All posts by Taurus

One Year – Part 02

By Taurus

Part 2 – “The Move”

James did not leave his house for three days. All he would do was eat simple microwavable meals he had delivered to his house a while back and simply roleplay as a slave.

He would turn up his speakers to play some music, while knelt in a corner of the carpet, gagged, plugged and with his hands behind his back.

He would imagine himself at a party. A chic cocktail party where everyone was rich enough to buy the high fashion clothes they were wearing on a whim.

Maybe rich enough to buy him too, which might fit the colour palette of some elegant flooring scheme of walnut and a tan wool carpet.

Of course, he would have to stay off of the carpet. Realizing this, he moved off onto the hard floor.

Bad slave, he reprimanded himself.

He closed his eyes.

What would this party look like?

Smell like?

Feel like?

The lights were dimmed and there was mood lighting.

Continue reading One Year – Part 02

One Year – Part 01

By Taurus

Part 1 – “Yours Most Sincerely”

James sat naked in his living room, a gown to his side. The endless expanse of the Pacific Ocean sprawled out in front of him, accompanied by little more than an idyllic blue sky and a mild scattering of a few clouds here and there – a gently moving fresco on his wall, framed by a window two floors tall.

Still, this extravagant ornament of an ocean was something he had seen every day in the years he had owned this mansion of his. In his defence, nothing on this planet is worthy of gawking at for a million times.

He had passed his duties to an interim CEO who would take his place at the helm of his company for 18 months.

So, what next?

Nothing. Nothingness is next.

Absolute emptiness.

Continue reading One Year – Part 01

Teddy Bear – Part 04

By Taurus

Teddy Bear in a Toy Box

The other day, Master told me he’d invited someone over to play for a week. I asked him about it, but he never disclosed any more information than the fact that he was a male sub.

…I think I already know that Master is gay.

In all seriousness though, I felt really happy for him. Master has been trapped with me for a long time. Even though he says he loves me all the time, I’m sure at some point he gets burnt out and needs some space.

When the visitor arrived, Master led me in my best outfit to the door to meet him. I wore the beefiest shackles with the heaviest chains and the biggest plug I could keep in my ass. He put a leather harness on me, something which he saves for special occasions. Even my hair got the same special treatment. Master went to town on my beard and chest hair with a hairbrush to fluff it up.

And here I was, restrained in as much bondage as I could be in while still being able to move around, and with a beard like a dark brown cloud. I adore this look, and if we’re receiving guests I might as well show up at my best – in Master’s design. I was missing nipple clamps maybe, but that could make my chest look cluttered, so I’ll pass. For the last touch, Master fastened on a small red ball gag, pulled very tightly to put a dent in my beard. The red ball sank into my mouth, giving a contrasting but complimentary dash of colour to my dark brown hair.

Continue reading Teddy Bear – Part 04

Towel

By Taurus

Everyone has a reason to keep a slave. I’m kept as one by Master. He calls me a towel.

Please let me explain.

My parents were Scandinavian, but they moved to the US before they gave birth to me. Scandinavians are famously hairy (or so I think, since my dad was quite the fuzzball), hence why my body hair was the target of teasing for many years in high school. I tried to hide it by wearing long sleeves and changing quickly for gym, but that didn’t work, obviously.

This shame didn’t last long, fortunately. Behind people’s backs, I’d read through magazines and I’d be amazed at how many people lust for hairy bodies.

When I got into college, I decided to embrace the bearishness and sport a (very thin, compared to now) beard, I pretty much had the hair of someone more than double my age back then. My dorm mate noticed, and word quickly spread about me being a bear. To this day, I’m still nicknamed a bear by my friends, though it’s more a term of affection, and not of ridicule or for categorization.

Do Vikings hunt bears? If so, I hope my ancestors don’t try to kill me. Either meaning of “bear” applies, wink wink.

Continue reading Towel

Teddy Bear – Part 03

By Taurus

Teddy Bear Wants a Snack

Alec is a good slave. This is NOT up for debate.

When I give him orders, he follows them flawlessly. Regardless of what I do to him, he seems to be able to take it in stride.

When we have down time together, he naps, cradled in my arms. The time displayed on the clock no longer provides context to my life; minutes, hours, days lose meaning.

Moments aggregate in stealth and clump into a whole afternoon. My heart melts to goo, and my body feels like floating. Before I know it, I mirror his smile on my face, and scratch his irresistible beard in bliss.

Then he laughs gently, and I stop thinking. Whatever work I set out to do, however crucial, then becomes inconsequential.

Continue reading Teddy Bear – Part 03

Teddy Bear – Part 02

By Taurus

Teddy Bear on a Leash

My present name is Alec, and I am an owned slave. As I understand, Master has written an entry for the Prison Library, from which he finds lots of inspiration to torment me. He suggested that I entertain myself with reading “Teddy Bear” (which he wrote) and possibly writing an entry of my own.

So here I am doing just that while leashed to Master’s desk. Before anyone asks, I am writing this on a laptop on the floor, I am currently wearing a bit gag with my limbs chained, ass plugged, and cock caged. No clothes, of course – Master made the rule. If I go on other sites, Master can easily see me doing it anyway, and my life would get triple as hard, so I won’t. He does let me search for facts, though.

No need for concern for my jaws. If I find my jaw seizing up, I am allowed to take the gag from my mouth and loosen it to hang it around my neck, like another collar, for 15 minutes before I wear it again. Master trusts me to keep the gag in as long as possible, and that I do. I love to feel the sudden absence of beard hair when I’m nuzzling things and it makes me feel more comfortable, as it reminds me that Master is taking care of me.

Truth be told, my training was described in adequate detail in “Teddy Bear” – after all, it’s fairly generic; rewards for doing well, penalties for doing poorly. This is the base of all training philosophies, even for animals and slaves. Really, if even this slave understands “finger your prostate and you get flogged”, I’m sure everyone can get the hang of it. This isn’t trying to explain philosophy for events in life or complex, elaborate metaphors, which I definitely can’t.

Continue reading Teddy Bear – Part 02

Teddy Bear – Part 01

By Taurus

I don’t care what people say about subs, about how they should be smooth from head to toe, or about how they should be kept in rubber with a hood on. To each their own, I guess.

I’m a little different. I like hair. Thick, fluffy beard and haircut, plus a whole body of unadulterated hair, but no points are taken off if bald. Lots of added points if muscular, if they know how to curl up to make themselves look like giant yarn balls in a cage, and if they can wear gags for a long time. I love seeing the dent in their beard from a ball gag that seems to sink into their mouth, and I love having as much of their skin exposed as possible.

I haven’t found many of these boys to play with on the regular, and long-term. More accurately, I’ve found one, and I’ve stopped searching for more. Now, reader, you might consider this a shame, but factor in how I pour my emotions into subs like a little kid talking to their teddy bear which is their vessel of emotion, it saves me from heartbreak and I can focus all my efforts on just one sub, who I can trust to have my back. Of course, I do play with other subs, just that I have one who will always be the main project, so to speak.

Continue reading Teddy Bear – Part 01