Category Archives: Story

Story

Eagle Grove Steelworks – Part 04

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By Atlanta Stud

Note from Metal: This is a continuation of a story from a while back. To start at the beginning, click here

It was nearing the time they needed to pack up the Wrangler and head back to Eagle Grove when they returned to the cabin.  Jacob was guided to a wooden chair as Seth fished out the transport set and swiftly locked the on the leg shackles.  He saw a puzzled look on Jacob’s face.

“I’m getting you ready for transport, prisoner Hawkins.  Stand up and turn around so I can remove the Peerless cuffs and lock on the transport cuffs.  Excellent, you’re such a good prisoner.”

“Hang tight and I’ll grab the gear and load up the Jeep.”

“You know, if you un-cuff me, I can give you a hand, dude.”

“No can do, prisoner Hawkins.  You’re an escape risk,” Seth said as he threw him a wink and a smile.

Making it back to Eagle Grove in good time, Seth pulled over on a quiet country road to remove the transport set before pulling into his driveway.  “I almost hate to take these off you, Jacob.  You almost look the part of a real prisoner. Just need that official uniform and prison cut and you’re all set.  For now, we’ll have to make do with what we got.”

Continue reading Eagle Grove Steelworks – Part 04 →

Story

It started with Mitts –Part 11

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By bondagegimp

Going for a walk

I wake up when Bob gets up and realize I barely slept. The sun is shining into the room. The night was hard. I could hardly sleep in the tight restraints, but that was probably also due to the heavy thoughts that were troubling me. Yesterday was really too much. I can’t do this. My mind is made up: As soon as I can make the decision, I will leave Bob.

My only concern is whether he’ll actually allow it. Sure, he’ll ostensibly give me the choice. Bob has never lied to me; he keeps his word. On the surface. Because in the end, he always gets what he wants. Will he manipulate me? He still has plenty of time to brainwash me. Or will he trick me somehow? In any case, he’ll want to make it look like I made the decision myself. I spent the whole night wondering how he’d go about it.

Bob comes back to bed with me, where I’m still wrapped in the leather straps. He lies down next to me and cuddles. I don’t respond, trying to keep my distance, not letting myself be seduced. Still, it feels good. Bob plays with me until my cock is hard again. “Yesterday wasn’t easy for you. I thought we’d take a little trip today. I wanted to show you some of the beautiful scenery. We’ll leave after breakfast!”

Bob always manages to surprise me. I’m happy to finally be able to get out again. He won’t be able to lead me on a leash, or in handcuffs. A little bit of freedom. But I remain suspicious—I still remember the “party” well.

Continue reading It started with Mitts –Part 11 →

Story

It started with Mitts –Part 10

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By bondagegimp

In the office

How many days have passed since the party? 4? 5? It’s not easy to keep track when you spend a lot of time in masks or cells that don’t let in daylight. I wonder if Bob is doing this on purpose? Does he want me to lose control, to lose track of the days?

Today I’m allowed to see something again, although not completely freely. I’m wearing a rubber mask that, instead of proper eye openings, has several small holes in front of my eyes, a bit as if someone had randomly punched about 10 holes in front of each eye. Daylight comes in, which is pleasant. And I can see something, which is also an improvement compared to some of the last few days. But it’s difficult to focus. Sometimes my eye looks through one hole, then the other. It’s usually easier to close one eye and look through one hole with just one eye. But that’s tiring, and only a small section, a small tunnel. Somehow oppressive. So I look with both eyes, without focusing.

Continue reading It started with Mitts –Part 10 →

Story

The ‘Just Bondage’ Session

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By Anonymous

A chance meeting at a local sauna sparked a conversation that uncovered our shared secret: a deep craving for heavy bondage. I admitted I can’t recall a time without this pull, a need so strong it drove me to years of stupid and reckless self-bondage experiments that cheated death but I was still hooked. He shared his own tale, voice hushed, eyes distant. His first taste came with an older woman who bound him in rubber and leather restraints, her head-to-toe latex igniting a lasting obsession. After they parted, he bought his own rubber gear in secret, experimenting alone until a self-bondage accident went so wrong it scared him so bad he locked his gear away. Neither of us sought romance or sex—just the raw intensity of bondage. We knew the risks of going solo, so we built a partnership grounded in trust to explore this together. One chance meeting gone right.

