Category Archives: Story

Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 01

By PredicamentBondage

Stevie is having trouble drinking. He is in one of the pods and the water spigot is of a very extraordinary design…

The spigot is exactly 28 inches above the floor. It’s a 1.5 inch diameter pipe that protrudes from the wall by 2 inches. In order to drink, Stevie must drop onto all fours and take the pipe fully into his mouth.

There are two buttons down at floor level about one foot apart which he has to push, one with each hand.

In the wall, just above the pipe, is another button that must be depressed using his nose. When this is achieved, roughly 1 inch of pipe is implanted in his mouth.

In this position Stevie is staring straight at a small set of instructions (mounted on the wall above the nose button) that explain what he has to do in minute detail. He has successfully accomplished all but one last step so, as yet, he is still thirsty.

Continue reading Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 01

I Had No Idea

By BndMaster13

Let me begin this story with a simple statement, “I had no idea what I was getting myself into.” Yes, that may seem like a strange way to start but let me try and explain to you what I mean. I am (or perhaps was) a normal 19-year-old just graduating high school and trying to decide where to go with my life. I had already decided that I wanted a break before college. At least a year to get my head together. My best friend Rick and I had been in a b/d relationship for about 2 years. He was the Top as I loved to be tied up and dominated by him. Just the thought of being in bondage turned me on. The longer and tighter the better. I have a good body for bondage. I had been on the swim team for all of my high school years. This has given me a well toned but not overly muscular body. I stand 5’7″ and weigh 150lbs. Broad chest tapering down to a narrow waist. Rick tells me I have a beautiful physique. The only real body hair I have is a treasure trail that drops invitingly from my navel down to my crotch. As a swimmer I had always kept the hair on my legs and crotch trimmed so my speedos would look better. I must add here that I am amply endowed with a 8 inch cock that swells to a full 10 inches when I am turned on. My balls are large and hang low so believe me I really fill a speedo!

Rick is taller and heavier built than me. He has always been a weight lifter so he has an incredible, powerful body. He stands just over 6′ 1″ and when he looks down at me I just melt. He is a year older than me and has always been by best friend, big brother, and finally my lover and bondage Top.

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Hallowe’en by lthr_jock

By lthr_jock

“Shane, seriously, why are we doing this?”

The 6-foot-tall blond looked at his shorter friend. “I don’t even want to go to the damn party.”

Pete put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Like I said, Mary will be there and this is your final chance.” The two stood beside each other looked like an advert for clean living. Both were well built and healthy, both with unruly blond hair. Shane and Pete had been friends since they started school. Now, at the age of 20, they were back in town on a visit. Both had gone off to the same university and were taking a short break to visit their families. Their quiet visit had been interrupted when Shane spotted an old flame and spent the evening moping about her. Pete had come up with the idea of them attending the local Hallowe’en Party in the hope that it would cheer Shane up.

“Yeah, yeah, but she isn’t going to go for me with me wearing some damn costume.”

“But you have to be in costume to get in. Seriously, Shane, she’ll appreciate you’ve gone to some effort.”

Shane sighed and pushed open the door to the Costume Shop. The shop hadn’t been there when they were at school and the pair had spotted it by accident as they were wandering around looking for inspiration.

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Roger – Part 4

By David Sellers

Five minutes later—maybe less—I heard the deadbolt click and the door to the storeroom open.

I groaned, unhappily, and pushed against the straps. I wanted the ballcrusher off. I wanted the gag removed. I wanted out.

“I know, honey,” my husband said, patting my chest, “it hurts, all of it. It’s supposed to. Ten more minutes. Maybe fifteen. Unless you moan and groan—do that and I’ll leave you here.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled. I would be good. I would be quiet.

My husband began to stroke my cock—which is the only thing that makes the ballcrusher bearable. What felt like five minutes went by. I was getting close to coming.

“You close?”

“Yes,” I grunted with the gag in my mouth—I was close. Really close.

