Category Archives: Story

Story

The Inescapable Canvas – Part 02

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By THHoudini and yohan555

Chapter 4 – Bound Desires

Nat woke up in the dark, not knowing where he was. He could not see anything. Then he remembered, Yohan had tricked him, tricked him in a straitjacket that was more than a normal asylum restraint. A straitjacket that was somehow magical and that had transformed and fused with his body. The darkness he lay in wasn’t just a void—it was a living, breathing beast, a predator that didn’t merely surround Nat but sank its claws into him, seeping through his skin, threading into his veins like a venom that burned and begged for more. It wasn’t silence—it was a symphony of torment: the creak of leather stretching taut over his thrashing body, the thud of his pulse roaring in his ears, the faint, slick whisper of spandex shifting beneath the straitjacket’s iron grip. That jacket—fuck, it really wasn’t a jacket anymore, he had not dreamed that. When the blinding white light had faded, it had shed its innocently looking soft clothing shell, transforming into a seamless, glossy shroud of black leather that fused to him from his broad shoulders down to the thick curve of his hips. No buckles, no seams, no escape—just a second skin that clung tighter with every breath, every twitch, every curse he spat into the void. It was still reacting to his movement, still adjusting to him as he moved.

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Story

The Inescapable Canvas – Part 01

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By THHoudini and yohan555

Chapter 1 – Beginnings

The rain pattered softly against the windows of the secluded cottage as Nat stepped inside, his eyes scanning the cluttered yet intriguing space. The home was a curious blend of eccentricity and artistry—shelves crammed with odd trinkets, walls adorned with peculiar paintings, and a faint scent of aged wood and oil paint lingering in the air. But Nat wasn’t here for the decor. He was here for the straitjacket.

Nat was a straitjacket artist, a hobby that had earned him quite a following online. He performed daring escape acts, twisting and contorting his way out of restraints with a grace that bordered on artistry. Nat loved the challenge, the thrill, the control he felt when he escaped a tight set of restraints, but there was more to it than that. The tight feeling of a straitjacket around his body, holding him snugly in place, gave him a sense of security that was almost intoxicating. And now he was about to go even further. He was here to experience the thrill of a truly unique straitjacket session, one that promised to be exciting and exhilarating. When he received the invitation from Yohan, a reclusive collector, who claimed to have a one-of-a-kind straitjacket, Nat couldn’t resist. Yohan described it as “inescapable,” and for Nat, it was the ultimate challenge.

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Story

Chain Gang – Part 09

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By slaveobjectx

I tell this story yet I have no name. I am addressed only as slave. I said I would survive but now I will tell you how I did. I had battened myself down in isolation, indifferent to the sufferings of my fellow slaves, concentrating solely on dealing with my own fate, feeling that help from any one else would not be forthcoming. Not from the guards, of course, who at best carried out their duties indifferently – I, as slave was merely livestock and they had received enough training to regard all the chained slaves as livestock, with no need to deal with us as anything but subhuman, owned animals. At worst the guards regarded us as outlets for their own private passions – to punish, to mistreat , to abuse, to debase, to degrade, to humiliate, to fuck.

Yes, I had resolved to survive; to find an inner strength that would see me through all that they could throw at me. I would not be subhuman; I would not be an animal. Though I might not be permitted to exhibit it in terms of physical behaviour, I would not allow them to take over my mind. I’d conform outwardly but inwardly I’d be free. Yeah, great thoughts but how to make those thoughts real? Everything conspired against that – the inhumanity of my physical position where there was no escape in any way from the reality of the chains and shackles; the treatment from the guards which was expressly designed to degrade, humiliate, prompting, at best, a desire to comply with every order, no matter how vile so that the idea of choice was eliminated. We were being programmed to become robotic in all responses, robotic in all our behaviour.

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Story

The Test Guy

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By slickchaser

My friend Gerry and I had grown a little apart; from the “first load up” story I still frequented his playroom, and he continued to make me develop with giving blowjobs, being teased and prodded in various scenarios, and learning to love tight and strict bondage as needed. Though I had moved further away, we still would setup occasional meetups, including at a convention where he introduced me to getting measured for my first full latex suit, and a new guy local to him, “Jay” for this story. Gerry insisted I come back around once my suit was done in a couple weeks and visit Jay, he had something new he thought I’d get some joy out of.

