By pwnedpuppy
This is a sequel to Truckbound
It’s been a while since i’ve had a story to tell since “Truckbound”, but i wanted to catch everyone up on how things have been going with Pete and i.
In case you forgot, i’m Jeremy… well, “Gunner” is what Pete calls me – these days it’s whether we’re in a scene or not. Still five foot seven, still about 160 pounds of lean muscle. i still work IT, although the job market isn’t what it once was. Laidback bro out in public, putty-in-your-hands sub with a pup streak in the playroom.
Pete still towers over me at six foot two. He’s till working construction (although He owns His own business now). He’s bulked up a little – still all muscle, but has taken a bit of an interest in some amateur powerlifting. Still drives a big pickup, still plays a little rec hockey now and then, and still in to totally owning my ass when i come to visit on weekends.
i’ve been Pete’s pup for two years now. About six months ago, He collared me full-time with a gorgeous piece of stainless steel chain and a matching padlock. A little liquid weld went into the keyhole of the lock, so the only way this is coming off is with a bolt cutter. It’s been a great turning point in our relationship.
I am not a sadist, a fact that might surprise many considering the extreme methods I employed and allowed with Shawn. For the past month, he’d been locked in an indestructible titanium chastity cage, and was adjusting an entirely new life in the frat house. He’d wake up at 4:30 on the dot, shower, groom, workout and stretch, and offer morning blowjobs. The inconsistent sleep he got was on the floor, or in a metal dog crate in the basement. Normally, he wasn’t allowed to speak or move without permission or specific orders. The frat house was brutally strict in that regard, and the only things that took precedence were Shawn’s classes and treatment-related appointments and therapy. Which meant that a great majority of the time, he was available for bitch duties.
I stared at the wall, like I had for the past hour or so. No, not by my own choice. I was strapped in this position, my ankles spread with a bar, and my arms behind me. A thick leather muzzle kept me quiet, and there was a tether attached to the top of it keeping me in place. There was also a tether around my full, aching balls, which were already feeling a squeeze from that infernal steel chastity cage that’s been locked on them for over two months.