Category Archives: Story

Story

Bondage in 2020 Cell Without Bars – Part 05

3 Comments

By felon

The cell rings, I can’t hear much of the conversation as the radio is blasting country music. We are speeding down I-79 getting deeper into West Virginia. The skinhead prisoner seated next to me starts to struggle in his restraints. From up front: “Do the fags need to take a piss?”

He yells f–k yes. I can only grunt.

We stop about 30 miles down the road at an old fashioned gas station with the outside doors to the restrooms.

The driver says, “I know the guy that owns this place — one at a time gentlemen.” He gets the skin out of the van, and finds he can’t get the restroom door open. So he rips open the jumpsuit and pulls out the guy’s monster dick and says, “Just piss against the wall.” He leads him back to the truck and re-chains his feet to the floor.

Continue reading Bondage in 2020 Cell Without Bars – Part 05 →

Story

The WORC Program – Part 22

2 Comments

By Joshua Ryan

So OK, this is Lucky, and I get to talk!

Butch says that’s a dog’s name, and maybe he’s right! But I’m glad Mr. Hamilton chose it, because it’s the right name for me. If anybody’s lucky, I am. Just look at my boyfriend Butch! You think I’m not lucky?

Anyway, I’ve been here at Hamilton Farms for two years now, so this is a big fast forward, LOL! But it’s a good time to check into the story, for reasons I’m gonna explain. So yeah. But I wanta go back to the start. The start for me, anyhow.

It all started — me being lucky, I mean! — when I was in my senior year in high school. When you turn 18, I guess you start lookin around, tryin to figure out what you wanta do. I know what my dad wanted me to do. (I guess I should tell you, my mother’s dead. I can’t remember her much, actually. Too bad — maybe she was nice!) I was the one that was going to college. My brother Luke, he was the one that was gonna take over the business. I remember my dad sitting me down in private and telling me, “You know, Luke understands how to do this. He’s already doing it. So … I’m giving it to him. No hard feelings?”

“Course not, Dad. I didn’t want it anyway.”

I guess he didn’t like to hear that. But it was true.

Continue reading The WORC Program – Part 22 →

Story

You Wanted This

8 Comments

By Locked22

“You wanted this, slave.”

The voice spoke confidently through a speaker overhead as Derek stared at the collar.

This wasn’t just any collar. “It must weigh ten pounds” he thought, as he lifted the massive metal object off the floor of the cell he found himself in. It was a beautiful piece of ironwork, with an integrated locking mechanism that removed any need for a bulky padlock. A length of heavy chain stretched from an anchor on the wall to the collar – long enough to allow a wearer to sit or stand, but not long enough for the wearer to get close to the door of the cell.

He knew that if he closed it around his neck, there was no going back.

Not that there was much chance of that as it was. He was naked, save for the chastity cage that had been a constant companion over the preceding month, and alone in the small cell. He didn’t know where he was, or even who he was about to put himself in the custody of.

Continue reading You Wanted This →

Story

The WORC Program – Part 21

1 Comment

By Joshua Ryan

I’d almost forgot how to be a bitch, but next day, I felt it coming back.

Every morning, I woke up from a dream. Usually it was a nice dream about being back in a nice home, with nice things in it for me. Nice clothes and great food and lots of drinks and new electronics to play with and hot parties to go to and trips all the time to Paris and Rome. And in my dreams, everybody was nice to me too — even the other bitches like me. In dream time, an understanding man was always just going to get me a second cocktail. Then something would happen and I’d wake up in a bunk bed in a barracks full of workies, and I had to put on a workie suit and go to an ugly room where they gave me “chow” and climb into a truck and get taken out to a field and be worked all day with my leg locked to a chain attached to a gang of other former human beings.

So the last thing I needed was to open my eyes and find a dude standing next to my rack who was just full of joy and happiness to be doing all those things with me on this beautiful morning. That’s what he did — Lucky the Kid — every morning, and I couldn’t do anything about it. He was too pretty, and he “trusted” me too much, and if it wasn’t for me, he said, he “might never have gotten here!”

