Category Archives: Story

30-Day Test Subject

By Red

I saw the advertisement on the Metalbond blog. Since I had been forced to take a month off from work because of the company’s new vacation policy, I applied. Rather than forfeit my accumulated vacation days, I decided to submit an application for 30 days in heavy chains that the advertisement on Metalbond was offering. I never expected my hastily prepared short essay would win, but I duly received a notice informing me of my being selected for a month of heavy metal prison restraint testing.

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Vasquez

By PFC Pflege

I stood up, and looked at Vasquez. I liked what I saw. I had already gagged him before I tied his ankles, so there was little left to be done. It was nearly midnight, but the unair-conditioned barracks were very warm from Hawaii’s heat, and it never really cooled off, even after the sun set. Vasquez was lying face up on the foam rubber padding which I kept on my bed.

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The Box – Part 3 – First Frustration

By Rubber Dog

The boy’s visual record of his ordeal had ended as the hood had been fitted over his head; its thickness virtually unyielding to even the smallest attempted movement of his jaw.  The shock of the massive plug had made him try to scream, but he’d not even been able to do this properly, rather instead sending a shock of pain through his jaw and neck as he involuntarily tried to throw open his mouth.

This, in turn had caused him problems with the gag, again almost choking him as it threatened to trigger his yet untamed gag reflex.  Now, for a few moments he was left alone, panting hard and testing the restraints occasionally with agitated struggles but of course he was still held firm.  Through the thickness of the hood he could just about make out the sounds of his snorting breathing from the end of the thick mouth tube, that and the slight vibration it made across the rubber of his face.

His master watched this for a few minutes: the sporadic struggling gradually became less and less frantic as the boy accepted his predicament; the coughing flecks of spit that came out of the gag; and the way the boy was trying to adjust his feet, still not yet covered in rubber, as his legs no doubt began to ache more and more from their almost rigid bondage.

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The Box – Part 2 – A First Layer

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.

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How to Kill a Superhero: A Gay Bondage Manual

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.

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The Box – Part 1

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.

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