Category Archives: Story

Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 12

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By lthr_jock

Without thinking, Clark stood up which made Greg curse angrily and use his crop on Clark’s leathered arse. Clark reflexively knelt down again and flushed bright red as Vickers laughed. Greg glared down at him and paused before looking back up at Vickers.

“Hold on, did you just call him Samuel?”

Vickers grinned an evil little smile and nodded. Greg let out a roar of laughter which made several people close by look up from their own conversations.

“You mean to tell me that the man I have been pestering you about for 2 months is right here kneeling at my feet.”

Vickers joined in the laugher. “Yes – and from the look of it Samuel has had quite the evening.”

Greg chuckled and stroked Clarks hair, ignoring the increasingly urgent grunts that were coming from the restrained man.

“Damn. I’ve wanted to get him into some of my gear for ages. See – I was right – it suits him.”

“I never doubted it would.”

“MPPPHHH!”

Greg didn’t look down, just rapped the tip of his crop against the faceplate of Clark’s muzzle. “Quiet, boi, your betters are talking.”

Clark ignored this and continued to grunt into the gag. Greg frowned at him and with one hand behind Clarks head, used the other one to pinch his nose shut. Clark then realised how secure he was trussed up as he struggled vainly within the straitjacket, his booted feet slipping on the floor. He could get some air in past the gag in his mouth, but his struggles increased his need for air and Gregs control over his nose meant that he couldn’t get it. He struggled harder and harder until Greg released his grip. He gasped air in through his nose, coughing and spluttering around the drool in his mouth. Greg knelt down so that he could hear him whisper.

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Story

The Convict – Part 18

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By Joshua Ryan

Documents Relating to Convict 353308 Rossetti, Jason Scott

Inmate, Southern Regional Longterm Correctional Facility

 

Document 1

 

DATE:

011319

 

SENDER:

351699 Cleveland

Inmate, SRLCF

 

RECIPIENT:

Mrs. Heather Johnston

1112 Detroit Street

Milestone IN

 

STATUS:

Approved for Transmission

 

***CONVICT TRANSMISSIONS NOT TO EXCEED 400 WORDS***

 

Dear Sis,

I’m sorry I haven’t written to you, its been very busy here. You remember how I said I didnt have a cellmate? Well now I’ve got one. Too bad, eh? Not really. His name is Jason and I like him a lot. He was in college so I guess I’m sort of in over my head, but he’s teaching me a lot of stuff. :-)

Thanks for the birthday gift, which they finaly gave me. You know they only let us have a couple books at a time, so I had to get rid of one of my books before they gave me another one. Big deal, huh? I like that story about the guy that had everything except the one thing he really wanted to have. But listen, the next time you send something I wish youd send me a big book about science, cause Jason is gonna teach me that. (He didn’t say so but he is.) I want to learn about astronnomy so try that. I always liked stars.

Well its Sunday night and I gotta be at the office early tomorrow morning. (Smile) Anyway it’s time for me to sign off for now.

Write soon,

Jacob

Convict #351699

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Story

Arrested and Jailed

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By Mister-X/Spartan

Russ looked at the time and realized he hadn’t eaten dinner yet. He lived alone, but was at work and didn’t feel like going home to fix dinner. He decided to walk down to the fast food joint a couple of blocks away. They had a Tuesday night special going. As he was about halfway there, he heard a car screech to a halt behind him and a couple of guys rush out toward him. They looked like policemen. He looked around to see what they could be going to, but couldn’t see anything else where he was standing. By then they’d come up to him and stopped.

“Russell Smith?”

“Yes. Why?”

“We have a warrant for your arrest. Walk over to our car and put your hands up against it while you spread your legs and arms.”

Russ knew that he was going to be arrested and jailed at some time, but he didn’t know when it would be. As he was standing there he started thinking about what he had ahead of him in the next few days that he wouldn’t be here to take care of.

“Move it!” The guy started pushing Russ over to the car. Soon Russ had assumed the correct position and he was being patted down. Other passersby were looking over at the scene. Soon one of Russ’ wrists was brought behind his back and a handcuff was ratcheted on, the back of his hand facing where the other would soon be. This was followed by the other. The back door of the sedan was opened and Russ was ‘helped’ to sit inside. The door was closed and the two got into the front seat. Russ had been aroused by hearing the creaking leather of the officer, as well as being put into the cuffs.

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Story

The Convict – Part 17

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By Joshua Ryan

“This is Officer Nolan,” he said to his cellphone. “Open A292.” I heard the bars slide back.

“Inside, convict.”

I opened my eyes. There was a gap in the bars. The cell door was open. It wasn’t very wide. It was just the gate to a cage. I could tell that I’d have to tilt my bedroll to get it through. I lifted one side, maneuvering it. I would have to be careful not to let anything drop . . .

Then I saw it.   There was something long and thick lying on the lower bunk, something brown that was shaped like a man. There were letters and numbers stamped on its surface.   It was a convict, lying face down in my cell. Wait a minute! Couldn’t the officer see that the place was already full?

I almost blurted that out. Then I remembered: there were two convicts stuffed in all those other cells. That bundle of clothes on the bunk was only one convict. I was the other one.

I stopped in the doorway. I was scared to wake up that thing on the metal shelf. Jesus, it was dark in there, especially after the spotlight I’d faced outside. I could see a naked lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, but it wasn’t turned on. The only light was the gray stuff leaking in from the walkway. That was enough for me to see that the whole cell wasn’t much larger than a medium-sized closet. It was a lot smaller than my bathroom at home. What used to be my home. Half the cell was bunks, one shelf above the other on the right side, against the wall. A lot of the rest was toilet — a metal toilet squatting against the back wall, a toilet without a seat, with something that looked like a little sink built into the top of it. The thing was gleaming at me in the faint light. Christ! I thought. They wash in the shitter. A wave of contempt ran through me. Probably one of them crapped while the other one washed his face in the crapper. They were like cats in a cage, with a little litterbox all their own. And now I was one of them.

