Category Archives: Story

Story

The Purchase – Part 02

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By slavebladeboi

I woke up with a jolt. I’d sat leaning against the fuck bench looking at my new toy when I must have dropped off. For how long I didn’t know but I certainly had a stiff neck from the odd angle at which I was leaning and looking in front of me I soon had a stiff cock again too. There he was, sitting as best he could in the cage, which was about 4 feet square and 3 high. Not comfortable for that long apart from curling up in a foetal position. But he was there, staring out at me through the bars with his large blue eyes, still looking very apprehensive.

Right, I thought, let’s get on with this. I didn’t pay a small fortune to sit and look at him. Trouble was I felt I wanted to fuck him senseless and hold him tight to comfort him at the same time. Must get over this feeling! I got up, stretched my arms above my head and without being too obvious tried to show him the results of my extra work at the gym. Ok I wasn’t Schwarzenegger at his best but I could certainly handle anything this slave might throw at me. Not that I thought he would. Walking over to the cage, I remained silent, unlocked the door and opened it, indicating he should crawl forward. He remained on his hands and knees looking at the floor.

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Story

The Purchase – Part 01

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By slavebladeboi

I don’t often purchase items off the internet, which may seem a strange thing to say for the head of an IT department for a largish company but I have this thing about wanting to touch and feel the items I’m buying. Pictures just don’t do it somehow. Anyway, that’s changed somewhat. I got to the end of an 18-month project that will save the company seven figure sums over the next few years and the bonus I got was out of this world. So I blew it, well most of it, on something I’ve wanted for ages and never had the means to buy. It’s taken nearly two months from order specification to delivery and today, this morning, the crate is standing in the room downstairs waiting for me and my crowbar.

It’s a heavy wooden crate, full of those bloody awful, tennis ball sized polystyrene balls that go everywhere as soon as you look at them and take ages to clear up. But it keeps the item safe which is more important.

I stood looking at the crate and then decided to take pics of the unveiling. So not wanting a full on video I decided to take one or two shots at regular intervals. The first pieces of wood came off quite easily, together with a small avalanche of white balls.

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Story

The Bet – Chapter 07

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By lthr_jock

I walk into the murky bar at Backstreet and take a look around. I can see a few regulars and a couple of nervous newcomers. One of them looks at me and immediately drops his gaze. I can’t say I blame him, as I know what I look like. From the toes of my gleaming Dehners to the tight collared shirt clapsed at my neck by a blue leather tie, I am covered in thick heavy leather.

My trousers are stitched and padded down the sides and tailored to accentuate the size of my cock. My leather uniform shirt and tie are mostly obscured by the thick padded leather jacket that has been belted tightly shut to show my narrow waist and the bulk of my chest. The gloom of the room is deepened by the reflective sunglasses I’m wearing and on top of my neatly cropped hair is my leather Muir cap. I raise my gloved hands to remove my sunglasses and tuck them in the top pocket of my jacket, before heading for the bar for a beer.

A bottle in hand, I head into the darkened area at the back. There are sounds of men having sex all around me, forming a soft counterpoint to the loud music. I find a place to stand, leaning against a wall, displaying the length of my body and look around for someone of interest. I spot one almost immediately.

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Story

The Cop and the Young Punk – Part 02

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By Mister-X/Spartan

Somehow Harry managed to make it through the several hours of standing at attention. He hated that tie and the tight shirt collar. He wondered how people could stand being dressed this way all the time. His stomach had been growling, and he wondered when he was going to be fed. Soon he started hearing the sound of a door opening and one of the ‘prisoners’ being marched out. He figured he was finally going to be fed.

When it was Harry’s turn, he was first checked to make sure he was at an erect attention, then marched out and down the hall. He was marched into that standing cage again. His cuffs and shackles were removed, and he was told to take off his shirt, tie and pants. After he’d done so, the clothes were folded neatly into a bag with his name on it, put on a shelf, and the cuffs and shackles were put back on. This time he also had something else put on. It was a leather hood with only two pinholes at the nostrils. After it was tightly strapped on over his gag, the pinholes lining up properly, he now could no longer see, and his breathing was a little restricted. He was then marched out of the cage and room and down the hall.

