Category Archives: Story

The Edge – Chapter 12: Matt the Demo Boi

By Steellock

Matt lay on his bed and thought about how his life had changed over the last few months since he left the Marines to become the Demo Boi at the leather and rubber BDSM store by the harbor.

In some ways the change was total but in others it was strangely similar.

The bed he was lying on was virtually the same; a narrow steel framed bed with a thin, slightly lumpy mattress.

What was different was what he was wearing. Instead of cotton shorts they were made of thick rubber with rubber belts locked around each thick, muscular thigh. A rubber pouch at the front held his cock and balls and it was zipped up each side with padlocks joining them to the thick rubber waist belt. Which was also locked.

At the back his butt was filled with a steel plug behind another locked zip.

Instead of military Commando boots he was always wearing tall, heavy black leather thick soled boots that had 20 tidy tight lines of red lacing up the front. The laces tucked under the top of his red socks that were neatly folded down.

Continue reading The Edge – Chapter 12: Matt the Demo Boi

Never Done This Before – Part 4

By Hotch Rider

The night went on. With every passing minute, my shoulders were aching more. I tried moving them but that limited motion was not helpful. My feet were starting to hurt and they were also cold from the concrete. But the worst part was the space heater. That damn heater. At first the warmth was nice, it relaxed my muscles a bit but now it was just another source of pain. My skin was red and wet. I had been sweating all over and I was thirsty. I could see the sky getting brighter and knew Jack would be in any minute. Those minutes didn’t pass and I really needed some water.

“Jack! Hey Jack! I’m thirsty man. Can I get some water? … Jack? It’s really hot here.” As expected, there was no answer.

“Jack, please! My shoulders hurt. I’m thirsty. Please come!” There was no answer.

“I don’t want to do this anymore, please! I need… I need water Jack. Please!”

Continue reading Never Done This Before – Part 4

Advertisement

By Bikermike

This ad that had appeared in one of the Gay websites intrigued me. It read:

Spend a day with two dungeon masters. No stopwords, no release until the mutually agreed time has elapsed. Play will be at masters’ discretion. For further information email …. Or Mobile…..

I emailed them.

I learned that there would be no charge but I could spend either four or eight hours secured in the masters’ dungeon (which was actually a cellar in their house situated in a leafy part of London). In addition, the reply text went on to emphasise that I would be expected to be a total “sub” and that I would have to agree to anything that the masters would wish to do to me. I also understood that there may or may not be more than one “sub” being used at any one time. I could take it or leave it.

There was an attachment. This was a photo of some of their play and bondage equipment that would be used, but that more equipment may be added and used without prior warning. These included whips, paddles, tawses, canes; a medieval pillory, heavy rigid irons, steel slave collars; ball stretchers with or without spikes and electro equipment, which included a hand cranked generator.

My cock dripped precum as I emailed my reply: I would love to spend four hours as their “sub.”

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Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 06

By PredicamentBondage

Don’t let anyone tell you that life as a slave trader is easy. As with any other business there are challenges and I discovered one of many, very early in my slave trading career.

My clients, as I’ve said, spend a great deal of money with me and expect perfection. Unfortunately, “perfection” is often in the eyes of the beholder and although I always do my best to interpret my client’s briefs, it’s a sad fact that many of the slaves we procure just don’t appeal to the customers. Think about it this way, you can have a pair of twins standing in front of you and, although they are near enough identical, one will always appeal to you more than the other. Every new intake requires client approval before training begins. This way we don’t waste money on training if the client rejects them.

Marco is one such reject. The client ordered an Italian (with accent), early twenties, gym bunny, low BMI, cocky, ladies’ man, the type to play soccer with the lads on the weekend and bang his girlfriend at least twice a day. The cock was specified to be thick and at least 10 inches long when hard. The testes had to be tough and low hanging as the client enjoys ball busting.

Continue reading Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 06

A Festival of Bondage – We Can Make This Happen!

By Steellock

Joe and Adam climbed out of the taxi in the small East Anglian market town and looked at the red brick terraced house. It was Sunday morning of a Bank Holiday weekend and a lot of planning had gone into today.

The house looked like the ones on each side, but today it would be holding a secret inside! They were here for a real festival of bondage; many guys would be gathering to experience that wonderful feeling of giving up the freedom to move around, and in some cases the freedom to move at all!

Joe was here to be the man in charge – to be the Top to all these guys – he did not really know yet how many. Adam was here with his partner, but he was taking part – being in tight bondage was a real love of his and he was already hard at the thought. He had hardly slept at all that night.

Continue reading A Festival of Bondage – We Can Make This Happen!

The Wait

By Steellock

The wait was over!

As a dedicated switch he loved meeting with friends for a few hours; switching roles between top and bottom. Restraining his friends and taunting them with clamps, peg, electrodes; the many and varied toys he had gathered over the last few years. All the while knowing that the boi in his hands would soon be dealing out to him something very similar. It might be the sting of the cane as he was strung up tight to the ceiling or the tap tap tap of the crop on his thigh as he sat, tightly held in his bondage chair.

But soon it would be over. He rarely found a top with the time or the inclination to just restrain him for a long pure session of pure bondage. Imobilised. Zipped and strapped into his sleepsack. Spread-eagled on the bed with leather restraints, chains and padlocks. Securely held in Segufix – perhaps his greatest pleasure. Such tops are either few and far between or expensive!

Continue reading The Wait

Every Dog Has His Day – Part 02

By Thunder

It was an amazing night with Master Jake and my thoughts were conflicted about humanity and dog time and, as he fucked me, I was feeling more and more like a possession, albeit a prized one, with each movement. When Master finished, he left me in place on all fours for a few minutes. I heard the shower running, some drawers opening and closing and finally the light switch indicating he was on his way back. I had known better to move and when he returned he did not say a word before pushing what felt like a telephone pole inside my ass and then hitting the object. I knew I had just been given my first tail and that this would be a moment to treasure.

Master looked me straight in the eyes and asked said, “this is it, you have one last chance to change your mind about spending the next week as my dog, Thunder. You know the rules, the expectations, and it’s all into this one moment when you indicate yes or no. This week you will be allowed more freedom than typical and will use your human voice more, but, even when in that space, know that you are almost a full dog and, within a few months you will be all dog. So, boy, what is your response?” I knew this moment was coming but it still hit me like a brick in that oh so good way. And, really without any real hesitation, I looked right at Master and barked once and quickly jumped off the bed into all fours.

Continue reading Every Dog Has His Day – Part 02

Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 05

By PredicamentBondage

Things are quite leisurely at the training facility with only two slaves in stock. It was wild a few weeks ago because we had eight on the go but, as it is, I feel like I’m on holiday.

Shit-head has been with us a few days now. So far, it’s spent 24 hours isolated in its pod, exercising and learning how to drink from the water dispenser. Following that, it spent the best part of a day hanging in the factory area being broken. Like its peer resident in the next pod (piss-slit), shit-head has also been through its very first training session, lesson one – SPEECH LAW NUMBER 1.

Today, it’s SPEECH LAW NUMBER 2 and shit-head is already in place, eager to begin (I’m sure).

My little brunette fire-plug is standing in one of the classrooms, one foot on each of two large blocks. The blocks are 3 feet apart so its legs are spread wide. Wrists are in 18th century iron shackles and pulled straight up, forcing the slave onto its toes. It still wears the heavy ball stretcher that it’s involuntarily had to endure for several days, making its balls ultra-sensitive and very tender. Around its neck is a shock collar, the remote control handily in my jeans back pocket.

“Good morning shit-head” I say in greeting.

Continue reading Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 05