Category Archives: Story

Just Go With It – Part 1

By ty dehner

Just go with it.

That was the text I received as I was walking home from the bus stop after work. I waited for another but there wasn’t one.

“???” I replied in the text, but there was no reply.

The text came from my ex. He had moved out of the area 4 years ago and we called it quits but remained friends online. Back East he had gotten in with a group of gay kinky cops and on occasion shared some of their adventures with me. There was one guy that seemed to be the leader that was intense in what they did to their captives. The lead one even had a full-time dog that he kept in full heavy leather. The dog didn’t work and lived most of its time in a cage.

I never really got into the dog scene that guys seem to go for. I’m older and I felt it was a younger guys thing. I was more traditional leather, biker, or rubber gear and being a slave or owned object.

Arriving at my home, I entered the front door and began my routine of getting casual and fixing dinner. As I cooked and ate I kept thinking back to that text, what the hell did it mean? I haven’t been playing much in the past couple of years focusing more on work. Plus, hadn’t found anyone that was aggressive and confident of my ex. He knew what he wanted and he had no qualms of doing it with me. He really controlled his world and me. He left to deal with some family issues and just never returned.

Continue reading Just Go With It – Part 1

Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 09

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.

Continue reading Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 09

The Examination – Part 3

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.

Continue reading The Examination – Part 3

The Examination – Part 2

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.”

Continue reading The Examination – Part 2

The Examination – Part 1

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.

Continue reading The Examination – Part 1

Busman’s Holiday – Part 22

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.”

Continue reading Busman’s Holiday – Part 22

Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 08

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.

Continue reading Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 08

To Defile

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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