Category Archives: Story

Story

Chain Gang – Part 07

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By slaveobjectx

Urinal

Having a ring inserted in my nose was only the first of the piercings — but it was the one that broke me. All the rest? The nipples, scrotum, ball sack, Prince Albert? These things… just happened to me. It’s not that I didn’t feel them — of course I did with nothing to dull the pain. But the mind dulls the pain when you have been so thoroughly dehumanised as I had been — you go onto another plane, another level of consciousness. You kinda float above it all, like your mind soars up to the ceiling and looks down at what is happening. It’s you down there and yet not you — a physical you, just a body. That’s how you survive, that’s how you get by, that’s how you survive and endure all the whippings and kicking and slaps and cattle prods that lie before you. You learn to get into that space.

It’s been forced on you now — simply because of the unrelenting nature of it — a piercing, another and another — all without regard for any feeling you might have. But if you’re smart you learn the lesson. They’ve taken you to a place you can retreat to when the going gets rough — into a place that rises above the pain and the humiliation. They’ve shown you how to survive this hell-hole.

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Story

Sadistic Blacksmith

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By Art Intelli

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the dusty yard outside the blacksmith’s forge. The clang of hammer on metal echoed, sharp and unforgiving. Inside the forge, the heat was almost unbearable, the air thick with the acrid scent of burning coal.

The blacksmith, a burly man with arms like tree trunks and a face set in a permanent scowl, worked with practiced precision. His hands, rough and scarred from years of toil, moved with surprising dexterity as he heated the iron rivets to a glowing red. He glanced up, his eyes narrowing at the sight of his latest task.

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Story

Copdar – Grocery Store Guards

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By Cuffsandcops

The grocery store at the bottom of the hill has become a gold mine for getting cuffed. I know it sounds strange, but it’s true. Over the summer I began noticing a security guard was posted up near the self-checkouts. He is a big dude, 6-foot-5, probably 300 pounds of thickness. He wore most of his gear on his vest and had a weapon on his hip. I tend to shop later in the evening when there aren’t many other customers.

One night as I entered the store I saw the guard looking at the case of donuts and baked goods. I approached him and asked what kind of cuffs he was carrying. He pulled a pair of black chain cuffs from the front of his vest. They didn’t look like Peerless or Smith and Wesson but were along those lines. I asked if I could experience being cuffed. He looked at me funny.

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Story

Look at Me, slave

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By boyryan54

Boyryan54I am trembling. My shoulders and back are aching, and my knees screaming from the stress position. Hunched over in the cage, arms behind my back in a rubber arm binder, pulled up and attached to the top of the cage. The top of my muzzle is secured to the top front of the cage by what I am guessing is some rope, ensuring my body leans forward. My legs folded on themselves, secured with thick rubber belts over my rubbered body.

I have been mewing and mumbling into the gag in my mouth, but not sure how much is being heard due to the muzzle over my hooded head. The blindfold and ear plugs ensuring all my senses are heightened, and I moan as I feel a bead of sweat roll down by back between the rubber and my skin.

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Story

Biker Becomes Guard Dog

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By Art Intelli

The moon cast a silver hue over the quiet suburban neighborhood. The only sound was the soft rustle of leaves in the cool night breeze. A figure in black leather slinked through the shadows, eyes darting to and fro. The biker thug, his face hidden behind a bandana, crept up to the back door of a modest house. He pulled out a set of lock-picking tools and set to work. Within moments, the door clicked open, and he slipped inside.

The interior was dark, but the biker’s night-vision was honed from years of experience. He moved silently, like a panther stalking its prey, unaware that he was the one being hunted.

Suddenly, a light flicked on, blinding him momentarily. He blinked rapidly, his eyes adjusting to see a tall, imposing figure standing in the doorway, a gun trained on him.

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Story

The Caged Pornstar

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By BondageChallengeGames

The trucker had snagged a good one. A pornstar famed for his big cock, huge loads, and ability to cum multiple times in a row. He’d be perfect. The trucker had driven out to Vegas, where the pornstar was currently working. After some internet searches and stalking, he’d found the apartment he was staying at and walked up to the door with a large package under his arm. He sat the package down.

The trucker knocked on the door, it was early in the morning. He knocked again. Then again. Finally, a tired and clearly frustrated man opened the door. The pornstar had wrapped himself up in a blanket to meet this unexpected early visitor. The trucker, dressed in a UPS outfit, held a clipboard up to the pornstar.

“I need you to sign this”

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Story

Ten

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By slavebladeboi

We were about as close as two people can get without actually living together.

His legs were spread and tied to rings set in the floor, his arms strapped to the front legs of the bench. He looked so fucking good.

I felt his hole grip tighter on my cock as I lunged into him again. He groaned as much as he physically could with that huge dick gag strapped on and the layers of duct tape I’d wound tightly around his head. Not sure if it was pleasure or pain. I reached round under the narrow bench on which he was tied face down and felt his balls and erection sticking through the hole I’d made in exactly the right spot for that purpose. I couldn’t get anything like a grip as he was oozing with precum making everything super slippery, so I simply edged him with a few strokes.

Pleasure then.

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Story

Chain Gang – Part 06

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By slaveobjectx

Cattle

But there was still more to come, even worse and more humiliating were such a thing possible. At first, they apparently wanted to continue the fettering procedure. Already the blacksmith was searching for some chains to interconnect my fetters. But one of the guards intervened. ‘No. Leave it. We’re better to ring him and mark him first and do that afterwards. That’s easier.’

I didn’t understand what he meant by that, but I soon would, and I assure you, I was happier not knowing. Still lying on the ground with my new heavy collar and cuffs, I now was ordered to get up. It took a few seconds before I managed to stand up. Then both warders roughly took an arm of mine and marched me across the room, in the direction of the oven where the blacksmith already waited for me.

Not knowing what was going to come, I didn’t resist for the time being, so I was hauled before him again with little difficulty. There the blacksmith stood next to a strange chair and a small table, on which were lying a lot of round iron rings, all of the same size and form, half an inch thick and with a total diameter of some two-and-a-half inches. As I could see in the dim light all rings were not wholly circular, and so not wholly complete; just a very small fragment was missing, so the rings were, so to say, ‘open.’

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