Category Archives: Story

Story

Montana – Part 03

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By ty dehner

The drive to the bar uneventful, watching the empty landscape pass by lit by the full moon. When I adjusted in the seat I could feel the piss slosh around in my boot. On occasion Ty would reach over and rub the Velcro sharply into my tits. He explained that the bar is not a gay bar, but some of his gay buds hang out there as well as his straight friends. He thought it would be crowded with the rodeo in town.

We arrived at the bar that looked busy. As we parked I commented on being thirsty and was glad to be at the bar.

“The boot,” said Ty wryly.

i questioned him and he told me to drink the piss that is in my boot. Carefully I worked it off my foot getting a good strong whiff of the smell as it approached my lips. Laying the leather boot shaft on my lip, i poured the warm piss down my throat. Feeling very humble, Ty chuckled as I finished it off.

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Story

Montana – Part 02

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By ty dehner

My dick grows a bit more, then i realize that those voices are coming closer. Are they hands on the ranch, and has Ty fooled me into thinking that he owns this place? For all i know, he is not returning. i stumble around a bit and feel the post scratch my naked ass. i figure i better be careful or i’ll end up with splinters. i can’t believe he left me hanging like this, the excitement is growing away quickly.

The loud laughing breaks my thought of my situation. They are getting closer. i now fear them finding me. What if they aren’t into bondage or gay. What if they hate what they find and decided to beat the shit out of me. What defense do i have. What if they are cowboys and what are they gonna do with this naked guy hanging from a post? i try not to turn my head as i hear their voices coming from behind me. Then it happens.

“What the fuck?!” i hear one of the voices yell out.

i close my eyes, hoping they will just move on. i listen as they are silent, only the sound of their horses as they near. i’m not sure, but i know there is more than one. i stand very still, not making a sound. Thinking that if they would just move on, i would do anything right now.

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Story

Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 12

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By PredicamentBondage

It takes a few moments for fuck-face to feel the lightly pulsing current through its dick. At first the implications don’t register to the scallies dullard brain, but as the sensations get stronger, and the urge to cum once again increases, the slave realises that he’s not in an ideal situation.

The bound captive raises his head slightly, eyes widening. Turning towards me, and with a slightly anxious voice, says “No need, mun! Sack it la!” Translation: An exclamation of disapproval followed by “Stop it! Don’t do it!” The dialect is quite melodious and is roughly based on English.

I respond calmly: “You think I went to all this trouble to just let you go? No way fucker, you’re gonna learn some respect.”

I pull the chair closer so I have a good view. “Now, when you’re ready to behave, just let me know and I’ll turn the machine off”, I lie.

Fuck-face clenches its lips, closes its eyes and rests its head back on the rack. I always find this so fucking horny. There’s nothing sexier than a bound, stretched torso laid out ready for torture, unable to protect itself from the monstrous ministrations planned by a sadistic Master. And there’re few Masters more sadistic than me. <grin>

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Story

Montana – Part 01

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By ty dehner

Ty and i had met on line one evening, when i was feeling horny. i was hanging out in one of the many chat rooms. We started talking about our mutual interest in leather, cowboys, bondage and other fun things that guys like us enjoy. We traded pictures, but neither of them were up to date. After talking back and forth for nearly six months, i asked Ty if he was going to be near my hometown soon. i had a week’s vacation coming up and thought it would be fun to finally meet in person. i could drive or fly and meet him for a day or two. Ty said that the rodeo was going to be in Billings, Montana the first weekend that i was on vacation.

Ty and i really enjoy cowboys, their gear and the games that two cowboys can play. Ty is purely a dominant guy, and i am submissive all the way. Being that i lived on the west coast, driving to Billings in time for the rodeo was not going to work. Ty offered to pick me up at the airport and we could share a room. Ty enjoyed the rodeo, as i did. i’m not sure if we liked watching the bull riding, calf wrestling, or just watching those guys in chaps and Wranglers.

i woke the morning of the flight to Montana. I put on my Wranglers, lace-up ropers, belt, black brush popper shirt, leather vest and my hat. i had packed a few other things, knowing that i was only spending the night.   As we took off, i enjoyed the feeling of my tight jeans. i chuckled as i noticed a few of the guys in the airport checking me out.   And the male flight attendant sure seemed to be giving me great service. i know that standing 6’1”, as i do, i can look pretty “tough”, but if only they knew my real personality. i’m a husky guy, weighing in at 240 pounds, i keep my hair cut real short and am clean shaven. i’ve been trying to work out a bit, and eventually hope to have the same shape as Garth Brooks. Talk about a hunk, i can feel his thunder roll any time!

