Category Archives: Story

Story

Starlight – Part 02

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By Raybound

The Pony Race

After meeting those two hot leather men at the bar and having a hot session with them, I never could have imagined that our next encounter would involve one of my deep secret fantasies — pony play! Here’s how it all unfolded…

The pre dawn sky was streaked with pink as I arrived home, the morning sun had not yet risen above the horizon. I was still feeling lightheaded from the effect of the endorphins that had coursed through my body like a wild river as I had endured the controlled torture of the night’s action. I went straight to bed and slept late, right through into the afternoon, breakfasting some time after three. Wild dreams filled with the images of the two leathermen had chased around my head shortly before I had woken. I put together the events of the previous night, realising that my life had been changed forever. This was one genie that I certainly didn’t want to put back in the bottle.

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Story

Men Forged in Iron, Leather, Fear, And Blood

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By Jockboy

Hour 0: More Than I Bargained For

I thought I was ready for this. Sixty-seven hours sequestered in that rotting tomb of an abandoned prison—facing down four men whose cruelty I’d worshipped and feared online, clinging to the fantasy that this was my forge, my shot at genuine mastery.

Pain isn’t new to me. My body’s been shaped by rugby scrums, USMC infantry runs, and the silence of rooms where control passes on the snap of a cuff or the thud of a paddle. I’m built thick, a compact fortress: broad chest with the striations of hundreds of bench presses, shoulders like capped stone, hands calloused from rifles and barbells and uncounted deadlifts.

My shins and knees bear the roadmap of old wounds—rugby studs, gravel pits, forced marches—etched in white ridges and purpled, weathered skin.

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Story

The Firemans Union – Part 01

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By Felon

I had always had a thing for Cops and Firemen. This story goes back to the early ’90s. There is a cruise area in a large park near where I live. At certain times of the day you can find men with a need to unload — usually mornings and early evenings. I had made a habit of cruising this area on the way to work in the morning. A regular visitor to the park in a classic Olds Rivera would frequently be at the park in the am.

I had no idea who drove the car. One day while walking down a path I spotted a burly but not muscular man in jeans and a blue work shirt. He was leaving when I was arriving. It turns out he was the classic car driver. I began to see him on a regular basis warming through the woods, he always seemed to keep to himself. This went on for weeks. One night on the way home I spotted the car parked in a lot at the fire station. I kept an eye on that station and one warm night he was sitting on the front bumper of the engine with the garage doors open. Now he really had my attention. I know he spotted me staring at him.

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Story

It started with Mitts – Part 19-4

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By Bondagegimp

We need to talk

After a while, Bob gets up, grabs one of the chains attached to the bed, attaches it to my collar, and goes into the tiled room. I hear the shower and lie on the bed, lost in my thoughts. The plug in my hole is pressing hard. I’ve certainly had larger plugs in me before, even a fist, but anything larger was only for a short time. Something this size for a longer period is a new challenge. I can feel my body trying to push the intruder out, but the crotch strap presses it relentlessly into my hole.

Every attempt to push the plug out only makes its presence more obvious and harder to bear. Then there’s the cock cage, the diaper on top, the suit made of strong nylon fabric, and finally the mesh of sturdy leather straps that constrict my lower abdomen into a thick, tight package.

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Story

A Custom Built Isolation Cell

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By Scribe

I am quite proud of the dungeon I have built in my basement. I have a cross, bondage table, doggy cage, and sling together with the usual equipment; hoods, sleepsack, restraints, floggers, and whips. The problem is, my visits with an available dom are infrequent. My bondage equipment requires that someone else secures me and releases me. I never get as much bondage and punishment as I would like.

Consequently, I read with interest an ad from Discipline Technologies offering to build a prison cell in my own home. I could imprison myself without any help and remain incarcerated for up to two weeks before being released, again without outside assistance.

I requested additional details and received a packet of information illustrating designs and options. The cost was substantial but the product looked very exciting, much beyond any bondage I had ever experienced.

I chose what DT called a pit cell. The cell would be in my basement dungeon but entry would be from a trap door built into the floor from the bedroom above.

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Story

The Shackles of Curiosity – Part 03

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By Peter B. and Art Intelli

“I know that I am the one who can remove your Shackles. But before I do, you must prove yourself worthy. You will be my Apprentice,” Tony commanded. “And you will show me total Obedience and Submission. If I tell you to move, you will move. If I tell you to kneel, you will kneel. And if I tell you to suck…”

“Fuck you!” Peter blurted out, although from being naked and in chains, and actually brutally attracted to Tony, he didn’t really mean it.

“No, Houdini. Fuck YOU! If you ever want any hope of getting those fetters off of you, you will obey my every command and satisfy every whim. You got it?”

“Yes,” Peter murmured.

“Yes, Master! Apprentices serve their Master!”

Continue reading The Shackles of Curiosity – Part 03 →

Story

The Fifth Man

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By Cuffed Locked

I didn’t expect to end up in chains. But thinking back, I probably should’ve seen it coming. It started a few weeks before with a lawnmower and a stupid joke that I took seriously.

My name is Nathan “Nate” Keller, and about a month back I was out cutting my front yard. It was one of those hot Saturday mornings where the sun bakes the sidewalk and you question all your life choices. That’s when Grant Mason, my neighbor, a hot firefighter, leaned over his porch railing with his usual beer in hand and said, “Hey Keller, when you’re done with yours, why don’t you do mine next?”

He said it like a joke. I laughed like it was one.

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Story

It started with Mitts – Part 19-3

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By Bondagegimp

Jad and Tom

Speechless, I stare at the cell door. In the end, it all happened so quickly. With my last glance, I saw Jad lying chained to the table, struggling against the gag and mask, writhing, with the plug in his hole. His strong, muscular body, completely in black rubber, only his cock sticking out and Doggy playing with it. Jad, the macho, now just a defenseless, whimpering piece of rubber, overcome by his own lust. What a transformation.

So we leave them both behind. Bob doesn’t give me any time, dragging me along by the chain. On the way, he stops briefly in another room, gets a simple rubber muzzle without a gag, and puts it on me. We continue up the stairs to the living room. There we lie down on the couch again and watch the two of them via the CCTV. Jad is still resisting his restraints, but with a palpable resignation. Doggy continues to use his relative freedom to work Jad all over his body with his mouth, especially Jad’s cock.

Continue reading It started with Mitts – Part 19-3 →