Category Archives: Story

Tier Four – Part 2

By BoundLongAndHard

BoundLongAndHard speedosSeth affirmatively responded without hesitation. He did want to hear more. He tried to suppress any apprehension about what additional expectations and requirements came with the “higher tiered work.”

Having gone through precisely this discussion with countless young guys before, Creighton loved the combination of ambition and fear that kept them listening without knowing what would be in store for them. He got off on the power this gave him over them. They were so easy to control and manipulate it almost wasn’t challenge any more. And this one seemed especially worthy. He had a superior body and the right attitude. He would fetch a high price and bolster Creighton’s brand.

Creighton began explaining that the additional requirements of tiers 3 and 4 were straight forward, but again, not for everyone. Tier 3 required the sketch model to be hairless from the neck down. Like an uncontrollably excited student who happens to be the smarted kid in the class and raises his hand immediately to broadcast to all that he knows the answer the teacher’s next question, Seth interrupted Creighton to remind him that competitive swimmers – like he had been – shave their bodies before swim meets. Though he hadn’t done that in a while, this wouldn’t be a big deal for him. Offended by the interruption, Creighton disdainfully explained that he wasn’t talking about shaving. That wasn’t good enough for the higher tiered work here. Seth was confused. Did Creighton mean body waxing? Seth had never done that, but he would be willing to try it, perhaps. Seth took care not to interrupt Creighton again and waited for him to explain further.

Continue reading Tier Four – Part 2

Tier Four – Part 1

By BoundLongAndHard

BoundLongAndHard speedosSeth needed money. Well, more accurately, he just want some “walking around” cash so he could continue to socialize with the other college students who never seemed to care about the price of anything. That description fit maybe half the students at the elite New England college they attended. Seth belonged to the other half. His background was middle class. And he and his parents were pretty tapped out just keeping him in this obscenely expensive school. A little extra cash would help.

One day, after sitting through a brain-numbing solid-state physics class, he passed a room that seemed configured for an art class. Outside the door of this studio was an ad seeking male students to pose for a “live art” drawing classes, and most importantly, offering what seemed like an unusually large amount of money for something like this. Seth had no idea what the going rate for “something like this,” but he thought prospect of posing for some art students might even be fun in addition to providing some money.

The ad did warn that preferences would be given to guys in good physical shape, and noted that models could select among “tiers” of semi-nudity and nudity to track their particular comfort level or preference.

Continue reading Tier Four – Part 1

Earn It Pup – Chapter 7

By Pup Shaggy

A firm slap to the side of my face woke me up, my head trying to recoil but held in place firmly. My muffled exclamation, followed fast by groaning and whimpering reminded me of my situation, quickly realising that my entire body was either dead or asleep, tied down for too long and too tightly. Not that I was about to argue. There was a low chuckle over me and a sudden burst of light as the blindfold was removed off my face revealing my captor.

I could only see his chest through the eye holes of my hood; all fuzzy and muscular… it was Alex. I was un-able to turn or lift my head, held down by a belt or chain probably fed through my hood somehow. I couldn’t move an inch. Slowly, Alex’s chin appeared and then his smile. His hand appeared, resting on the nose of my dog-hood giving it a scratch. I couldn’t feel it, but I murred and groaned happily as I watched his fingers dance across the surface of the fabric of the hood.

“Good pup, sorry for bailing out and leaving you here like this.” I looked back at him with a muffled whine. I didn’t care, not in the slightest. I’d whine, whimper and beg but I loved it “I needed to think. About me… About you…” He leant on the table beside me, his hand moving to my forehead. Now this I could feel, faintly sensing his fingers through the hood. His eyes stared at me and I knew there was thought going on behind them. I sensed a question was coming my way, but none came.

Continue reading Earn It Pup – Chapter 7

No Mercenary

By A Lost Boy

You might have questioned my state of mind as I pricked my index finger with a lancet, printing my identity onto a foot-long contract in the passenger seat of a man’s car I’d met via Craigslist.

You might have even pitied me upon reading the terms of agreement in question.

But I can assure you… I was sober within this act & without the haze of lust; in possession of every of my facilities.

Until recently, I was the posterchild for privileged. The kind of guy who wears a tie to smart-casual. An Oxford Alumni, willing to kiss whomever ass required to rise up through the ranks… a real piece of shit in hindsight.

I deserved this, my thoughts declared as I peeped over the first edition document towards the driver with a sinister grin; the sinister grin, I had misread as welcoming. A movie star smile with a twist, carved amongst a sea of hedge-cut facial hair.

I remember admiring the man of forty, a sharp nose; an equally as sharp chin under there somewhere. He donned a full-set of salt & peppered hair, cropped with precision.

“Are you certain?” The man said with words unambiguous as I handed over the parchment.

Continue reading No Mercenary

James – Part 8

By Thunder

NOTE: Apologies for the delay in relaying this part of the story. I made a significant mistake with one of our investments, so my Husband Owner Alan took away my humanity at home for three weeks — which meant I was not able to do anything with my hands, such as type this update.

