Category Archives: Story

Story

Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 09

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By Greg Alexander

With the mud rides finally over, I was hauled back into the frat house after being thoroughly rinsed off, like a dirty piece of livestock, by a high pressure hose in the yard.

By this point, I had accomplished the truly remarkable task of accumulating no fewer than 273 demerits, all marked down in tidy bunches of five on the big white board. I wondered what exactly the consequence of having so many demerits would be.   It wouldn’t take me too long to find out.

It was late, and most of the pledges and frat boys were drunk enough and tired enough that they were finally through abusing me, at least for the night. As the large crowd of frat boys dispersed, Trevor and Bryce came over and picked me up on either end of my body. Of course, needless to say, I was still bound and tied up from head to toe.

“Hey,” Trevor said in a deep voice. He was talking to Shane, the pledge ring leader. “You wanna come do this with us?”

“Sure!” Shane’s voice was eager.

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Story

The Examination – Part 3

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By Slavebladeboi

I had my fingers hovering over the buttons that would cause yet another howl from behind the gag but as I was concentrating so hard on the boy strapped in the chair I missed several times when I should have pressed them. Now the room was filled with several different but similar sounds. There was the sound track from the video. The Master’s deep bellowing laugh, the virtual slave’s screaming “please Sir, No NOOO, arrrghhh, please, please no more Sir aaaaaaahhhgggh, I’m sorry Sir, Pleaaaaarrrrrrrrhh” every time the cattle prod hovered menacingly over his torso, playing with the boy, dancing up and down his abs and stopping over his vulnerable cock tied as it was to the top bars of the cage. Every time the sound track screamed,

Zero gabbled and made screaming noises that echoed the virtual replay. He appeared to be totally taken up with what he saw, his arms flailing, his head shaking more than that collar should allow. His gloves on the screen were trying to box away the cattle prod from the slave’s body instead of pushing the red or green areas. I shocked him for not recognising that the slave should not plead with a Master but should take what he was given however it didn’t seem to have any effect other than make him grimace, howl and flex his body.

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Story

The Examination – Part 2

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By Slavebladeboi

“According to my notes your Master calls you Zero, is that correct?”

“That and other things.”

“Like…?”

“Zilch, nada, zip, nix, shit head, … anything meaning nothing really.”

“We’ll stick to Zero here then. OK Zero. You’re here for a bit of re education. It can take as long as I want it to. I fill in the forms so if I don’t think you’ve reached your goal then you haven’t. I can make it as short or as long a process as I like. Let’s see how we get on.”

He looked in front of him without any expression.

“Mind you, it’s not all thumb screws and whips. It could be of course” I laughed quietly to myself remembering an incident last week, “but not necessarily. With you I‘ve decided to start somewhere else.”

I unlocked the base of his chair and swivelled it round 180 degrees so he was facing my work bench rather than the mirror wall.

“You see I have a range of items, whips, floggers, hoods, gags, irons to fit all manner of places on your body, clamps, chains, ropes, just to name the first shelf. However, with you perhaps we should try and find the problem you have with your position as slave.”

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Story

The Examination – Part 1

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By slavebladeboi

I looked through the one way glass as they wheeled him in. He looked about 19, fit, tanned, 5 10 or so, short jet black hair with eyes to die for. Well he wouldn’t actually have to die for them. I’d already been ordered to get everything I wanted out of him, but alive this time.

Oh well.

The three goons that dragged him into my “Initial Examination Room” as I liked to call it, so much nicer than “torture chamber”, were typical types. Heavy, muscled, hairy bears, none of them under 6’3” and wearing the uniform for their jobs in this wing, leather leggings and boots with heavy rubber aprons and bibs. Sometimes they wore fingerless studded gloves too but these were not uniform, just impressive.

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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 22

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By lthr_jock

Clark staggered upstairs, still slightly unsteady on his feet. He tried to stand unsupported but wavered and had to hold himself up against the wall. He shook his head and pulled himself together and headed back to his post. But he hardly got there, when he grabbed his stomach and dived into the nearest toilets. There he threw up – he thought it must be a reaction to the drugs Palmer had given him but it could well have been a reaction to his rape by Morrison. As he thought about it, his stomach churned and he threw up again, retching bile as the protein shakes he had been eating for the last 2 days gave him little to bring up.

“Clark? You OK?”

He heard a voice outside the stall and stood up, grabbing his cap from where it had fallen on the floor and using it to hide his shaven head before flushing and heading out. There he saw Palmer, a concerned look on his face. He rubbed his stomach ruefully.

“Must have eaten something bad. I’m going to head home.”

“Yeah. Look after yourself, Clark.”

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Story

Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 08

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By Greg Alexander

I was so scared I could have shit my pants. There I was, bound, gagged and completely helpless, at the mercy of a bunch of muscular frat jocks who at this moment had every reason to hate me, and every motive to extract their revenge. All I could do is crane my neck and stare up at them, a desperate pleading look in my eyes, as the row of pledges stared back at me, distinctly unforgiving smirks on each of their faces.

“Remember,” Trevor was saying to them, as they all looked down at me, none of them taking their eyes off of me, “the little shit bag has pictures on his hard drive of all of you naked, elephant walking around the basement of this fraternity. Little creep likes to sneak in here and take pictures of us late at night. Don’t ask me how. Now, pledges, it is up to us, the brothers of Delta Psi, to scare the cocksucker straight.”

The pledges were nodding enthusiastically at this.

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Story

To Defile

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By Bikermike

Defile (transitive verb) to befoul; to pollute or corrupt; to violate (Chambers 20th Century Dictionary 1983 edition)

I walked round, assessing what needed to be done. How long would it take? What instruments would I need?

I gave a few prods and punches to the object hanging there in the middle of the room. I suppose it could be described as a perfect specimen of masculinity, secured by chains from its wrists to an electric winch attached to a beam across the ceiling. It was naked except for a tiny pair of red lycra shorts that left very little to one’s imagination: if its penis became erect the shorts would be of little use as far as modesty was concerned.

This boy (for that’s what he was) was, I suppose about twenty five, six feet four with a swarthy complexion, zero crop hair and with about a week’s beard growth on his face. He also looked as though he had spent every day for the last eight years in the gym.

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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 21

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By lthr_jock

Clark yelled into the muzzle as he woke up, his muscles aching and his back spasming with pain. The restraints afforded him little movement and while he slept his muscles had locked. Despite his yells, little sound leaked out of the muzzle and didn’t disturb anyone outside the cell. He moved himself to a sitting position and stretched as much as the restraints allowed, staring at the blank wall and wondering what the time was. He thought it was the next day – but he had absolutely no idea. He also had no idea whether Morrison was actually coming back – he thought he would, but if he didn’t Clark would be exposed once the restraints were removed and his bondage ordeal would be over. But that would just be the start of another ordeal as his superiors explored how this had happened. They would go over his life with a fins tooth-comb as he would be suspected of being involved, and everything to do with Samuel would be discovered.

As he thought about it, he felt his cock rising and tenting the front of his trousers. Clark sighed. The bondage was arousing enough and he could reach his cock to give himself some relief. He was tempted to do it so that Morrison would have to pull on his trousers with Clarks sticky load inside, but he didn’t want to have to endure that himself. It had been bad enough when he had used the toilet on the day before – with his hands restrained in front of him he could just about work his trousers down far enough, but it took ages to pull them back up.

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