Continue reading The Convict – Part 17 →

Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 11

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By lthr_jock

Clark reacted with shock as they headed towards the door – surely Greg didn’t mean to parade him in public like this. He held back and the leash tightened. Without looking around, Greg yanked on it and Clark felt his upper half jerk forward. He tried to brace himself but something made him lose his balance and he staggered forward. Greg turned as Carl burst out laughing. “Greg, you were right. Those boots work a treat.”

Clark looked down with confusion – the boots looked just like the heavy boots he had seen skinheads wearing in the street. But for some reason they felt slippery and unstable under his feet and he had to concentrate to keep his balance on them. Carl picked up another pair of the boots and turned them around so Clark could see the soles. Instead of a normal heel, they had a 2” heel on them and instead of a thick rubber tread they were smooth. “You see, the heel puts your balance off and the slippery sole makes it easy to pull you further off balance. We call them the Slave-maker.” Greg frowned and Carl continued “Ok, the name is a work in progress, but lucky you, you get to road test them for us.”

Greg yanked on the leash again and Clark stepped carefully towards the door. He was having to concentrate on where he was stepping and was taking steps so small that the boot shackles were almost irrelevant. Before he realised it, they were at the lifts. Greg stood there, tapping his crop against his boot with impatience. He turned to face Clark with a wicked grin on his face “You know what, let’s take the stairs.” Clark tried to complain but the gag filled his mouth stopping him and he could do little except hobble along behind Greg as the leather clad man tugged him towards the stairs.

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Story

The Wall – Part 02

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By slavebladeboi

They walked back to their apartment together. Like most 19-year-olds he was used to feeling confident. Confident about his sexuality, his life choices and his future, but this evening he felt none of those things. He wanted an arm round his shoulder and a protective embrace from his partner for no other reason but to feel him there. He asked for both and got them with no hesitation albeit a question.

“Is something wrong man?”

“No, it’s just, well…. No nothing.”

“Come on, open up, I’ve seen that look before, always when you want me to agree to something you don’t think I’m gonna like.”

“Those marks. The ones on my wrists, I don’t know how they got there. Or rather I do, but I don’t.”

“Well thanks for making sense, you sure you’re feeling ok?”

He pulled away from the comforting arm and faced the other, slightly taller man.

“Yes. I’m fine. I think. Let’s get indoors.”

They had reached the steps leading up to the front door of their building, slid the key in the lock and went into the elevator. Once inside their apartment he fell onto the couch and sighed.

“Well?”

“OK. Just hear me out. I know this will sound strange but go with me for a while here.”

His partner sat opposite him and leaned forward. The story came out in one long unbroken monologue. All the details, the guy, the car, the wall, the fucking and waking up in the bar.

Continue reading The Wall – Part 02 →

Story

Time Flies When You’re Having Fun

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By Bondagekid94

Everything has been discussed – we are aware of limits and what each other enjoys, but I do not know the finer details of what is to come. We have only chatted online, and this will be the first time that we meet in person.

The intercom buzzes, signifying your arrival. It is early. I’m still groggy as I’ve not long woken up. All my gear and toys are laid out as requested, and I go and open the front door. No time for niceties, I am taken into my bedroom and ordered to strip.

I am ordered to put myself in my rubber, first shorts, then socks and gloves, then full catsuit. Once this is all on, it’s padlocked closed. This is followed by a gas mask and then I am led to the sleepsack, which is waiting, open, for my rubber-clad body to be sealed inside. As the zips tighten up my body and my arms slip into the internal sleeves, I am now helpless. There is no escape.

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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 10

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By lthr_jock

Vickers placed a small set of steps behind Clark and went up the couple of steps he needed to so that he could talk to the restrained male.

“OK, Samuel, so here’s the plan. You can still move your hands inside the rubber, so when you want a drink just make a fist with your left hand. Try it now.” He looked down and saw Clark make a fist and then release it to once again show his hand splayed out between the two sheets of rubber.

“Good. Now you’re going to be here for quite a while – so if you absolutely HAVE to get out I want you to clench your right hand. Do it now so I know you’ve understood me.” He looked down and confirmed the movement. “Excellent. Oh – one thing. If you insist on leaving before the end of the show, you don’t get any money taken off your debt.” Vickers chuckled at the outraged grunts from inside the rubber. “Now, now, Samuel, that’s no way to talk to the man who isn’t chained in a rubber vac rack. So, make a fist if you understand.” After a short pause, the man did so. “Good. Now, I just need to polish you up.” He looked up and saw that some other stall holders were wandering around before the official opening and were already paying his display some attention.

Vickers got out the rubber gloss and started spraying it over Clarks restrained form. He could see Clark shudder – as much as he could – as the spray chilled the rubber and he then went over it with a clean duster. His light strokes soon turned the already gleaming rubber into a shiny, almost iridescent surface that reflected the lights set up around the hall. He heard a murmur of appreciation from behind him and looked over his shoulder to see that the group of fellow exhibitors was growing. He paid some attention to Clark’s crotch. The mans already hard cock was pointing straight up his towards his navel and a few delicate rubs with the cloth made it stand out even more. He noticed Clark’s right hand briefly clench and then relax as the big man gave in to the situation. Clark’s cock looked even bigger outlined and defined by the rubber and Vickers looked forward to a time when he would be able to get his mouth around it.

Continue reading Busman’s Holiday – Part 10 →