When Sir Michael was finished with my hair he took the entire $80 and sent me on my way back out to the car to meet Cody where he was waiting. Over the 10 days I had lost a bit of weight and new muscles in my arms and legs from crawling were beginning to show, so that, combined with my new military haircut, got me feeling like I had just won the whole dog show.

It was now around 3:00, and Cody told me that we were making a stop at Todd’s precinct and that he would be taking me for the rest of the day. I so wanted to ask 200 questions but was enjoying not being gagged so I decided to just go with the plans. We soon pulled up at the precinct, and Todd, in his tight glorious uniform, was waiting in the parking lot and quickly ushered me from Cody’s car to his Jeep.

When we were inside the Jeep he said, “Today is your first day of the dual life, and Alan and I agree on the fact that when you are fully clothed and not collared you are James, my friend’s husband with whom I have a dominant friendship. I want you to know how proud of you I have been over the last 10 days, but know that the next few are going to also be unusual in your mind as things settle, but they will settle. Know that.”

Continue reading James – Part 8

Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 18

By PredicamentBondage

Joey is watching himself in the enormous wall-mounted mirror, 10 feet in front of him. It completely covers one wall of the room and reflects every curve and quiver of the stud’s superb musculature.

Our ‘sex-slave-in-training’ is standing on two concrete blocks, six inches by six inches, and twelve inches high, positioned three feet apart. He’s poised on the balls of his feet, nervous about the anal invader that has breached the outer defences to his anal cavity.

The intruder is a long tapered composite granite cone, about 18 inches high and 8 inches diameter at the base. Highly polished, very smooth, it’s truly a beautiful thing; one of my favourite toys. The cone is mounted on a 2 inch thick, solid steel rod, supported by heavy metal brackets fixed between the concrete blocks on which the slave stands.

The rod and cone rest on a pneumatic pump that can raise the cone through its full 18 inch length. For now, however, there is just an inch and a half inside the slave’s tight butt-hole, just enough to stop the victim raising himself off its assailant.

Keeping the slave upright, is a thick metal collar, welded to a horizontal steel pole, firmly mounted to the wall, three feet behind the captive’s neck. No other bondage is necessary, the prey is going nowhere.

Continue reading Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 18

Metalbond introduction to ‘The Exchange & Other Stories’ by Robert Payne

“If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.”

—Henry David Thoreau

The Exchange by Robert PayneThe stories you are about to read were written in an earlier time. In this prehistoric era there was plenty of BDSM-themed kink, but seeking it out was way more challenging than it is today. There was no such thing as a hookup app for your phone. Phones didn’t fit in your pocket back then. They were plugged in to the wall at home, and there were only two kinds: rotary dial and push button. Nobody had a blog or a social media presence.

People were concerned then with many of the same things as today, including the economy, pollution and crime. Because people tended to carry cash on them, there were more burglaries and muggings. No matter where you lived, everyone knew that Times Square was dangerous. Going downtown in any city was dangerous.

But if you were gay and happened to be excited by things like bondage and leather, venturing downtown at some point to try to find a magazine or two might be worth the risk. Growing up before the internet existed made exploring secret fetishes involving kink much more tricky. Before cable TV there were just three channels, and if you wanted to watch something different you had to get up and turn the knob. Every once in a while something listed in TV Guide would be the source of intense interest, such as a television special on Houdini. You might have grown up fascinated by the predicaments that the Caped Crusader and his sidekick found themselves trapped in at the end of almost every episode of Batman (the TV show, not the blockbuster movies of later decades). At the movies, “Cruising” with Al Pacino sure looked interesting — if it was playing in your local theater and you could scare up enough courage to go.

This was definitely before s/m had gone mainstream. And if you did not happen to live in a big city, with leather bars and clubs, your only other outlet was porn, which meant magazines.

Continue reading Metalbond introduction to ‘The Exchange & Other Stories’ by Robert Payne

Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 17

By PredicamentBondage

[[WARNING: This story — and the many chapters that precede it — feature descriptions of extreme elements that some readers might find objectionable. Continue reading at your own risk.]]

Training a sex slave typically takes six months or so. The first three months are spent breaking the subject down, removing all sense of self-worth, taking it to the edge of despair, to create a hollow shell, which can then be moulded into an obedient, compliant servant.

The second three months are spent fashioning the slave’s skill set to the potential owner’s requirements. As the clients vet their purchases, physically, before we even start phase one, when we’re ready to start sex training we can move forward with confidence knowing that the customer will happily accept the product upon completion. We can, therefore, immediately start tailoring the slave to the client’s sexual needs.

These needs are massively diverse, ranging from body modifications, castration, deep-throat training, arse-hole training, foreplay skills, fucking stamina, pain endurance, verbal skills, and so on, and on, and on.

In previous chapters, I’ve explained some of the training techniques employed during the first three months of a slave’s life at the centre. I guess I should also give some insight into how we train our stock sexually.

Continue reading Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 17