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Story

The Cop and the Young Punk – Part 01

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By Mister-X/Spartan

Harry noticed the police car up ahead. He checked his speedometer, and found that he was going a couple of miles per hour above the limit, but nothing that should cause a policeman to pull him over and issue him a ticket. The police car was driving well under the limit. So he kept going at his speed and soon had passed the police car.

Suddenly he saw red lights flashing in the mirror, so he pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. He was surprised to be pulled over. He pulled out his driver’s license to have at the ready.

The cop was at the side of the car, looking at him through his Ray Bans. What he saw was another punk dressed in tattered jeans and t-shirt. “Driver’s license.” Harry gave it to him, and the cop started inspecting it.

“Wait here.” The cop walked back to his car, taking Harry’s license with him. The cop was everything that Harry didn’t like, tight shirt and tie, arrogant look on his face and in his voice as he spoke to Harry. It took a few minutes before the cop was back.

“Do you know what the speed limit is here?”

“Yes. It’s 45.”

“I clocked you going 57.”

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Story

Copdar – Contact with a Corrections Officer

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By Cuffsandcops

Given the way things abruptly ended with the Policeman and his panties, I woke up the morning rip roaring to find a way to get rid of some pent up sexual energy. I woke up a few hours before check out, just in case my cop slave from the previous night could stop by. He did respond to a few texts, so I hopped on the apps to see who was around.

Before falling asleep the night before, I had exchanged a few brief messages with a guy who had an athletic looking profile and dark features like I tend to like. He had passed out during the late night chat, but apologized and said I was mad cute around 8am. He asked how long I was at the hotel for and I told him that check out was at 11. I asked what he got into and he replied that he was versatile. I informed him I was as well, and also fetishy. He asked what kinds and I responded with handcuffs, hoods, and nipples. He said he never tried any of that, but he was into oral, slapping, and being rough on both the giving and receiving end.

I commented that handcuffs kind of went along with what he liked. He asked me if I had a pair, which I of course did. He said the idea was making him hard. I asked if he was thinking of putting them on me or being in them himself. He wanted them on me. I said he could fuck my face after he cuffed me. He said he wouldn’t mind busting a big nut with me.

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Story

RUBBER object by muckyRUBBERpig

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By muckyRUBBERpig

muckyRUBBERpigRubber was made for dehumanation of slaves, and their conversion into objects.

Worn by an object, rubber hides much of what makes a human body, what makes it different from another human body. Of course, there are still differences in size, width or general shape, but a rubber-covered body looks like another rubber-covered body, they no longer have a real identity of their own. Without this human physical identity and personality, the slave loses part of its humanity and thus becomes an object. During its existence, the object will very rarely see itself in a mirror or it may eventually glimpse its reflection somewhere. Despite the passage of time, when allowed to see, it will only see a human form without a face, without identity, expression or character and what it sees will never, ever change. This immutable image detaches it from the passing of time, cancels identity and the object will forget the image of itself and how it looked like before it was encased in its rubber skin. As soon as it is encased in rubber, a new identity of rubber object is created: It is just one thing, another possession of its Owner.

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Story

Enjoying the Flight – Part 1

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By Cutieboy90

Cutieboy90 hinged handcuffs“Enjoy your flight!”

Right, because there’s much to enjoy about being stuffed like a sardine in a flying aluminum can for five hours… I take my bags and ticket toward the security line. The one enjoyable thing about the airport at 4am, is how fast the lines go. If there’s a line at all.

“Place any electronics larger than a cell phone in the bins… Shoes off. Coats off. Empty your pockets.”

“Nice boots!” The TSA officer whistled as I placed my black cowboy boots on the belt. “They even look new!”

“Thank you,” I replied as nicely as I could at the 4am hour. “They were a real find.”

“Beautiful!” He took a closer look at the white designs etched over the shiny black leather of my boots. He finally shook his head. “I can’t wear boots anymore, as they hurt my feet. But nothing compares to ‘em!”

“For sure,” I nodded. The TSA guy was cute. Beefy build, big arms, and clearly liked boots. If there was no line, I’d have taken more time getting my stuff into the bins. Oh well…

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