Category Archives: Story

Story

James — 2019 Review

12 Comments

By Thunder

Note: This is the continuation of a long-running story by Thunder. To start at the very beginning, click for James — Part 1. And also see Metalbond Q&A: Thunder

Master Alan pointed out to me this morning that it’s been almost a full year since we have updated you on my training and life as his human dog and thought it would be a good thing for me to come sit and write about the last year. When he said this, I realized so much just feels natural that it’s often not too often I think to document it now.

Last year I wrote about our New Year’s parties and we are currently in heavy planning for those coming up next week. I have not been told if I will be allowed to attend the employee one this year (last year I was caged in the closet) but know I will be at the family and friend’s one diligently looking for scraps on the floor from my all fours position. It was a warm Christmas here in Atlanta, so Master was very excited that I did not have to dress and could stay naked on all fours throughout the day, including two of the holiday parties we attended.

Both of them have private driveways so I was in full dog mode from the minute he left me out of the tailgate of the SUV. I am lucky that he lets me dress and ride in the backseat as a human, but this year he bought a BMW X7 with a big hatch area, so, when in the proper place I now “transform” in the back seat and exit from the hatch. It’s been an adjustment getting my old body to make that jump!

Continue reading James — 2019 Review →

Story

Borstal Boys

2 Comments

By Bikermike

Nick and Trev often met at the bikers’ cafe to exchange general bike talk, or more often than not, a talk about their sexual adventures. These included tales and anecdotes concerning their experiences and desires in the world of male-to-male bondage and sadomasochism. They had experimented together on a few occasions; once or twice within a group of three or more men. However, Trev had a regular BDSM ‘partner’, whom he called Roger and sometimes referred to him as his Master, while Nick had to make do with whoever he could find on Recon and who also lived within a reasonable distance.

One hot day during the summer both men met at the cafe and spent several minutes ogling other male bikers, some of which were posing minus their leather bike jackets and T shirts exposing their muscled torsos. Nick said ‘I sometimes fantasise about life in a borstal; y’know, how it was several decades ago when the gaolers wouldn’t hesitate using canes and the birch to maintain discipline. I have read accounts of boys who had been birched and abused, which have really turned me on. Wouldn’t it be great if you and I could somehow live that fantasy for a weekend? Punishment and birching and all?’

Continue reading Borstal Boys →

Story

My Rubber and Bondage Life

7 Comments

By Hothardhat

Hothardhat’s rubber and bondage life, and its development over the years, is a bit of a saga. Like so many rubberist life stories, this one began in early childhood. It is an oft-told tale, usually revolving around yearning to pull on a pair of dad’s knee-high Wellies or some such activity. Well, this narrative is not much different. Dad always purchased his rubber boots at the local Army-Navy store. There are not too many of those around any more. Dad would sometimes go into one of these emporiums of all things delightful to a five year old budding rubber fetishist (hothardhat not yet understanding these impulses).

Dad typically marched in there to get stuff for hunting and fishing. No matter Dad’s objective, son Darren (Hothardhat’s real-life moniker) would insist on going along, just to breathe in all the wonderful smells found there. Yes, those places exuded the most delicious aromas of rubber and leather. There before Darren would be 16 inch high olive drab pacs (as they were called), thigh length hip boots and even chest waders, the ultimate. Yes, those were, indeed, wonderful stores.

There were times little Darren would sneak into his father’s closet and poke his stick-like legs into the big rubber pacs. And then try to shuffle around the room with these oversize boots almost falling off his feet. He had no clue as to why he was doing this. It just was fun, and he was inexorably drawn to these items.

Continue reading My Rubber and Bondage Life →

Story

Trespasser

2 Comments

By Bikermike

To call Matt a thief or a burglar would be putting it a bit too extreme: really he was an opportunist collector, a scavenger; particularly where the items that he collected were by and large, those that belonged to someone else.

He was also a bit of a loner. At twenty, he really didn’t have very many friends, preferring his own company. He spent time either in his bedroom with his computer or else, when the weather wasn’t raining, out exploring alleyways or paths, seeing what items caught his eye, things that he would like to possess himself.