Another long stroke. Another. My cock began to throb. With his free hand my husband undid the buckle of the gag and removed it from my mouth. I was right on the edge.

“Permission to come?!?” I said, desperately. “Please? Can I come?!?

My husband let go of my cock.

Continue reading Roger – Part 4

Roger – Part 3

By David Sellers

“Pick one.”

Roger was sitting on a small stool near the head of the bondage board. He was fully dressed in his work clothes, smiling broadly, and holding two used condoms over my head. He had one in each hand. One was from last night’s fuck, he told me, one was from this morning’s fuck. And one was going about to be emptied into my mouth. My choice would determine whether I got this morning’s load — still warm, Roger said — or last night’s cold, congealed load.

They — my husband, my husband’s boyfriend — had come into the storeroom a moment ago. I wasn’t quite asleep, but the clicking of both deadbolts quickly brought me out of a bondage-induced dream state. Roger pulled the stool we keep in the storeroom over to the bondage board and removed my blindfold. He told me it had been six hours — “maybe a little more” — and then he held the condoms up.

“Choose,” Roger said.

He flashed me that smile again. He was loving this. I nodded my head toward Roger’s right hand.

“Too bad,” said Roger. “Last night’s condom.”

Continue reading Roger – Part 3

Roger – Part 2

By David Sellers

About eighteen months ago we had a threeway with Roger, a twenty-something nurse who used to date one of my husband’s coworkers. The sex with Roger, that first time, was completely vanilla—and completely amazing. Roger has a hot body, a killer smile, and medium-length brown hair. And he loved to be fucked. The second time he came over we told him about our bondage gear and our playroom — which has a sling, a fuckbench, and a cage in addition to the bondage board—but Roger wasn’t into it. He didn’t even want to see it. More vanilla sex, more threeways. Roger and my husband hit it off. They began to spend a lot of time together when I was out of town. (I travel for work once or twice a month.) About a year ago my husband asked me if it was okay for Roger to be — to think of himself as, to tell people he was — my husband’s boyfriend.

That was fine, I said.

There was more.

Continue reading Roger – Part 2

Roger – Part 1

By David Sellers

“You’re going to be locked in here,” Roger says, slowly stroking my cock as he looks into my eyes, “while I sleep in your bed, with your husband. But first he’s going to fuck me. Then I’m going to fall asleep in your husband’s arms and you’re still going to locked in here, helpless and miserable, because your sadistic husband allows his sadistic boyfriend to do this to you. He lets me put you away like this, lock you up like this, you pathetic fuck.”

That’s usually what Roger says — or something close to it — before he snaps the blindfold to the hood. I’m already gagged, laced tight in a sleepsack, and strapped down to the bondage board in the playroom my husband and I built a few years before we met Roger.

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Cuffed by the TaskMaster

By Padlocked Slave

I never set out to be a long-distance captive doing humiliation tasks for a strict disciplinarian. For a whole fucking weekend no less. It just sort of happened all of a sudden. And like getting stuck in quicksand, I found after a very short while that I could not escape.

It all started in a rather unexpected way. You see, my big fetish is locking metal bondage — handcuffs especially. But anything that locks really. I’ve spent many weekend hours looking at tumblr feeds and flickr accounts featuring handcuffs and prisoners, often fantasizing of being locked inescapably in a particular set of bracelets. Along the way I joined the CuffClub, a handcuff collectors online discussion group, which is where I first encountered the guy. The site was mostly collectors and law enforcement types. But some kinky people were on there as well.

This guy had posted some pictures of a set of high-security cuffs that were unlike any I had ever seen. They had this special locking mechanism with what looked like a unique key. Sort of like a house key, but for handcuffs. I just had to message the guy about them, and he chatted me up. We seemed to hit it off, and after a while I could not believe my luck when he agreed to ship the cuffs to me so that I could try them on.

But there was a catch.

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