Category Archives: Story

Story

The Wait

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By Steellock

The wait was over!

As a dedicated switch he loved meeting with friends for a few hours; switching roles between top and bottom. Restraining his friends and taunting them with clamps, peg, electrodes; the many and varied toys he had gathered over the last few years. All the while knowing that the boi in his hands would soon be dealing out to him something very similar. It might be the sting of the cane as he was strung up tight to the ceiling or the tap tap tap of the crop on his thigh as he sat, tightly held in his bondage chair.

But soon it would be over. He rarely found a top with the time or the inclination to just restrain him for a long pure session of pure bondage. Imobilised. Zipped and strapped into his sleepsack. Spread-eagled on the bed with leather restraints, chains and padlocks. Securely held in Segufix – perhaps his greatest pleasure. Such tops are either few and far between or expensive!

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Story

Every Dog Has His Day – Part 02

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By Thunder

It was an amazing night with Master Jake and my thoughts were conflicted about humanity and dog time and, as he fucked me, I was feeling more and more like a possession, albeit a prized one, with each movement. When Master finished, he left me in place on all fours for a few minutes. I heard the shower running, some drawers opening and closing and finally the light switch indicating he was on his way back. I had known better to move and when he returned he did not say a word before pushing what felt like a telephone pole inside my ass and then hitting the object. I knew I had just been given my first tail and that this would be a moment to treasure.

Master looked me straight in the eyes and asked said, “this is it, you have one last chance to change your mind about spending the next week as my dog, Thunder. You know the rules, the expectations, and it’s all into this one moment when you indicate yes or no. This week you will be allowed more freedom than typical and will use your human voice more, but, even when in that space, know that you are almost a full dog and, within a few months you will be all dog. So, boy, what is your response?” I knew this moment was coming but it still hit me like a brick in that oh so good way. And, really without any real hesitation, I looked right at Master and barked once and quickly jumped off the bed into all fours.

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Story

Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 05

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By PredicamentBondage

Things are quite leisurely at the training facility with only two slaves in stock. It was wild a few weeks ago because we had eight on the go but, as it is, I feel like I’m on holiday.

Shit-head has been with us a few days now. So far, it’s spent 24 hours isolated in its pod, exercising and learning how to drink from the water dispenser. Following that, it spent the best part of a day hanging in the factory area being broken. Like its peer resident in the next pod (piss-slit), shit-head has also been through its very first training session, lesson one – SPEECH LAW NUMBER 1.

Today, it’s SPEECH LAW NUMBER 2 and shit-head is already in place, eager to begin (I’m sure).

My little brunette fire-plug is standing in one of the classrooms, one foot on each of two large blocks. The blocks are 3 feet apart so its legs are spread wide. Wrists are in 18th century iron shackles and pulled straight up, forcing the slave onto its toes. It still wears the heavy ball stretcher that it’s involuntarily had to endure for several days, making its balls ultra-sensitive and very tender. Around its neck is a shock collar, the remote control handily in my jeans back pocket.

“Good morning shit-head” I say in greeting.

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Story

Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 04

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By PredicamentBondage

Stevie (from Chapter 1), now renamed “piss-slit,” is hanging from his wrists, as had shit-head before him.

Shit-head is back in its pod, now programmed on a 50-minute rest, 10-minute sprint cycle. This ensures the slave’s slumber is continually interrupted, keeping it sleep deprived and on edge at all times.

Piss-slit has just endured the same treatment as shit-head before him. There were several significant differences between piss-slit’s performance and that of shit-head. Firstly, piss-slit didn’t pass out when it orgasmed. It also took longer to break and now has a total of 21 pounds weighing its balls down. It was a low-hanger to start with, but the stretch is now an impressive 10 inches. It managed to piss itself three times and shit itself once during the ordeal, whereas shit-head stayed dry. No problem, because the factory area is designed for easy clean up.

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Story

Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 03

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By PredicamentBondage

Thirty minutes later, I walk back into the factory area where shit-head is still hanging, periodical swaying in time with twitching muscles. Its arms seem longer somehow. Its head hangs forward with its chin on its chest as if sleeping, but I know that sleep will not have come yet. It’s probably trying to cope with the pain.

There’s a damp pool forming on the bare concrete under the slave where it’s been perspiring over the last few hours. A seductive sheen covers every inch of its body, begging to be caressed.

