Category Archives: Story

The Test Guy

By slickchaser

My friend Gerry and I had grown a little apart; from the “first load up” story I still frequented his playroom, and he continued to make me develop with giving blowjobs, being teased and prodded in various scenarios, and learning to love tight and strict bondage as needed. Though I had moved further away, we still would setup occasional meetups, including at a convention where he introduced me to getting measured for my first full latex suit, and a new guy local to him, “Jay” for this story. Gerry insisted I come back around once my suit was done in a couple weeks and visit Jay, he had something new he thought I’d get some joy out of.

We made plans, and about 2 months later I made the trip down. My new black latex suit was shipped directly to Jay’s house, and he and Gerry also had what they called my new “spiked” footwear ready for me. On the day I finally made it to Jay’s our conversations were brief, and there in Jay’s living room, I stripped, and they helped apply dressing lube and on the suit went. Being neck entry, it took some wiggling, but Jay and Gerry were delicate and great helping me wiggle in. They both then gradually applied the shine, and there in this living room with white tile and white walls was me in this totally blacked out second skin. Gerry and Jay both towered over me, they both being 6’ about, me at a lowly 5’7”, even feeling shorter with my shoulder length hair.

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Early to Brunch

By mclioncub

Sunday morning rolled around and I prepped myself prior to leaving for Sirs’ house.  As with every weekly visit, I am required to ensure that my cock & balls are shaved clean, my underarms and body hair is removed.  As usual, I also had to clean up my mohawk.  Sir likes the look of my mohawk so I am required to keep it at all times.  Once I cleaned up and ate some breakfast, I packed the car and headed out to Sirs’ house.

When I arrived, I was let in and I headed to the front room to put up my toy bag and prep myself for the day.  As normal, I stripped down and then put my boots back on.  That is my required uniform, naked, booted and in chastity.  The chastity device is always secured on me at all times unless Sir chooses otherwise.  In most instances, Sir will have me remove the device if He has plans for my cock and balls.  In addition, if Sir does allow me to cum, it is always followed with some form of punishment.  Sometimes mild but other times more intense.  It all depends on what is on the agenda.  Once I finished, I headed to the living room and took my kneeling position with legs spread apart and my hands interlocked behind my head.

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Strongman – Part 10

By Peter B. and Art Intelli

Chapter 10

My breath came in ragged gasps as I half-carried, half-dragged Viktor through the gnarled roots and tangled branches of the dense forest. He was barely conscious, his weight heavy against my shoulder. His once-mighty frame was so frail from starvation and dehydration, his steps sluggish.

“Viktor,” I whispered urgently, shifting my grip to keep him upright. He was too weak to continue standing on his own.

“You have to keep going.”

Viktor groaned, his head lolling to the side.

“I can’t,” he rasped. “I have nothing left.”

My grip tightened. “That’s not true. You always told me to find the strength inside myself. Now it’s your turn.”

With a weak chuckle, Viktor nodded. “Damn, throwing my own words back at me.  I taught you too well.”  He said nothing more, but I could feel the shift in him — the stubborn spark of willpower that had once made Viktor the strongest man I had ever known.

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Strongman – Part 09

By Peter B. and Art Intelli

Chapter 9

That first night after the fight, I barely slept.

I sat by the fire, my body aching from the beating Viktor and I had given each other. My ribs throbbed, my knuckles were raw, and my head was a storm of confusion.

“Stick with us, Rabbit,” Q-ball had said, clapping a heavy hand on my shoulder. “You earned your place.”

And I wanted to believe him.

He handed me a battered leather jacket with the sleeves cut off, the gang’s insignia stitched onto the back. My hands trembled as I pulled it on. The weight of it felt suffocating, but I forced a grin. I had to sell this. I had to make them believe.

Q-Ball clapped him on the back. “Atta boy! Knew you had it in you.”

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Strongman – Part 08

By Peter B. and Art Intelli

Chapter 8: Baldy Biker Initiation

I stood in the firelight, my breath still uneven.  I wiped the sweat and blood from my brow and chin.

“So, even though you tried to run, and even though I really don’t trust you, for some reason, I like you, Rabbit, so I’m gonna give you a second chance.  You beat the strongman and thus won the right to make a choice.  Either you pledge to join us, or I skin your strongman buddy alive.  And make you watch every minute of it. So I’m thinking the choice would be kinda easy.”

I knew I had to play along for now.  Give us time to get out of this somehow.

“OK.  You got me. I’m with you.”

Q-Ball paced in front of me, arms crossed, his grin sharp as a knife. “But see, Rabbit, you don’t just join the Baldies. You have to earn your place.”

The other bikers murmured in agreement, seemingly to tighten the circle around us. Their leather vests gleamed in the flickering firelight, the studs and chains reflecting like a thousand sharp teeth.

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Strongman – Part 07

By Peter B. and Art Intelli

Chapter Seven: The Trial of Strength

I spent the next few days under the ever-watchful eyes of the Baldies. My body ached from hard labor — hauling firewood, scrubbing tires, and fetching supplies. Still shackled at the wrists and ankles, I could do nothing but obey. Viktor in his cage was never fed.  Brought water once a day.  Maybe.

At night, my chains padlocked to a tree, I dreamt about possible escapes, but every plan seemed doomed. Viktor was caged. I was in irons.  The bikers were ruthless, their camp well-guarded. Fuzz, in particular, seemed to delight in watching me.  He enjoyed it to see me struggle as I worked against my chains, always smirking from the shadows.

Then, one evening, after another grueling day, Q-Ball gathered the gang around the fires and made an announcement.

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Strongman – Part 06

By Peter B. and Art Intelli

Chapter Six: Captured by the Baldy Bikers

The roar of motorcycles died down as we pulled into a clearing deep in the woods. Firelight flickered off twisted tree trunks, casting eerie shadows over the makeshift biker camp. Many tents and oil drum fires surrounded a large circle of dirt in the center of the camp, with a row of heavy-duty choppers parked in a line like wild animals at rest.  Off to one side I saw an old-fashioned barber chair, the black leather seat torn and stained, but its chrome and porcelain gleaming in the firelight. At the other end of the camp I noticed several objects, all under filthy tarps, one appeared to be a large crate of some kind.

They yanked me off the back of the bike and dragged me toward the center dirt circle. My wrists ached from the cuffs, my breath coming in short gasps.  I was shoved to my knees.

“Welcome to your New Life, boy,” Q-Ball sneered.

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Strongman – Part 05

By Peter B. and Art Intelli

Chapter Five: The Road Ahead

The clang of our kettle bell weights echoed through the quiet carnival grounds as Viktor and I pushed through another intense workout. My arms burned, my chest heaved, and I relished the feeling. The weightlifting sessions were no longer just about training — they were about proving myself, about matching Viktor rep for rep, about standing beside him as an equal.

But then, the sharp call of a whistle cut through the still evening air.

“Meeting! Everyone, gather up!”

The voice belonged to Rufus Crane, the head of the carnival. His tone was grim, and the moment Viktor and I stepped outside, we could see the unease settling over the performers and workers. They clustered together near the main stage, faces lined with worry.

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