Ken Keavey dropped his keys on the table and his duffle on the floor. He was tired but he felt great. He was back from his friend Dmitri’s house and one of the most intense bondage scenes he’d ever experienced. He felt like he had plumbed new depths of subspace. Even now, thinking back on it brought his hand to his crotch. The total immobilization in The Chair, the sensory deprivation and overload, the control of all his most sensitive areas… he was practically ready to do it all again.
But after such an intense experience, what he really wanted to do was to chill. He decided he’d clean off his gear and put it away later and headed into his living room to watch some |||
With a satisfied sigh, Keavey folded up his polishing cloth and set it down. His catsuit was hanging in the shower with a mirror-like shine. All the rest of his gear was cleaned up and properly stowed. After a job well done, he felt ready to chill. He decided to grab a snack before checking out the porn on his Twitter |||
Keavey nudged the last bit of cereal down the drain, turned off the disposal and shut off the tap. Another job well done. He looked into his pantry for something to snack on, but stuff seems to be missing. What happened to his Wheaty Snax or that half-finished bag of cookies from Merchant Pete’s? He felt simultaneous pangs of hunger and dissatisfaction with himself, like he did every night. He’d been meaning to make changes to his diet for some time now, since he’d put on some unwanted pounds; but every night the craving for something sugary caused him to put off his self-discipline for another day.
Continue reading And Then It Woke Up
Sam and I go way back, we’ve been buddies since grade school. Played baseball since little league, and since high school I’ve been a pitcher and he’s been my catcher. Yup it’s a cliche, go ahead and make all the pitcher/catcher jokes you want. I’ve heard them all, and I’ll admit there’s something special about our relationship. Sure, we’re good bros off the field. No homo though, we’re both straight. On the field though, is where the magic really happens. We share a mind, and think the same. Sam doesn’t even have to give me signs, just a look, and whatever pitch I throw is always right. When we’re playing, the games are quick, and victory is usually ours. Well, it depends on if our team can hit the damn ball, but at least the bullpen is always solid.
Like I said, Sam and I are both straight. I’ve enjoyed the girls I’ve dated very much. That said, I could definitely turn gay for him. Girls get clingy and whiny, and I know I’m more of a man’s man. Sam, being my buddy and all, I could spend my life with him playing baseball, camping, etc. There was a stretch in college when I was sidelined because I’d thrown my arm out. Watching him catch for another pitcher… I got so damn envious. My first game back, we proved just how good we were together. The game went by, every batter would come up to the plate. Sam flashed a smile, and flipped me the bird. I shook my head once. He stuck his tongue out. Fucker. I gave him a fastball.
“Strike!” The umpire called. The batter headed away from the plate, muttering to himself dejectedly.
Continue reading A Pitcher and His Catcher
By Pup Shaggy
After closing the door again and locking the van, Hunter pulled him to his feet dragging him inside. Spencer watched as the van disappeared into the darkness, the first time he’d actually seen it. He kept trying to get to his feet, trying slowly to catch up, but bare feet on stony ground past midnight is not a cup of tea, even without someone pulling you along. Hunter dragged him inside, the heels of his feet dragging behind him, lifting him up the step of the doorway. He was met with a gush of warm air that made him shiver as the luna night turned to electric-light. The open front door passed them as they entered, swinging closed, closing them off from the outside. A picture passed on the right of a family, Hunter distinctly standing in the middle wearing sane clothes. Plain simple shoes lined up on their left. So this was Hunters house?
God knows what you had to pay for a place like this. Saying that, he didn’t see much of the house itself. He was lead directly to a door that looked suspiciously like a cupboard only with a combination padlock.… Once open, they were met with descending stairs and a deep gloom that only comes from being under-ground. They started descending into the basement. Light made way to darkness again as they moved, only now it was a deeper and darker kind of darkness, quickly coming to a halt at the bottom of the stairs to another door, only this one had no lock. Once open, they entered a grey concrete room, the first room he’d seen. It was empty apart from the odd wooden beam supporting the ceiling and the house above them. The room was largely empty except for a bare iron frame bed with a stained mattress, a basic chair and a small cage. All lit by a single bulb that dangled dimly from the ceiling. The room smelled new though, retaining that distinct paint smell.
Continue reading The Debt – Part 5
“If you can sleep at all, we should try to doze off for a while,” Matt suggested.
I nodded my head in agreement and looked straight up at the evening sky. It was a nice night out. I closed my eyes and drifted off to a fitful sleep.
