Category Archives: Story

Story

7 Days in Berlin – Part 12

Leave a comment

Note: This is a continuation of a long running story. To start at the very beginning, click here.

By Takeo

Day 4 – Friday June 14th – An Unexpected Morning

I am still on this rock face that seems endless. My harness is a little too tight and is rubbing against my thighs. But I cannot adjust it now, I need both hands to keep climbing. I’m starting to feel my muscles; it must be three hours since I started the climb. The air is hot and heavy, despite the altitude, and I’m sweating profusely. My hands are clammy. I’m no expert climber, but I enjoy it and am starting to gain quite a bit of experience. This route is clearly the most challenging I have tackled so far. Perhaps too challenging. I hope I can make it to the top without too much trouble. There is no escape route on this climb; once you start, you have to continue to the end.

My thighs hurt and I need a break. I fix one last piton, attach my short rope to it with a carabiner and gently let myself sit down in my harness. I shake both arms to relax them. I drink a little and enjoy the landscape. The mountains are magnificent at this time of year. The snow is not far off, and this will probably be the last outing before the start of the ski season. I take advantage of this break to adjust my harness. I place my feet against the wall and stretch my legs to relieve the tension on the thigh straps. I loosen the one on my right leg slightly, then do the same on the left.

Continue reading 7 Days in Berlin – Part 12 →

Story

Iron Range – Part 03

2 Comments

By Linc

The farm was finally quieting down. Harvest was done, irrigation lines rolled up, and the air carried the crisp bite of change. Days still started early, but they didn’t run long. Not anymore. Jack found himself restless. Not from lack of sleep, not from too much work, but from too little to do. So when Ethan asked if he wanted a ride into town, Jack didn’t hesitate. He jumped at the chance, the belt by now as familiar as his boots.

Ethan gave him a look, glancing to Jack’s waist then chin tipping toward the main house in a silent question. Jack just shrugged, and hopped in the truck.  he ten-mile drive went by in a blink. They stopped at the bar around half past six after picking up provisions for the coming weeks. They had a beer each, enjoying the quiet hum of the place. An hour in, Ethan glanced toward the window, then back to Jack. “I’m heading home. You want to stay awhile?”

Jack considered it, weighing the quiet of the farm against the possibility of something—anything—different. “Yeah. I’ll stay a bit.”

Ethan gave a small nod. “Text when you’re ready.”

Continue reading Iron Range – Part 03 →

Story

Lost No More – Part 01

1 Comment

By OKLASH

You crawl in bed with me upon my beckon and I lay you down on your stomach. Your sobs of anguish have subsided to free-flowing tears, and you tremble as I lay close to you. I run one fingernail across the angry welts on your back. “Relax,” you hear me say, “and let go. The hard part is behind you for now.”

This moment is unscripted if perhaps preordained by that part of your soul that still resides in your past, where “freedom” was another word for “lost.”

Continue reading Lost No More – Part 01 →

Story

Discipline Training Institute Part 5 – The Origin Story

3 Comments

Fiction by JockBoy

The Punishment Room
You kneel on the cold concrete of Room 101—the Punishment Room. Gray walls stretch around you, scarred and unforgiving. Overhead lamps cast harsh, surgical shadows. Hooks, ropes, whips, and leather straps line the walls; stainless-steel dog bowls gleam on the floor.

The air is thick—sweat, dust, disinfectant, and leather cling to your skin and fill your nostrils. Every sound—the shuffle of knees, shallow breaths, faint whimpers—echoes like a drum of dread.

“Blessed be the fruit,” one of the watchers whispers nearby. The words hang heavy in the still air. It is a ritual phrase, steeped in echoes so ancient it was once used by an overrated novelist in a famous book many pretended to have read when they had only watched the movie. But like everything in this dystopian world, it has been turned upside down. Now it serves as a chilling invocation, binding bodies and wills alike.

Continue reading Discipline Training Institute Part 5 – The Origin Story →

Story

Discipline Training Institute – Part 4: Disciplining the Drill Instructor

Leave a comment

Fiction by JockBoy

Verbal Humiliation
The Drill Instructor’s first weapon strikes the mind, not the flesh. Flesh heals. Pride does not. Identity must be gutted before the whip or paddle falls.

Execution:

Stand close. Control trainee’s space. Own his breath.

Target manhood, self-worth, illusions of strength

Match insults with whip, rope, or paddle so body and mind collapse together

Whisper softly, break suddenly into bark. The rhythm destabilizes, unbalances, and strips confidence.

Degradation Phrases   (Rotation):

“You’ll never earn respect. Only bruises.”

“You beg for punishment because you aren’t man enough to handle  freedom.”

“Your father won’t spit on you when he finds out what you’ve become. He’ll piss on you.”

“You’re a pervert who feeds on humiliation. That’s the only reason you’re here.”

“Look down. Dust and boot leather—that’s your place.”

“You live to kneel; you’ll never lead.”

“Big muscles, small cock. Hard every time I yell at you. Weak. Pathetic.”

Continue reading Discipline Training Institute – Part 4: Disciplining the Drill Instructor →

Story

Discipline Training Institute – Part 3: The Transformation

3 Comments

Fiction by JockBoy

I never thought I would answer a letter like that. The envelope was plain, sealed with a black insignia. I turned it in my hands, feeling its weight pressing down, tightening an unseen band around my chest. Fear or craving—I couldn’t tell which—compelled me to open it.

The Discipline Training Institute was no gym, no boot camp. It was a crucible—a furnace—to strip men bare, to burn off their pride and forge obedience in scarred muscle and shattered will. Its creed was clear: absolute obedience. Relentless effort. No excuses.

At first, I couldn’t see why Collins—the friend who knew my every laugh and bruise—had pushed so hard. But now I saw: he had walked its fires. The letter he sent, a desperate lifeline, never reached me. Instead, his will found me here.

Continue reading Discipline Training Institute – Part 3: The Transformation →

Story

Discipline Training Institute Part 2: The Trainer and The Trainee

4 Comments

Fiction by JockBoy

[TOP SECRET // DTI-OPS]

Acquisition File: QB‑117
Classification: ALPHA‑RED TARGET
[DTI-QB117-SEC1] SURVEILLANCE DOSSIER

Compiled By: Collegiate Acquisition Branch
Source Reliability: HIGH (Informant: Coach R.H. – compromised under threat of exposure)

PHYSICAL PROFILE:

Exceptional size and contact-sport build, with upper and lower body musculature surpassing elite collegiate benchmarks.

Commanding physical presence and posture that demand respect.

False public image crafted around perceived power and leadership,

In communal showers, his prominent physique and penis size become focal points of silent envy and scrutiny.

Uses appearance to dominate teammates

Continue reading Discipline Training Institute Part 2: The Trainer and The Trainee →

Story

Discipline Training Institute – Part 1: Recruitment

5 Comments

Fiction by JockBoy

What if the savage world of ruthless discipline you crave isn’t just your fantasy, but your destiny—a sentence you cannot escape? The Discipline Training Institute is calling—and you WILL belong inside.

Wouldn’t it be something if a place like this truly existed—a hidden institute built for strong men like you with unspoken, darker cravings? It always begins the same way: a message appears in your inbox. You are lured into a world where your false hyper-masculinity is shattered, leaving you broken and born anew as something you don’t understand but can never escape.  

This is labeled fiction. But fiction is a fragile disguise. It can conceal what should never be spoken, distort what should be clear, or comfort you while quietly smuggling in truths too sharp to admit. Sometimes a “story” is the only vessel strong enough to carry truth and reality.

Continue reading Discipline Training Institute – Part 1: Recruitment →