Category Archives: Story

Story

A Case of Mistaken Identity

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By Arrest22

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It was about noon on a Friday. I work overnights, so I was just beginning my weekend. I was flying down the highway on 680. I was wearing dark blue jeans, my Friday staple, a midnight blue polo, and birkenstocks. I changed into my sandals after hitting the gym at work.

Sometimes when the music hits, you lose track of time. In my case, I also lost track of my speedometer.

I saw the blue lights in my rearview before I heard them.

“FUCK!” I exclaimed loudly to no one.

I found a safe place to pull over. Doing so was not the easiest task as it was lunch hour on a Friday. I could hear the cop car telling me to pull over from their loud speaker. It was annoying because that’s exactly what I was trying to do.

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Story

Leather Road Trip – Part 02

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By rts

Note from Metal: This is a continuation of a long-standing story by rts. To start at the beginning, click here.

I was relieved to be getting on my Harley again. It felt weird to be sitting in my piss and sweat soaked leathers in the saddle. I’ve been in all my gear, boots and leathers for 9 days and now locked in them until I get home. The worst part is being constantly trapped in this long sleeve rubber shirt under my jacket hurting with every movement making me sore. I am filthy, smelly, with sweat, piss and stale beer. I am going to be quite the sight on this miserable trip home. It’s about 700 miles and I hope I can do it without any problems in less than 2 days.

I checked the gas and it’s pretty low. Boss told me the nearest station is just over 12 miles and pointed me down the road. I started the bike and headed out. It felt good to be riding again, taking it easy and checking the odometer. When I got to 10 miles the motor started to sputter. I nursed the throttle but only made it another mile before the tank was empty. Crap, I was alone on this empty road, I hadn’t seen another car. Hoping that Boss was right and there was only a mile to go to reach gas, I resigned myself to push my heavy bike that long mile. Lucky for me the road was flat and had no hills to deal with, but locked in my leathers it was a slow long hot sweaty struggle and I had to keep stopping to rest but finally I could see the Gas sign and managed to push the bike the last hundred yards to the pumps. I sat down on the saddle, my leathers squishing with sweat feeling 10 pounds heavy.

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Story

A Writer’s Inspiration

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By Rubrpig

I stretched and rubbed the fur on my chest and sat up in bed.  Looking at the clock I saw that I had slept late but since it was my day off, it really didn’t matter.  I got up from the pile of blankets that was my bed in the corner of my bedroom.  Since I had been collared as a part time slave/boy, all of the furniture in my apartment was off-limits unless my Sir was visiting and ordered me to join him.

I wasn’t expecting a visit from him, so I got up and walked through to the bathroom.  I squatted over the toilet and began pissing.  The piss ran out of the bottom of the steel cage on the Carrara Chastity belt that I wore and had been wearing for nearly 2 years.  I wiped the drips from the cage and then moved to the shower and bent over while reaching behind me and pulled the butt plug from my hole.  I groaned as it slid out and stood up.

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Story

The Interview

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By SlickChaser

Agent J, a recent grad of engineering at a prestigious college, was struggling to find a new job, but came into applying as a specialty agent for an international agency relying on using new tools to spy digitally on foreign targets.

The deal was simple; to be brought in the new agency for the entry level agent program, he would have to prove his loyalty in a high stress environment, mainly getting “caught” and withholding information and using mental tricks to guide his way out. His hiring superior, Agent S, informed him anytime during the next 31 days an event would unfold, and he simply needed to show he could make it through the mock event. If so, he would be selected for one of the spots and paid out a handsome bonus.

For the first few days, agent J was on pins and needles, not knowing where or how it would all unfold. After a few days, he began just going about his normal day. He had a previously scheduled appointment with an outside engineering consult, so expected for that particular day nothing would happen, and it was still day 8, pretty early in the window.

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Story

Non Stop – Part 03

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Written by ty dehner

Leather Saturday

The taste of Bryan remained with me for hours after he fucked my hole and left me gagged in the leather hood, helpless in the leather sleep sack. After such a workout, I was more tired and found some time to slumber before waking with some of the pains from being in long-term bondage. There was very little movement in the leather, as it wasn’t stretchy, and my back was getting numb from lying on it for so long without any movement. I had started soaking the leather shirt and jeans I was sweating in, as it was very warm, and the leather against my face made my breathing labored at times.

I reflected on seeing Bryan sit down in the same row as me on the plane, but I never imagined I would end up helpless in his home a few hours later. I tried to roll or move, but there was only a slight difference, as it was difficult to find a good place to lie.

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Story

Non Stop – Part 02

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Written by ty dehner

Post Flight

The heavy luggage fell upon the belt at baggage claim as people waited for their suitcases. As I watched the belt move, my mind was still filled with thoughts of my flight. The leather scent was still upon my lips from when Bryan had gagged me with his tight-fitting gloves.

After he returned from the lavatory, he was not as affectionate as he was. He did have me keep my hand on his leathered leg as he maintained his attention on his iPad. Not sure what I was expecting, but having my touch on him was creating a connection between us. That connection ended quickly after landing, and Bryan disappeared into the concourse crowd after departing from the plane. But those few hours in the air were enough to keep my mind going for a while.

As the next group of bags moved forward, I took in that leather scent again. Turning, Bryan was standing behind me. He was closer than normal as he leaned in and asked what my plans were for the rest of the day.

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Story

Non Stop – Part 01

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Written by ty dehner

Flight

Looking up from my laptop, I noticed this burly man for the first time, wearing well-worn brown leather boots, his work jeans stacked on them. He was wearing a pair of black jeans that were slightly looser than skinny jeans. The man with a dark beard but no mustache was wearing a black Carhartt jacket over a denim shirt. In his right hand, he was carrying a black Ariat duffel bag as I watched him continue down the concourse with a backpack on his shoulder.

Yeah, I’m a pig that admires guys in the right type of clothing, boots, leather or whatever. I always check what a guy is wearing on his feet. That the wearer seems to be a cowboy or redneck can also make my cock twitch. As my mind wanders while checking these guys out, I wonder if they might be a top who likes to grab a dude and bind him until he is helpless. Or perhaps the guy in jeans, boots, and a black leather jacket might be more submissive. They might want to be taken, gagged, then locked in steel restraints and used for a few hours.

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Story

Matt’s Midnight Submission Slam: The Boss’s Leather Grip

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By Matt Nemo

Aight, picture this: I’m Matt, your everyday NYC grindin’ sub dude, 28, built like a wiry punk with tats snakin’ up my arms and a collar kink that hits harder than a subway rush. Workin’ some dead-end gig in the Village, but nights? That’s when the real party’s poppin’. One Friday, I’m scrollin’ Grindr, horny as hell, when this daddy-type—call him Jax—DMs me: “You look like you need a real man to own that ass. My place. Now. Wear nothin’ but your jock.”

Heart racin’, cock twitchin’, I bolt over to his loft in Chelsea. Door swings open, and bam—Jax is this 6’4″ leather god, beard like a fuckin’ forest, harness huggin’ his ripped chest, eyes drillin’ into me like lasers. “On your knees, boy,” he growls, voice low and gravelly, makin’ my hole clench just hearin’ it. I drop, pavement burnin’ my skin from the walk, but who cares? This is sub heaven.

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