Category Archives: Story

Story

Island Master UK – Part 13

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By Wakeysub

Master Green stood up and walked over to the large, panelled wall. He pressed a button and the panel slid back smoothly and silently. Inside was a toy cupboard that would put most speciality gay kink stores to shame. Even from where I was lying, I could see toys and devices to cover just about every known kink and fetish I could think about, and then some that I just couldn’t imagine what they would be used for. He leant into the racking and retrieved a thick leather strap. He doubled it over and smacked it down on his open hand. He seemed to delight in the loud smack it made as it struck his hand.

He smiled down at me as he walked back towards the bed. I couldn’t stop myself staring at his gorgeous body and his bulging jock. I was aching to see what was inside the jock. I needed to pleasure him again. Every part of my body existed solely to give this god of a man pleasure. He stood next to the bed and looked down at my stretched, exposed, vulnerable body lying there.

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Story

A New Colleague — Part 01

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By Suitandbondagelover

Following a departure for a well-deserved retirement, the management informed me of the arrival of a new colleague after the weekend.

It was therefore with surprise and excitement that my boss introduced me to Paul on Monday morning.

Approx 1.95m tall , hair cut very short and from the most beautiful red as I like.

So here I am sitting at my computer with this man in front of me, probably the same age as me.

The rule in society regarding dress code is very strict. Suit, tie and shoes are required. It is also required a clean and fresh shirt every day. As the company sticks to its image, it demands a different suit every day. This is part of the employment contract. The company sets aside a monthly budget for its account managers to purchase new suits, shirts or other shoes.

Shirts and ties are collected on weekends and cleaned at the expense of the company.

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Story

Captured by The Cavalry — Part 02

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By Rubrpig

After my final night at the Barracks with my new commanding officers, my mind was a tumble of images. I got back to my hotel and packed my gear as my flight home was in the morning.

After checking through security and customs, I sat in the departure lounge of Heathrow Terminal 2 waiting for flight to be called on the departure boards. I finally was able to stop and think about what had happened over the previous two weeks and especially what happened the previous night. I grabbed my computer bag and pulled out the folder of documents which I had been given by my Officers after I had signed them. I read through them and the reality of what I had done sunk in like the Captain slamming me in the gut with his favourite weighted gloves.

I had willingly joined the Royal Army specifically the Blues and Royals as a trooper. The papers also included the assignment to the ceremonial unit once basic training was completed. The reality hit me hard and I knew that I had a lot of work to accomplish once I got home. I slumped in my seat and wondered what the future was going to hold.

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Story

Captured by The Cavalry — Part 01

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By Rubrpig

As soon as all of the travel bans and restriction were lifted as the vaccination program had finally been completed which meant the pandemic was finally beaten, I needed to get away from the house where I had been working and living without much human contact since the start of the pandemic and the loss of my Sir to Covid-19.

I decided a trip to London was in order and I smiled thinking about walking through the cool fall weather of England and enjoying myself by reconnecting to the world. As an out and proud Leatherman I wear my hides and boots proudly so I finished making the travel arrangements and packed up my leathers and several pairs of boots.

After checking into my British Airways flight and finally clearing security as my leathers and boots always attract attention. The fact that I have a solid stainless steel chain welded closed around my neck always slows the security inspection down. The man who had put the collar on me had contracted Covid-19 at the hospital where he worked as an ER nurse and had struggled with the disease for 7 weeks before he died while on a ventilator struggling for air. The loss of my Sir devastated me but I managed to come to term with my loss and grief so the trip to London was to honour a promise we had made to each other to visit London.

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Story

Hidden Detention — Part 02

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By Desert Pioneer

“Well, what’s missing from this picture?” thinks Jack. Cowboy Cop doesn’t want me around the rest stop. Could be a drug sale or maybe prostitution. Or could be he’s just an asshole. Rather than pulling out onto the highway Jack circles around the rest stop, up through where the truckers park and back down in the car section. “Well one thing that’s missing is a police car,” Jack notes. He’s either not on official business, or most likely not a cop at all.