One decent summer’s day, when the weather was hot and humid Matt decided to explore an area of Norfolk that was accessable by pushbike some ten miles distant from his home. He set off, rucksack on his back, until he came across a lonely looking wooded area that seemed to be criss-crossed by footpaths. Taking a path he followed it until the path ran adjacent to what appeared to be old tumbledown brick barns. Dismounting his bike he climbed over the low, rusty barbed wire fence, intent on exploring the buildings. he pushed open a rotten barn door that squealed on its hinges and entered. Inside he found an assortment of old abandoned farm implements, a rusty plough, an obviously seized-up tractor and several battered and rusting metal drums.

Continue reading Trespasser →

Story

A Rubberboi on the Farm – Chapter 10

3 Comments

By R8080

He was sitting at the dining table.

Alex stepped into the mudroom and saw Him waiting in the next room. He had changed, his worksuit was hanging up on one of the pegs now, next to Alex’s own. Alex pulled off the black rubber boots he had used to cross the yard quietly and placed them beneath his suit.

His Master said nothing.

Dropping to his hands and knees, Alex crawled slowly across the floor of the kitchen towards his Master.

He was wearing leather breeches again. Light gray, with black piping down the sides. The inside was a darker shade and only served to highlight His powerful legs.

Alex reached for His boot, but his Master patted his knee instead. Slowly getting to his feet, Alex sat gingerly in his Master’s lap.

Continue reading A Rubberboi on the Farm – Chapter 10 →

Story

A Rubberboi on the Farm – Chapter 09

1 Comment

By R8080

They were back in the barn behind the main farmhouse. Only twenty-four hours before Alex had been lead in as a pony, tied to a post and fucked for the first time by his Master. As they entered now, he was instead lead to a separate room.

The walls were bare concrete. A steel surgical table lay off to one side. A reclining examination chair stood waiting, its attached leg stirrups a brilliant white in the harsh fluorescent light.

The Master walked past it all, but Alex’s eyes were like saucers. He was back in his rubbersuit. A rubber hood had been added, with eye and mouth holes, all locked beneath his collar. He hurried along behind his Master.

They arrived at a gap between two low concrete walls, about five feet high.

“This whole room used to be a cowshed. I’d bring them in here in the morning, one to a stall. No need for it now. But I kept one of the stalls.”

Continue reading A Rubberboi on the Farm – Chapter 09 →

Story

A Rubberboi on the Farm – Chapter 08

3 Comments

By R8080

Alex came to slowly. His world was dark and restrictive. His jaw ached from having worn the gas mask for so long but he couldn’t open his mouth even a little. Every part of his body felt like it was stuffed, squeezed or trapped. And in his ass was the unmistakeable presence of the electro-plug.

He was still in rubber. Alex felt the sweat building up. He could feel heavy straps across his legs, chest and arms. But there was more, it felt like he was enveloped inside an airbag.

His head was locked in place by blocks to either side. A large gag had been inflated in his mouth, pushing his cheeks out until they met resistance from both within and without. Two tubes entered his nose and seemed to be his only source of air.

His entire world was at once both suffocatingly small and larger than the universe. He could feel the thick straps tug against his chest with each laboured breath, and then in the same instant his mind raced forward to think of every possible future that may lie in store. It was hell and it was nirvana and, while his brain struggled with the duality, his cock knew exactly how it felt.

Continue reading A Rubberboi on the Farm – Chapter 08 →

Story

A Rubberboi on the Farm – Chapter 07

2 Comments

By R8080

Note: This is a continuation of a story from a while back. To start at Part 1, click here.

 

The fireplace was roaring. Alex could feel the heat building up in his suit, the water sloshing about between his two rubber skins.

He knelt, gas masked forehead pressed to the stone floor.

“Have you thought about what I asked?”

His Master had arrived. Alex didn’t dare sit-up until told to do so.

“Yes Sir.”

“And?”

“Sir, I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“No Sir. Your boi doesn’t know what he needs. Please Sir, please decide for me.”

A rubber boot appeared in Alex’s vision. It was white and, as it was used to raise Alex’s chin, he followed it up. White boot, attached to a white suit.

His Master was wearing the same thing Alex was. Suit, boots, and backpack. His gas mask was different, with a single mirrored visor. And the gloves on his hands actually had individual fingers!

Continue reading A Rubberboi on the Farm – Chapter 07 →