By lostouteast
The clippers buzzed as they came to life. The sound seemed to trigger a new spirit of resistance in Jimmy, who thrashed with new vigor while a garbled tirade spewed from his mouth along with a fresh batch of drool. It was minimal movement, to be sure, but just enough to annoy John, who clicked the power switch loudly, as if silencing the clippers to make a point.
“You keep this bitching and moaning up, and I swear, I’ll take your damn eyebrows, too.”
Note from the author: The below work is erotic bondage fiction. I am not affiliated with Mister S. Leather in any way (although I can’t say I wouldn’t want this to happen to me). The story contains strong sexual content, and readers should not read if they are under 18 or otherwise prohibited.
A SLAVE’S TOUR OF THE MISTER S. LEATHER SHOP
By Phil Larson, Twitter: @tiemeupphil84
I have an addiction. And it’s porn blogging. It started a couple years ago when I discovered tumblr. Late to the game as usual, but I found the stuff people would blog so intensely hot. It started to replace going to the computer to get off. The more I blogged, the more I enjoyed it. Soon, I had more and more people following me and something else got me off, seeing pictures of people going balls to the wall with their inner slut and posting their own content.
At first I was too scared to, but as much as it frightened me, it excited my 7-and-a-half inch cock even more. I started to rationalize in my head. “I’ve posted stuff to dating websites before,” but there’s something more public about this. Eventually my dick got the better of me and I posted some photos of me in bondage.
Continue reading A Slave’s Tour of the Mister S. Leather Shop
By Mister-X / Spartan
“It will look awesome!”
“I agree. It will look awesome. But you will feel like you’re in a sauna.”
“I don’t care. I want to do it.”
“Okay. But once you’re in that, you’re not coming out until the event is over. Understood?”
“I’m willing.”
“You always say that beforehand, but after a few minutes you want out. I’m not letting you out until the event is over.”
“Okay. Agreed. Just keep me in what I’ve told you I want to be in.”
By lostouteast
“John?!”
SMACK. Jimmy barely saw the hand that struck his face before he found himself looking downwards and to the left.
“That’s not something you get to call me anymore.”
“What the fuck are y-”
SMACK.
“From now on, you speak only when given permission to do so, and the first and last words out of your mouth will be, ‘Sir’ or ‘Master.’”
Jimmy’s ears were ringing, half from the two slaps he had just received, and half from rage. Before he could fully contemplate whether to make another mistake by speaking again, he felt a fist take hold of his hair and jerk his head upwards. Jimmy felt something rubbery pressed up against his lips, and, anticipating another gagging, clamped his mouth shut.
“Still fighting it … Even now …”
By Lycralad71
I am a bit of a gym jock. I go to the gym regularly, and I like to work out with weights and cardio. I’m quite proud of the body I’ve built up, and I like to show it off at the gym by wearing UA Lycra tights and tops. Some might say that I am vain, but I am not as big as some guys; I would say that I have an athletic build.
I go to a 24-hour gym. From 9 pm Friday it’s only manned by one staff member, and it’s usually quiet. I went in at about 9:30. I planned to spend a couple of hours there, my usual hour of lifting heavy weights and then an hour of cardio interval training.
At 11:30 I got off the treadmill sweating and headed to the changing room lockers, where I had left my car keys. I never get changed in there, as I like to arrive in my gym gear. I suppose I like the attention from the other gym members. As I opened my locker I felt a cloth across my mouth from behind. Then everything went black …
By lostouteast
Jimmy had no idea where he was being taken. That was far from the most immediate thought on his mind, however. The tight ball tie that he had been put in had begun to put considerable strain on his muscles, and his entire body was in open mutiny. His muscle cramps developed muscle cramps as every attempt at movement was foiled by the leather straps connecting his biceps to his thighs and the chains that unyieldingly connected his wrists to his ankles.
The duffle bag he had been stuffed in tightly encapsulated his body as the stench of a cum and piss soaked jock strap, stale socks and a sweat saturated pair of bike shorts permeated his compact prison. Jimmy was acutely aware of the rubber penis pressing against his tongue, as well as the tight leather hood that hugged his face and robbed him of his vision. But more than anything else, he was aware of his cock, which oozed a constant stream of precum with every bump in the road.
By lostouteast
Jimmy slowly came to. At least he thought he did. He wasn’t sure for a moment, as despite his open eyes, his world was dark. Jimmy’s head was throbbing, but as he reflexively tried to move his right hand towards his forehead, he felt a tug on his left wrist, and what appeared to be the cold unyielding grip of metal. As he tried to form the words, “what the fuck?” his tongue met a firm, yet supple material; something was filling his mouth and reducing his attempts at speech to muffled grunts. Jimmy soon found out that sitting up was an equally futile exercise. Wherever he had been lying unconscious for god knows how long, he could only lift his head about a foot before hitting what appeared to be a metal ceiling. He could feel his arms brushing against the bare skin of his torso; he was naked.
By Miles Pierce
(Author’s note: I was sent this by a trusted academic who wanted to make sure this was known but couldn’t professionally be associated with it.)
Note on the translation: this section of the portfolio seems to have originally been published by a Venetian printer by the name of Aldus Manutius. Due to the issues of this work being referenced by many sources in many nationalities, the original language cannot be verified and due to subsequent censorship and destruction of all known copies, may never be known. We do know it was both highly sought after and scandalous even at the time of publication. The language in this fragment has been modernized, when possible, for the ease of consumption by contemporary scholars.
It was these two days of brutality that utterly and entirely broke me.
The diligent reader will realize that my captivity had many moments that offered nothing but dejection. The slaughter of many of the men under my leadership, the capture, debasement and disbursement of the remainder of my party, the auction house, my first taste of the whip, harness training and the initial cruel sexual attacks on my person where all crushing. This cascade of misery, though, tore hope from my being.
Continue reading Selected Remnants From the Lost Publication ‘My Two Years in Captive Servitude’