Zero gabbled and made screaming noises that echoed the virtual replay. He appeared to be totally taken up with what he saw, his arms flailing, his head shaking more than that collar should allow. His gloves on the screen were trying to box away the cattle prod from the slave’s body instead of pushing the red or green areas. I shocked him for not recognising that the slave should not plead with a Master but should take what he was given however it didn’t seem to have any effect other than make him grimace, howl and flex his body.

Continue reading The Examination – Part 3

The Examination – Part 2

By Slavebladeboi

“According to my notes your Master calls you Zero, is that correct?”

“That and other things.”


“Zilch, nada, zip, nix, shit head, … anything meaning nothing really.”

“We’ll stick to Zero here then. OK Zero. You’re here for a bit of re education. It can take as long as I want it to. I fill in the forms so if I don’t think you’ve reached your goal then you haven’t. I can make it as short or as long a process as I like. Let’s see how we get on.”

He looked in front of him without any expression.

“Mind you, it’s not all thumb screws and whips. It could be of course” I laughed quietly to myself remembering an incident last week, “but not necessarily. With you I‘ve decided to start somewhere else.”

I unlocked the base of his chair and swivelled it round 180 degrees so he was facing my work bench rather than the mirror wall.

“You see I have a range of items, whips, floggers, hoods, gags, irons to fit all manner of places on your body, clamps, chains, ropes, just to name the first shelf. However, with you perhaps we should try and find the problem you have with your position as slave.”

Continue reading The Examination – Part 2

The Examination – Part 1

By slavebladeboi

I looked through the one way glass as they wheeled him in. He looked about 19, fit, tanned, 5 10 or so, short jet black hair with eyes to die for. Well he wouldn’t actually have to die for them. I’d already been ordered to get everything I wanted out of him, but alive this time.

Oh well.

The three goons that dragged him into my “Initial Examination Room” as I liked to call it, so much nicer than “torture chamber”, were typical types. Heavy, muscled, hairy bears, none of them under 6’3” and wearing the uniform for their jobs in this wing, leather leggings and boots with heavy rubber aprons and bibs. Sometimes they wore fingerless studded gloves too but these were not uniform, just impressive.

Continue reading The Examination – Part 1

Doug’s Machine

By slavebladeboi

“C’mon, strip!”

“Aw, not again, Doug.”

“Yeah. You know the plan. I make them, you try them.”

My partner for the last three years was Doug. He was an ‘artist in metal,’ at least that’s what his internet site says. In fact he makes the most amazing and clever metal bondage items to order or off the shelf that anyone can imagine. As his partner, I get to try them out to see if there are any rough edges or something that looks good on paper is simply an arse to get on or into.

“OK, but I was in the middle of your new ad for the site.”

“That’s fine, you’ll get plenty of time before Monday.”

My day job in IT brought in the regular money, while his skill brought in shed loads at times and nothing for the rest of the year.

“C’mon, strip here and get over into the workshop. You’ll be amazed.”

I usually was, it’s true. I heard him welding, sawing and hammering for the past few days, sometimes until midnight or more. Whatever was there now must be a real work of art.

Continue reading Doug’s Machine

The Wall – Part 03

By Slavebladeboi

So who was he then?


For fuck’s sake, you know who. The “who” you were waving goodbye to out there. The “who” in the red sports car. The red sports car I told you about. The same red sports car …..


I’ve had this. Were you in on it all the time?

He looked at his partner, he felt hot, sick and tearful. His partner sat.

You like bondage?

You bloody know I do.

You like being fucked?

Where’re you going with all this?

Just answer me.

OK! Yes I frigging do.

And you enjoyed your dream?

I wasn’t a dream, we both know it and now I know you’ve been…

OK Yes. I did it for you.


Continue reading The Wall – Part 03

The Wall – Part 02

By slavebladeboi

They walked back to their apartment together. Like most 19-year-olds he was used to feeling confident. Confident about his sexuality, his life choices and his future, but this evening he felt none of those things. He wanted an arm round his shoulder and a protective embrace from his partner for no other reason but to feel him there. He asked for both and got them with no hesitation albeit a question.

“Is something wrong man?”

“No, it’s just, well…. No nothing.”

“Come on, open up, I’ve seen that look before, always when you want me to agree to something you don’t think I’m gonna like.”

“Those marks. The ones on my wrists, I don’t know how they got there. Or rather I do, but I don’t.”

“Well thanks for making sense, you sure you’re feeling ok?”

He pulled away from the comforting arm and faced the other, slightly taller man.

“Yes. I’m fine. I think. Let’s get indoors.”

They had reached the steps leading up to the front door of their building, slid the key in the lock and went into the elevator. Once inside their apartment he fell onto the couch and sighed.


“OK. Just hear me out. I know this will sound strange but go with me for a while here.”

His partner sat opposite him and leaned forward. The story came out in one long unbroken monologue. All the details, the guy, the car, the wall, the fucking and waking up in the bar.

Continue reading The Wall – Part 02

The Wall – Part 01

By slavebladeboi

He opened his eyes. The rough stone wall, about 4 inches from his nose, was blurred. Licking his dry lips, he moved away, but panic gripped his gut like a vice.

He couldn’t move.

The shock seemed to bring all his senses to life at once. And that’s when he felt what was holding him upright, rigid almost. He tried to move his head but could only do so a fraction. Straining his eyes downwards, he saw the steel bracket that held the collar that he now realised was round his neck, keeping his head so close to the brickwork.

He pulled at his arms. They were locked in position, about 45 degrees below the horizontal and stretched out just enough for him to feel the manacles bite into the backs of his hands, again the same distance from the wall. His elbows too were encased in an unforgiving metal bond.

He was standing straight, his knees held locked, metal tubes about 6 inches long grasped them and forbade them from bending even slightly, his ankles the same distance from the wall locked in position, his feet turned outwards to accommodate that fact.

His fear overcame his senses. He cried out, he yelled. Nothing but a hollow echo returned.

Continue reading The Wall – Part 01


By slavebladeboi

Adam smelled the coffee brewing and very soon heard it coming, or rather heard his slave bringing it. The heavy steel chain between Ben’s ankles dragged slowly across the wooden floor as he brought the tray into the room.

Adam pointed to the table next to his recliner and carried on reading. It took several seconds for him to realise something wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t something he heard, it was something he didn’t hear. He didn’t hear the sound of the chain being dragged back to the kitchen.


I’m sorry Adam.

What? Something clutched at Adam’s stomach. For the past 9 months he’d been either Master or Sir, never Adam.

Continue reading Choices