Category Archives: Story

Story

Human Cattle – Part 07

Leave a comment

By Pickle

Once Steve had massaged my arms and shoulders back to life and given me some water, he said, “Ok, Pick my boy.  Round Two!  Let’s get you all fixed up here dude.”

With that, he started the winch up again and got my wrists above my head. Then he affixed a bi-polar alligator clamp to each of my nipples.  Next came an electro pad for each of my abs. He was careful not to pull my shirt out when he did that. Then two on each bicep.  He smiled and looked at the wire coming out of the fly of my jeans that he had attached what now seemed like eons ago, and said, “I think we’re gonna have to deal with something else here too buddy.”  He reached through my fly and carefully pulled out my junk.  Again being careful not to disturb my shirt.  He clearly wanted those damned shirttails to stay tucked in tight.

Continue reading Human Cattle – Part 07 →

Story

Human Cattle – Part 06

Leave a comment

By Pickle

Steve takes the winch’s control in hand and with a short “whirrrr” has me a few inches off the floor.  Just enough for the 200 pounds on the bar to pull my body apart a little and put some real pressure on my wrists and hands.  I wondered if he was going to leave me this close to the ground for the whole first round.

“It’s kinda like when you lose a tooth and you can’t keep yer tongue away from the empty space, huh Dill?  When a guy’s toes are this close to the ground, he can’t help but try to reach it with his toes.  Even when you know that, with the psychological effect of nearly being able to touch it, you just can’t help yourself.  Isn’t that right, Pickle?  Real waste of energy though soldier!  ‘Conserve energy.’ That’s one of the first lessons ya learn when you’re put through SERE Training, Dilly boy.”  He added a sneer to the “Dilly boy” that time, in a way that I knew he was going to make me pay for calling him an “ass-wipe.”

Continue reading Human Cattle – Part 06 →

Story

Human Cattle – Part 05

Leave a comment

By Pickle

No sooner had I agreed, then he went over to a counter at the side of the barn and took something from it.  It was Pravilo wrist cuffs.  I’d seen this Russian workout machine that stretches you out with weights while you do exercises designed to be done on the machine.  When I saw it on YouTube I couldn’t resist going to their American distributor’s web site.  The more I checked it out, the more I knew I had to have one.  I caved in and bought the whole set-up.  It took half a day to get the thing set up when it arrived, even with Steve’s help.  It was one of the few pieces of exercise equipment I had that I’d not bought second hand.  It’s a cross between working out and going to the chiropractor all-in-one.  The cuffs are really comfortable and don’t crush the heel of your thumb into the palm of your hand the way a lot of suspension wrist cuffs do.

Stevey boy came over and said “Your wrists, soldier!”  I lifted my arms out in front of me and held them there while he strapped the specialized cuffs on them.  He then reached into his duffle bag, routed around a bit, and came out with a short, metal spreader bar, with a chain attached to each end, and a ring in the centre of the chain.  He walked over to the switch for my electric winch and lowered it to his chest and hooked the spreader bar onto it.  He then brought it a few feet over to hold it in front of me, and grinned.

Continue reading Human Cattle – Part 05 →

Story

Human Cattle – Part 04

1 Comment

By Pickle

The dawning of the next day proved pleasantly mundane.  I awoke in my own bed, back up in my farmhouse. The responsibility of owning livestock meant I’d reluctantly had to leave Steve’s bedroom in order to bring the cows back up from the pasture and get them into the barn in order to do the evening milking.  Once again the milking process made me think of that night on the spaceship.  That was only the night before last, but it felt like a year ago already.

I had no idea Steve was gay or even bi … or till that kiss, that he had ever looked at me in any way other than as his best buddy.  I was happy but still a little surprised by what had transpired, and I wasn’t entirely sure at this early milking hour that it actually had occurred.  I sucked back several strong black cups of coffee, and I was halfway through my third one before I could even begin to believe it hadn’t been some weird dream.

Continue reading Human Cattle – Part 04 →

Story

Human Cattle – Part 03

1 Comment

By Pickle

I had been deposited back on the cowpath exactly in the spot from where I’d been abducted.  I was again dressed as I’d been before it all happened, and seemingly no worse for wear.  I lay there face-down on the muddy cowpath for a few minutes, soaked to the hide from the rain that was pelting down upon me and covered in muck, just trying to gather my wits.