As he circles around back into the truck parking Jack notices one of the truckers walking towards but not to the men’s room. Jack backs his car into the most remote upper space of the truck parking and turns off the engine. Really tough to see where this guy is headed to, perhaps the wooded area behind the stop.

“OK, this is what fantasy is all about,” Jack figures. Trucker headed to the woods and some dress-up cop protecting the area. Yeah out here in red neck back country; most likely to be a gun club or maybe poker, drinking and cigars. Jack gets out of his car and moves around the edge of the rest area trying to position himself for a deeper look into the woody area behind the men’s room. He stations himself leaning on a tree a bit behind the men’s room and barely makes out a path leading into the woods.

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Story

Hidden Detention — Part 01

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By Desert Pioneer

Thursday 9PM, driving north on SH-99 Jack is getting tired. Looking for something to occupy his mind on this crazy lonesome drive Jack fantasizes about maybe pulling into a rest stop. Not a too busy rest stop, a few cars and a few trucks, on a not so major highway. The trucks are silent and cool, like they are there for a while. The men’s room has a single bulb light over the door and no traffic in or out of the door. Stuff that a fantasy is made of.

Jack’s black roadster pulls into the middle of the stop with a full view of the men’s room door. He waits and thinks about what he might run into in the restroom. Cutting his thoughts against reality he considers that this is interior northern California; not a liberal in your face queer community, but likely full of red necks who are hot in fantasy but pretty dull, and sometimes dangerous, in reality.

“What a shitty fantasy” he thinks. It comes from his angle of keeping fantasy close to his reality which, in Jack’s mind, pulls it more toward possibility. Unfortunately, the reality that serves as his base, ain’t all that. He’s had a few encounters that introduced fetishes.   Yet google “fetish” and get a list hundreds long. So that’s all Jack; on the low side of fetish experience and a big bucket list containing things (1) that he has done, (2) he has fantasized about, and (3) stuff that he hasn’t even thought of yet. Of course, the big one that all bottom’s have; being used by a man, a stranger, for his calling of that man, regardless of any service to the bottom. Fear of strangers stoked Jack from head to toe.

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Story

The Prisoner Fantasy

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By Nick Ensign

I should have recognized him for what he was the moment I laid eyes on him. But you know how it is when a man — any man who fits your ‘type’ perfectly — can knock the sense right out of you. I was at Starbucks, catching up on some emails and Facebook messages, when he walked in with a few of his friends. His hair was cut back into a short flattop, maybe the sexiest haircut a man can wear, and his moustache was thick, dark, but not overgrown.

His companions sported short haircuts as well but didn’t catch my eye in the same way. One had upper arms so thick they stretched the hems of his sleeves, but the man I was eying had only a normal physique — that is, strong and hard but not over- or under-sized anywhere.

I should have folded my laptop at that point because I could no longer concentrate on my writing. I tried, but every few seconds my eyes darted furtively back to the flattop-ped man. I could see him generally eying the other patrons as well, and once or twice we locked eyes briefly with me flicking past as soon as I could as if I were only looking casually about the room.

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Story

Hotel Hot Tub

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By ty dehner

ty dehnerAfter an afternoon of sightseeing in San Diego, I returned to my hotel in Oceanside, California. A block off the beach, my room on the fifth floor had a great view of the ocean and one of the longest piers on the California coast. With all the walking I had done I favored some time enjoying the hot turbulent waters of the hot tub. So, I slipped on my bathing suit and headed up to the rooftop where the swimming pool and hot tub were located. When I stepped out onto the patio, the view was impressive with a glass wall around the top floor so the vistas would not be spoiled. I was also glad to find no one using the facilities so I had it all to myself. Since it was late afternoon and, on a Friday, most people would only be checking in or busy with other activities.

Since towels were provided, I grabbed one placing it on a chaise lounge that was near the hot tub. I took off my t-shirt folding and placing it on the towel, with my cell phone and key card under the towel. I had a second key card that I always had just in case, in the pocket of my bathing suit. Making my way to the inviting water, I took in the ocean surf as it was rolling on the sand on the beach. The sun was starting its downwards drop to the horizon.

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