Continue reading The WORC Program – Part 21 →

Story

Journal to Hell – Part 02

Leave a comment

By rts

male bondage storiesLooking around my cell (as much as my posture collar permits), I see several chains hanging down from the ceiling, several eyebolts imbedded in the walls, the floor is dirt, and the air is hot and stifling. I am thirsty. The ball gag is getting unbearable. I’ve been here for a while, maybe 2 hours. I can’t move around much with my collar chained to the wall. I have to piss, and my arms cuffed behind my back are beginning to hurt.

I hear some noises outside my cell, rattling chains and heavy boots stomping along, someone shouting “move it fags” and a few heavy doors slamming and then the sounds of a key unlocking my cell. The door opens and a leather-clad and muzzled prisoner is shoved inside followed by 2 skinheads, one holding the chain locked to the leather man’s posture collar, the other holding what looks like a remote control box.

“Halt Fag” the one holding the box commands, and he immediately stops. The skinhead looks over at me. “Take a good look you sorry faggot, this is your immediate future.”

Continue reading Journal to Hell – Part 02 →

Story

Event Urinal – Part 04

Leave a comment

By Nitro

Nitro make bdsmI slowly followed behind Dallas, feeling the huge plug shift in my hole with every step.  Seriously – every step was like I was getting fucked deep with this monster in me. Not only was my hole getting drilled with every step – but with the restraints I couldn’t even take full stride, and Dallas sure as fuck wasn’t slowing down to wait for me. “Hurry up faggot I gotta piss” is all Dallas said without even turning back to look at me struggling to keep up.

We pass by all of the sexy geared up men hanging around the hotel’s lobby and I get a number of horny stares.  If you’ve never attended a large hotel based leather event then it is hard to describe.  The lobby becomes one giant leather bar full of guys in every type of gear you could think of.  It is not uncommon to see a gimp bound as I am following a dom through the space.

Continue reading Event Urinal – Part 04 →

Story

The WORC Program – Part 20

1 Comment

By Joshua Ryan

Spring went on. Out in the fields, it was beans, then onions, then back to beans, then three weeks digging a ditch to drain water off the level, featureless land. If you looked around, you’d believe the earth was flat after all. When I woke up in the night, I saw the long barred window at the top of the barn, and the cold stars shining behind it. Ace and Mack were rutting in the bunk ten feet away from me, but I didn’t notice it anymore. I didn’t even hear it.

Things did happen from time to time. Dax broke his arm on some machine in the canning factory and had to be taken to the vet. Who put him back in the coffle where he could keep whacking weeds, only with his other arm. One time it rained for six days and we couldn’t work, so there were a lotta fights. Even Ace got in a fight with a workie that made a joke about him. I can’t remember the joke, but I know the guy will never want to fight him again.

Continue reading The WORC Program – Part 20 →

Story

Journal to Hell – Part 01

2 Comments

By rts

male bondage storiesI’m a leather-loving biker riding an old rigid harley chopper, always in my boots and full hides. I made contact online with a man with similar interest, exchanging photos, both of us into just living in our leathers all the time. He invited me for a meet-up if I agreed to his conditions. I was to wear only my leathers, my leather jeans tucked unto my 18-inch westco boots, gloves on and naked under the hides except for a leather jock and pack, no other clothes. He would ship me a leather hood with an open lock but no key. I was to put on this hood and lock it while live on camera for him to see on the day I was to head out. I was turned on and agreed to these conditions.

A week later the hood arrived along with a crude map and directions to a small almost abandoned town in the desert about 100 miles down an old country road. The hood was hot, with small ”pepper pot” eyeholes, two small nasal tubes and a mouth hole lined with a rubber tube that would keep my mouth open, making it difficult or almost impossible to speak. The zipper pull down the back would fit over a small lock post, through which I would be able to fit the enclosed lock.

Continue reading Journal to Hell – Part 01 →