It’s 9 AM, and the room is set. A glossy black rubber sheet hugs the bed, anchored to the frame were 13 straps that would hold him in place. An electric blanket beneath and three infrared lamps above cycling 30 minutes on, 30 minutes off, would keep him warm.The air carries a faint scent of rubber and silicone lube, sterile yet heavy. A bag for the piss tube hangs discreetly by the bed, and my tablet displays real-time data from his Bluetooth oxygen sensor and heart monitor. A large bag of electrolyte hydration drink hangs on a small stand, its tube connected to the bite gag for when he needs a drink. Everything is prepped, negotiated and tested—this is his fourth session, and thinks he is ready for a 10-hour plunge, from now until 7 PM.

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Story

It started with Mitts –Part 09

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By bondagegimp

To start at the very beginning, click for Part 1

The party

Bob had already changed into very, very short leather shorts that just barely covered his powerful butt and ended where his thigh muscles began to bulge. On top, he was wearing only a tank top that showed off his muscular upper arms. It was, once again, incredibly sexy. What worried me was that if he was going to the party like this, he wasn’t making much of a secret of his fetish. So what would he pick out for me?

Bob leads me on a leash into one of the rooms next to the cell—another tiled room with shower facilities. Near one wall, a chain hangs from the ceiling, attached to a winch. He attaches the ring on the front of my muzzle to it, directly under my nose. Then he tightens the chain over the winch. I have to follow the chain; at first, it pulls my head up so that I have to look up, but Bob continues until I have to stand on tiptoes, facing the wall. Now he loosens all the restraints, but I hang completely helplessly from the head harness. He then takes off my PVC suit, my diapers, and removes my plug, catheter, and all the other cock rings, etc.

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Story

The Deputy Sheriff

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By Rubrpig

As always, this slave is writing while wearing Wesco big boss double buckle engineers, locked in a Carrara chastity belt, padlocked wrist restraints, and a locked posture collar.

Adam shrugged his heavy muscled shoulders to ease the stress, and his body armor creaked as he flexed.  His biceps strained the short sleeves of his tan uniform shirt.  His shirt was soaked under the armored vest.  The vest was heavy and made heavier with all the equipment he had attached to the vest.  He was tired but he was near the end of his shift on highway patrol.  Just then a leather clad man on a Harley passed his cruiser but he was just below the speed limit, so Adam just looked at the rider.  The rider was obviously heavily muscled under the heavy black riding leathers.  The rider wore a matte black full-face helmet so Adam could not check out the rider’s face, so Adam lost interest and headed back to the sheriff’s station to end his shift.

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Story

Retail Slavery

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By Rubrpig

As usual, the writer is locked in a chastity belt, plugged, wearing Wesco’s and a heavy locked posture collar.

Master Steven logged into his laptop and found that his online slave was already online.  The two men had met through BLUF and over time Master Steven convinced his now slave that he was pretending to be a Leather Sir when he was meant to be a slave.  His slave finally stopped resisting several months ago and was now identifying as a slave and had even updated his BLUF profile to indicate what had happened and what he was.

Master Steven had happily accepted his slave’s submission and had issued several standing orders for his slave to follow.  The slave was now strictly prohibited from using any furniture in its apartment but was allowed to use its bed so it could rest properly and maintain its health and employment.  When it was at its job, it was required to be in a suit, dress shirt and tie with polished dress shoes.  It was also required to wear an engraved with the word SLAVE engraved on it.  Under its shirt it wore a padlocked chain collar.

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Story

It started with Mitts –Part 08

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By bondagegimp

Changes

We lie in bed for a while, tightly embraced. We’re silent. A thousand thoughts should be racing through my head, I should be worried, but I’m simply enjoying the moment. I’m not thinking about yesterday, I’m not thinking about tomorrow. I’m simply here, in Bob’s arms.

Bob’s head is very close to mine. “I don’t know where this journey will take us yet either. But I have a certain idea of the direction we’ll be going. I will take you on this journey, show you the way, and sometimes force you to do things you’ve yet to learn. I will train you and mold you according to my wishes. But I’m only bringing out of you what’s already in your nature, what you forbid yourself from letting out. Perhaps it will even frighten you when you recognize it. We’ll start very carefully. But there will also be hurdles you’ll have to overcome. And we’re starting with that now.”

Continue reading It started with Mitts –Part 08 →