We made plans, and about 2 months later I made the trip down. My new black latex suit was shipped directly to Jay’s house, and he and Gerry also had what they called my new “spiked” footwear ready for me. On the day I finally made it to Jay’s our conversations were brief, and there in Jay’s living room, I stripped, and they helped apply dressing lube and on the suit went. Being neck entry, it took some wiggling, but Jay and Gerry were delicate and great helping me wiggle in. They both then gradually applied the shine, and there in this living room with white tile and white walls was me in this totally blacked out second skin. Gerry and Jay both towered over me, they both being 6’ about, me at a lowly 5’7”, even feeling shorter with my shoulder length hair.

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Story

Early to Brunch

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By mclioncub

Sunday morning rolled around and I prepped myself prior to leaving for Sirs’ house.  As with every weekly visit, I am required to ensure that my cock & balls are shaved clean, my underarms and body hair is removed.  As usual, I also had to clean up my mohawk.  Sir likes the look of my mohawk so I am required to keep it at all times.  Once I cleaned up and ate some breakfast, I packed the car and headed out to Sirs’ house.

When I arrived, I was let in and I headed to the front room to put up my toy bag and prep myself for the day.  As normal, I stripped down and then put my boots back on.  That is my required uniform, naked, booted and in chastity.  The chastity device is always secured on me at all times unless Sir chooses otherwise.  In most instances, Sir will have me remove the device if He has plans for my cock and balls.  In addition, if Sir does allow me to cum, it is always followed with some form of punishment.  Sometimes mild but other times more intense.  It all depends on what is on the agenda.  Once I finished, I headed to the living room and took my kneeling position with legs spread apart and my hands interlocked behind my head.

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Story

Strongman – Part 10

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By Peter B. and Art Intelli

Chapter 10

My breath came in ragged gasps as I half-carried, half-dragged Viktor through the gnarled roots and tangled branches of the dense forest. He was barely conscious, his weight heavy against my shoulder. His once-mighty frame was so frail from starvation and dehydration, his steps sluggish.

“Viktor,” I whispered urgently, shifting my grip to keep him upright. He was too weak to continue standing on his own.

“You have to keep going.”

Viktor groaned, his head lolling to the side.

“I can’t,” he rasped. “I have nothing left.”

My grip tightened. “That’s not true. You always told me to find the strength inside myself. Now it’s your turn.”

With a weak chuckle, Viktor nodded. “Damn, throwing my own words back at me.  I taught you too well.”  He said nothing more, but I could feel the shift in him — the stubborn spark of willpower that had once made Viktor the strongest man I had ever known.

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Story

Strongman – Part 09

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By Peter B. and Art Intelli

Chapter 9

That first night after the fight, I barely slept.

I sat by the fire, my body aching from the beating Viktor and I had given each other. My ribs throbbed, my knuckles were raw, and my head was a storm of confusion.

“Stick with us, Rabbit,” Q-ball had said, clapping a heavy hand on my shoulder. “You earned your place.”

And I wanted to believe him.

He handed me a battered leather jacket with the sleeves cut off, the gang’s insignia stitched onto the back. My hands trembled as I pulled it on. The weight of it felt suffocating, but I forced a grin. I had to sell this. I had to make them believe.

Q-Ball clapped him on the back. “Atta boy! Knew you had it in you.”

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Story

Strongman – Part 08

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By Peter B. and Art Intelli

Chapter 8: Baldy Biker Initiation

I stood in the firelight, my breath still uneven.  I wiped the sweat and blood from my brow and chin.

“So, even though you tried to run, and even though I really don’t trust you, for some reason, I like you, Rabbit, so I’m gonna give you a second chance.  You beat the strongman and thus won the right to make a choice.  Either you pledge to join us, or I skin your strongman buddy alive.  And make you watch every minute of it. So I’m thinking the choice would be kinda easy.”

I knew I had to play along for now.  Give us time to get out of this somehow.

“OK.  You got me. I’m with you.”

Q-Ball paced in front of me, arms crossed, his grin sharp as a knife. “But see, Rabbit, you don’t just join the Baldies. You have to earn your place.”

The other bikers murmured in agreement, seemingly to tighten the circle around us. Their leather vests gleamed in the flickering firelight, the studs and chains reflecting like a thousand sharp teeth.

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