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Story

Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 11

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By PredicamentBondage

Scally-lads are a British phenomenon that have flourished across our society for close on twenty years. They are tribal animals that run in packs, usually congregating in groups of three or more on street corners, with little to do except look for trouble.

They are essentially feral mongrels that live by their wits, self-obsessed, self-serving, enjoying life, without a care in the world.

Their uniform usually consists of ill-fitting, worn and unwashed tracksuits, with hoody tops and trainers or tennis shoes, often branded and new.

Usually uneducated, they have poor language skills, are often loud, abusive and lack social skills.

They typically have very high libidos, fucking whatever low-life females they can convince to ‘put-out’ for them. They make excellent sex slaves but I encourage owners to adopt a very specific attitude towards their scally slaves….

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Story

You’re in No Position to Negotiate – Part 07

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By nyc49

Eventually the door to the basement was unlocked, and Len came down the stairs with a key in his hand. “Ready to be unlocked?” he asked. First he unlocked the chain from the pole, leaving me to wonder if he was going to have me drag this chain around for a while. But then he unlocked the cuff around my foot. “Come upstairs for breakfast.”

I still hadn’t gotten used to hanging around people who were fully clothed when I was naked myself, but I didn’t really have much choice in the matter. Also, it was good to be able to move all of my limbs in any direction. If only my dick weren’t locked up.

My hosts started to make noises about leaving, and I was wondering if I was going to have to wear the cage home like I did last time. Bill brought out a bag, which turned out to have my clothes in it, as well as something else: an old wrestling singlet.

“Here’s what we’re going to do to make your trip home a little more interesting. First, put your jockstrap back on.” Since he didn’t mention anything about unlocking the chastity cage, I guess this meant I was going home locked. “Next, time to put that prostate massager in another time. We recharged it while you were asleep. Should have a few hours of juice in it.” I did so, carefully.

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Story

You’re in No Position to Negotiate – Part 06

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By nyc49

After I had been sent home with my dick locked up for an indefinite period of time, you would think that I would have learned my lesson. Eventually I got the key to the chastity device, and eventually I got myself unlocked. Still, I wanted to give my friends another try and see what challenges they could come up with. I arranged for another overnight session. By now it was winter, so I knew we wouldn’t be playing outdoors, and when we got to Ted and Bill’s house, I wasn’t asked to strip until I got inside. I thought maybe I would at least be allowed to keep my jockstrap on for awhile, they put everything away in a bag and told me to go down to the basement.

“You’ll see some instructions on the table and some toys,” Bill told me. “Read the instructions more than once, because once you start following them, you won’t be able to go back and double check.” This was intriguing. I turned on the light at the top of the stairs and walked down into the room where I had spent the night trying to escape from a duct-tape mummification. This time there was a roll of duct tape, a hood, a padlock and a pair of handcuffs laid out.

The instructions read: “First lock one cuff on one of your wrists. Then place a strip of duct tape over your mouth. Keep track of where the padlock and key are, because you won’t be able to see anything through this hood. Put the hood on, and when it’s comfortable, lock the padlock on the strap around your neck. Pick up the key and turn around two or three times. Then throw the key as hard as you can. Finally, attach the remaining cuff around your other wrist with your hands behind your back. Then wait.”

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Story

Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 10

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By PredicamentBondage

Shit-head is led from its pod to the area of the factory I call “Shaving Corner”. It’s time to get this slave completely stripped.

Shaving a slave from top to bottom has several benefits, the most important being psychological. When slaves see themselves in a mirror with no body hair, no pubes, no pit-hair they see their masculinity stripped away in line with their body-hair. They see non-masculine, non-macho, boyish, emasculated, weak objects reflected back at them. Most don’t even recognise themselves. The psychological effects are immeasurable in helping to make the slave compliant and cementing its status as an owned object.

But… And it’s a big BUT… shaving is very time consuming. Shearing a slave properly can take several hours and needs to be done at least once every four weeks or so. If you consider that we might have up to ten slaves in residence, it adds up to almost 4 working days every month; not practical.

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