Its cock is still rigidly pointing to its bellybutton. That must be painful in itself after being hard as iron for so long. Once again I place my stool between its painfully outstretched legs, sit down and touch my tongue to the tip of the cock. The sweet taste of pre-cum seeps over my taste buds. The cock instantly reacts by twitching violently and oozing pre-cum that bubbles up from the depths of the slave’s cock to lather the shiny helmet skin.

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Story

Ride Along as a Prisoner – Part 6

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Ride Along as a Prisoner Part 6 – Five Hours as a Prisoner

By asiancuffs

15 Aug 2017

The wagon hit the highway again, and after that short “social contact” with jailmate, he was not that defensive as before. We started to chat a little bit by asking about each other’s cases. He asked why I was arrested and I just made up something about corruption and he told me that he is involved of forgery of documents, which I already knew from the officers. It was his first time being arrested and he says he was so shameful when police went into his office to arrest him. He was handcuffed with hands behind in front of workmates. Not much more to talk about during the journey only telling him that I will be transported to precinct A, which may be different than where he will be transported. It was also pre-arranged with the officers that I will be leaving the wagon before they return to their station with jailmate.

The wagon is entering G again and heading for the neighbourhood where I will be “released.” The wagon stopped and an officer opens the back door and unlocks the connecting handcuffs restricting my shackles. I was surprised that when I was about to step down the wagon, jailmate reached out his cuffed hands and want to shake my hands. I offer my hand with the rattling of chains, we shake our hands and say good luck to you. One officer took me around the corner to stay away from the sight of jailmate to release me from my restraints, and he gave my phone back to me before he returned to the vehicle. I peeked out from the block and saw the wagon leaving with one real prisoner inside.

Epilogue

We have a nice dinner that evening after the officers were off duty. I thanked them for such a wonderful experience and also asked them about some points that I was not clear about the routine. I asked when we were at the detention center to pick up jailmate, should the officers there know the passenger load of the transport? Their answer made me have a smile on my face, as they say the detention officers’ task is to hand the prisoner to them and who cares if there is any other passenger on board? They also say that there is even a longer transport such as 36 to 48 hours using trains, the railway security wants to stay out of the picture as much as possible, once you show them the necessary documents, they will assign a cabin to you, then you will be on your own to deal with your prisoner. That’s the mentality of civil servants in this country.

The dinner ended with an “invitation” from them: Do you want to ride along in a train with us?

Shall I?

 

The end

Metal would like to thank the author, asiancuffs, for this true story!

Story

Ride Along as a Prisoner – Part 5

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Ride Along as a Prisoner Part 5 – Service Area Again

By asiancuffs

15 Aug 2017

The wagon left the detention center and drove through the city roads heading to the highway entrance, again a few vehicles passed us and the passengers or drivers looked at the “prisoners.” After we were on the highway, there was nothing else interesting on the road except fast passing vehicles. I start looking at the jailmate, he is a guy in his mid-20s, dressed in shirt without tie, suit and black dress shoes. He looked a lot more decent than me in a T-shirt, shorts and sneakers. He sat quietly looking down, at most times looking at his cuffed hands as he moves his hands. He also checked his shackles and moved as the extent of the chains allowed. I look at him all the time and once we have eye contact, he turns his face around to avoid a direct look at me.

After half an hour on the highway, it was planned that I request a washroom stop so I speak out loud enough that the officers heard my request. The officers replied that there will be a service area and we can use the washroom later. Then I asked jailmate if he wants to pee or not and he says he does not have the need. I tried to open the dialogue with him by asking questions like why are you arrested, have you been arrested before and similar questions. The replies I got from him were just single-word answers, “Yes,” “No.” The rest of the ride he just lowered his head, playing with the connecting chains.

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Story

Ride Along as a Prisoner – Part 4

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Ride Along as a Prisoner Part 4 – City F Detention Center

By asiancuffs

15 Aug 2017

I sat on the prisoner bench with my hands cuffed and feet shackled to the steel bar. The only thing I can do is to watch though the bar windows of vehicles passing us. In about an hour, the wagon gets off the highway and starts entering F. The city traffic is not that bad as compared to G, and in 10 minutes on the busy road we reach a building with a pair of solid metal gates. I looked out of the window, there is a sign saying “City F Dentention Center.” The wagon is pointed directly at the gate, so that the CCTV can scan and check its license plate. In a minute, the gate opens automatically and the wagon enters the detention center. I heard some mechanical sound and saw the gate closed behind the wagon. The vehicle parked in a designated parking spot and the engine stopped.

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