I had memories of what I thought had happened but wasn’t sure if they were real.  I thought I MUST have been hit by lightening and it had short-circuited my brain enough to give me those hallucinations, but I felt fine … better than I had ever felt, really REALLY good in fact.  Kind of euphoric, but also full of energy and strength.

I felt around to the back of my neck, and sure enough, there was a slight, thin ridge.  I’d be checking that out with mirrors as soon as I got inside my farmhouse.  I checked my watch and it was only a little more than an hour after I’d left the cottage.  In my mind, it had felt like days that I’d been aboard that starship, if I indeed HAD been.

Continue reading Human Cattle – Part 03 →

Story

Human Cattle – Part 02

1 Comment

By Pickle

I woke up stretched out in a narrow spread-eagle over a large arch of some kind.  I had long fantasized about those medieval wheel-shaped racks, and wondered how long I could tough it out on one.  There was some deep, twisted part of me that truly wanted to know how much I could take on one of them.

Now here I was, stretched out fully, arms above my head, torso stretched tight, bent far enough backward that when I lifted my head I wasn’t able to see my legs beyond my upper thighs. I was naked.  During the period of blackness I’d experienced, these insect-like hombres stripped me and attached me to whatever I was on. The stretch wasn’t painful, but I was definitely stretched taut on this thing.

At first I thought they had tapped into my brain and found my kinky desire to be put to one of these racks.  Any time I wanted to rub one out fast I’d put a couple pillows on top of each other and lie arched backward over them presenting my gut “front and centre,” stretching my abs out.  If I poked or punched myself in the navel in that stretched-out position while masturbating, I’d usually shoot my load within a minute or two at most.  Saves time when you’re a horny guy but have a million farm chores to get done.

Continue reading Human Cattle – Part 02 →

Story

Human Cattle – Part 01

3 Comments

By Pickle

I live in farm country and my nearest neighbour and best bud, Steve, is a fella who rents my seaside cottage.  The small building, not much more than a shack really, is situated on a cliff overlooking about a thousand metres of a beautiful, private, white sand beach.

The beach has come to be known as “Pickle’s Cove” by the other locals who all know me by my nickname.  A cowpath leads from my farmyard down through fields that go all the way to the cliff.  It’s a good one kilometre walk down to the cottage, and I always enjoy the stroll.  Meadow grasses and wildflowers grow at the edge of the fields on either side of the lane, and during the day there are all kinds of insects buzzing, flying from flower to flower.  The combined smell of honey and vanilla from the clover, the scent of the salt air, and the feel of the sun beating down on me on the stroll is always wonderfully good for my soul.

Continue reading Human Cattle – Part 01 →

Story

The Inescapable Canvas – Part 02

3 Comments

By THHoudini and yohan555

Chapter 4 – Bound Desires

Nat woke up in the dark, not knowing where he was. He could not see anything. Then he remembered, Yohan had tricked him, tricked him in a straitjacket that was more than a normal asylum restraint. A straitjacket that was somehow magical and that had transformed and fused with his body. The darkness he lay in wasn’t just a void—it was a living, breathing beast, a predator that didn’t merely surround Nat but sank its claws into him, seeping through his skin, threading into his veins like a venom that burned and begged for more. It wasn’t silence—it was a symphony of torment: the creak of leather stretching taut over his thrashing body, the thud of his pulse roaring in his ears, the faint, slick whisper of spandex shifting beneath the straitjacket’s iron grip. That jacket—fuck, it really wasn’t a jacket anymore, he had not dreamed that. When the blinding white light had faded, it had shed its innocently looking soft clothing shell, transforming into a seamless, glossy shroud of black leather that fused to him from his broad shoulders down to the thick curve of his hips. No buckles, no seams, no escape—just a second skin that clung tighter with every breath, every twitch, every curse he spat into the void. It was still reacting to his movement, still adjusting to him as he moved.

Continue reading The Inescapable Canvas – Part 02 →