By Mister-X / Spartan
The next day I informed my boss and my co-worker that it was on for them to come to my home that evening after work to meet my house mate and ask him where he got my clothes. During the day, my co-worker seemed interested in how I enjoyed wearing such tight clothes and whether it got me sexually excited.
By Rubber Dog
Cold, and with a desperate panic, the boy jolted back awake. He heard his breath, course ragged breaths. Darkness. Cold and damp. A hard floor, his body aching from laying on it. His skin was cold. He propped himself up with his arms, his hands feeling a tiled floor, he turned his head side to side. Looking. Nothing. Panicked. Where was he? He’d been knocked out, but where was he now?
Why did he feel so cold? He moved one hand to his jeans pocket, but just hit skin. He was naked. Cold and naked laying on a hard tiled floor, in complete darkness, his head still spinning and clouded from whatever had been on the rag.
He sat up, drew his knees to his chin and pulled his feet in. Slowly he crept backwards, inching towards something he could lean against. He found a wall, and carefully propped himself against it, getting himself used to the glassy chill of it down his naked back. Gingerly he pulled his feet in further and wrapped his arms around his knees, more for safety now than anything else.
By Pablo Greene
Chapter 1 — My Superhero Fetish
My name is Roland.
On the night of my twenty-eighth birthday, my friends took me out for dinner. We shared heaps of enchiladas, frosty bottles of beer, limes on the rim. I tossed back a couple of shots. I blew out candles on a red velvet cake, and our waitress led all of us at the table in an off-key rendition of the happy birthday song. Earlier, I had left my car at home on purpose, because I knew I would have a beer or two at the restaurant. By the time we paid the bill, I had drunk seven bottles and downed four shots. I walked home from dinner alone, comforted by the false safety provided by my cell phone and the gauzy softness of my whiskey buzz.
Continue reading How to Kill a Superhero: A Gay Bondage Manual
By Mister-X / Spartan
They took it easy on me the rest of that day. They knew what an ordeal I had just been through and that I needed some time to recuperate. The big guy and I spent the day as usual, on the cot with his cock in my rear end, shooting off every few hours.
By Rubber Dog
Part One – Knock, Knock
Mark stood in front of the door. Number 34, it said, looked like the right place, it was certainly the right road, it just didn’t look like anything special. Just someone’s house on an ordinary road. The only thing he’d noticed about it was the motorbike parked outside which he’d seen as soon as he’d turned the corner at the top of the road and started checking the house numbers.
By Quandt
I had a very erotic and somewhat frightening dream this morning just before I woke up. I want to write about it before I forget it. I think will be fantasized about or have a lasting impression for a long time.
Folsom Street Fair?
By Mister-X / Spartan
Finally after what seemed like a lifetime in there, struggling for air, I was let out of the safe. I was also removed from the tiny cage, after they removed all the chains that had been attaching me to it. Then I was let out of the chains that had been on me.
By lukex
Danny fell asleep just a few minutes later, and I lay there, tied tightly to the bed and with my face full of a load of his cum. I loved having his cum all over my face and being tied up, but I really needed to cum myself. My cock was still hard, but I couldn’t get any relief with the way he had tied me.