There was a shooting pain to my balls that woke me up unexpectedly. I yelled loud enough to startle Matt spread out next to me. When I gained my composure I saw Daniel standing over me with his boot on the rope leading from my balls to the stake. He was looking directly down at me. He placed his full weight onto the rope again pressing it down into the dirt and eliciting another scream from me as the rope pulled on my balls.
It was still dark out. I had no idea what time it could be or how soon before the sunrise would take place. My shoulders were on fire from being stretched and my balls were aching from the abuse Daniel was inflicting.
“That’s enough,” I heard Matt say to Daniel.
Continue reading 10 Days in Detention – Part 27
Chapter 10 – The Order
The dungeon music fades out as I am lowered down the hole between the upper floor and the lower floor. All that’s left for me to hear is the clanking of the chain lowering my rope-bound body, and the jackhammering of my heart.
After everything I’ve been through tonight and all the men I’ve served so far, I can hardly believe there’s more. As I descend below the ceiling into the room full of men, I realize I’m not blindfolded, gagged, or plugged. Whatever is coming next, I have to face it with eyes, and mouth, and ass wide open.
I’ve been lowered into a room that is empty but for the men inside of it. I count twenty-four. On one end stands all of the doms I’ve met tonight. Many more stand in between them and six slaves on the other end, all in full rubber suits- no hoods this time. I see Trevor among them.
And in the middle is Master Shephard. He’s wearing the grin I find so irresistible, and as he strokes his cock at the sight of me trussed up and floating vulnerably, I see him bite his lip and close his eyes as he holds back an orgasm. He’s close- I realize everyone is stroking themselves, even the slaves. And it looks like everyone is as close as he is.
Continue reading The Story of Dax – Chapter 10
Before he leaves, Trevor locks the end of my armbinder to a ring on the floor, then shackles my legs together, and locks those to the ring too. He walks out wordlessly, leaving me in a puddle of his piss, moaning uncontrollably as I lay on my side in a strict hogtie. And then nobody else comes. I don’t hear anything except a drip of water from somewhere, echoing loudly into the space I’m in.
I think back to my lengthy sleepsack scene with Master Shephard. He told me that he was leaving me plenty of slack so that I could last, but I even thought that was tight. Now I realize that if this is the standard for tight bondage, the amount of wiggle room I had that night was in fact, comparative freedom. I long for it, for even the tiniest amount of purchase, for the ability to flex my arms even slightly, to be able to make any sound at all other than a pathetic, gagging, drooly sob.
As the minutes pass and my eyes continue to adjust to the dim light, I suddenly realize that there’s a mirror on the ceiling above me. I look up at it and see the gimp I’ve been turned into. Even alone, I’m humiliated. Vega was right, I thought I was some kind of a hot-shot, and I got put in my place.
Continue reading The Story of Dax – Chapter 09
Extracting Prince’s load takes me hardly any time. I can take the full length of it- I can take the full length of anyone- and he’s obviously already close after watching Omni and Zephyr do me over. And, judging by the size of his load, it’s probably been a couple days since he’s let one loose. I’m surprised by that- he doesn’t seem like someone who ever has a need that isn’t met. Either way, I’m proud of my work, and Prince seems pleased, too. I remain on my knees, kneeling in front of him, waiting for my next order.
He raises his booted foot, presses it against my chest, and with one strong movement of his legs I sprawl against the floor. Ouch. OK, then.
“Stay there,” he commands, and then I hear footsteps, the door creak open and shut, and then nothing at all. I’m left staring at the ceiling, the taste of come on my lips. Taking advantage of the first rest I’ve had in hours, I close my eyes, and focus on the throbbing and the warmth still radiating off my body from its beating.
Continue reading The Story of Dax – Chapter 08
Hooded, with my arms shackled behind my back and a short chain hobbling my steps, it’s difficult for me not to stumble as I’m pulled behind Prince through the dungeon. His stride indicates that he is not worried about my ability to keep up, though, and I somehow manage to, though I bump into a few walls and at least one person- Omni, based on the stream of humiliating words barked at me after- before we stop.
I feel a pair of hands go for each of my legs- strapping on kneepads- thick, heavily padded ones, suggesting what’s to come. After they are securely strapped on, whoever attached them to me kick the back of my knees in synchrony- knocking me down and onto the floor, where other than the shock of the fall I suffer no damage.
The large gag is yanked out of my mouth, and I grunt in relief, taking in a few deep breaths and swallowing in some of the overflow of saliva.
“My name is Prince,” he says imperiously. “You may address me as ‘My Lord’ or ‘Your Highness.’
Continue reading The Story of Dax – Chapter 07