Category Archives: Story

Story

Florida Trap – Part 09

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By Johnny Utah

Based on a suggestion by MetalbondNYC

The owners of the ranch sent me a letter. In 90 days, they planned to sell the ranch. They were asking me to do some upgrades and offered me almost double my pay for my work in looking after the horses and keeping the barns in shape. I accepted. What else did I have to do?

For the couple of weeks all I did was work. The owners came by to see me with some new plans for some upgrades. It meant a lot of digging. They were supposed to have a contactor show up with an excavator, but he never showed, so I used a shovel and wheelbarrow. I got up and took care of the horses. I sweated out in the sun all day, went home, ate, went to sleep, and got up the next morning to repeat it.

It was early Saturday morning. I heard the sound of a truck pulling up in the driveway. Sgt. Stiles arrived. He had sent me a text last night that he would be over. I looked out the window, and sure enough there he was in all his glory. Stetson hat, stern jaw, and thick neck, all I could think was “WOOF!”

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Story

Florida Trap – Part 08

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By Johnny Utah

Based on a suggestion by MetalbondNYC

I got in my trailer. I dropped the boxes with the butt plugs and leg irons from Sgt. Stiles on the kitchen table. I got out of my boots, dropped my shorts, and yanked off my shirt. I picked up the leg irons. I could put them on, no problem. The butt plug was another thing. I decided to try, after all Sgt. Stiles had given it to me to try. I went into the bathroom. I had some KY gel. I got into my bedroom and hit the bed. All I had on was my socks and my collar. I locked the leg irons on. I admit they felt good. It brought back so many good memories. The restraint of the chain was reassuringly safe.

I had second thoughts about the butt plug but then decided to go ahead. I lubed up the plug. I used a finger to put some lube on the outside of my asshole. I laid back, tried to relax and slowly inserted the plug into my hole. It took a little pressure to get it in my hole, but it went in up to the base easily enough. I switched my concentration to the letter. I opened the letter carefully, so I didn’t rip the outside of the envelope with the address on it.

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Story

Eagle Grove Steelworks – Part 02

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By Atlanta Stud

stories by Atlanta studSeth put on his Tecova Doc square toe boots and, with Jacob in the lead, hands secured in the Peerless cuffs, they hopped up in Seth’s hand me down Wrangler and Seth buckled up Jacob.

“Hey, toss me the sweatshirt on the back seat so I can cover up my hands so nobody sees the cuffs.”

“Hah, nothing doing, buddy.  I doubt anyone will see them anyway with the doors and windows on this ‘old thing.  Sit back and enjoy the ride.  I’ll take the cuffs off once we get to the Army Navy store.”

The smaller two-lane state highways didn’t bother Jacob much, it was when they hit 35 South, the four-lane divided, that he got nervous.  Someone in a pickup or a trucker in a rig would surely see the cuffs if they glanced over, so he pulled the sleeves of his long sleeve t-shirt over as much as he could to hide the metal.

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Story

Florida Trap – Part 07

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By Johnny Utah

Based on a suggestion by MetalbondNYC

I was working hard at the ranch. My routine was set. Get up, coffee, do the three S’s, and then off to the stables. It was about half a mile to the stables from my mobile home. My boots crunched the gravel on the track to the stables. It was a good walk and got my mind cleared to concentrate on work.

As I’d get close to the stables I’d be sucked in by the warm smells of hay, horse, and the Florida woods. First thing to do was feed and water the horses, get them into whatever corral or field they needed to be in.  I’d toss dozens of haybales into the hayloft, dig fence post holes, lug wood around, dig ditches, and — as ever — shovel shit into the trailer and then shovel it out at the manure pile.

There were always little extras that were enjoyable. I liked brushing the horses. I’d talk to them to make sure they were calm. They always listened. Each horse had its own personality.

Before it got too late in the morning the owners would show up, or the owners of some of the horses who were stabled there. I would have a brief talk with them about their horse or something. Sometimes it was nothing in particular, like the weather.

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Story

Dore Bound by ty dehner

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A NOVELLA – written by ty dehner

MORNING

ty dehner books about male bondage“Good morning, Sir,” I said as I returned his kiss.

“You are the perfect toy to wake to in the morning.” Noted Rafael.

“I came down several times in the evening to check on you, and I was so excited to see you here, encased and helpless.  It was all I could do to go back to bed.  But you were sleeping so soundly and made me so proud yesterday.”

“I didn’t think I could ever sleep encased like this, Sir. I didn’t expect this at all.”

“I know I have taken some liberties with you, but I hope you know I only do it because I fucking enjoy having a toy to use, and you seem to need this.  You need to be used and controlled, pig, and I am sure you don’t regret anything I’ve used you for.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Speak freely, toy.”

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Story

Florida Trap – Part 06

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By Johnny Utah

Based on a suggestion by MetalbondNYC

I drove like a little old lady back toward Jacksonville. The speed people were going was really fucking crazy. I got to my hotel by a combination of memory and luck. It wasn’t too far from the highway, so I could see it before I had to turn off. I pulled into the parking lot. On the passenger seat was a printout of my reservation. I guess Sgt. Stiles had made it for me. I wondered what he was doing right now.

I parked and went to check in. One thing hit me right away. It was hard to walk. I was taking short steps waiting for the chain on my leg irons to stop me. I had to stop. I took a deep breath and tried to walk like a free man. It was hard to do.

I walked into the hotel. It was freezing cold. Air conditioning, ugh. There was a smell of carpet. There was a smell of people. Not man sweat, Lord knows I liked that. It was the smell of deodorant and cologne. So overpowering and sticky sweet, like someone stuck a honey dipped finger up your nose and twirled it around.

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Story

Total Behavioral Solutions – Part 03

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By Sang Freud

Brian was in the observation booth reviewing paperwork when he saw the orderlies return with 5962. The subject formerly known as Tom Hathaway was definitely changed. 5962 was now completely smooth and hairless, and the heavy canvas straitjacket practically gleamed under the fluorescent lights. Brian noticed that 5962 was guided rather than dragged to the exam table.

The orderlies encountered no resistance whatsoever as they laid their subject down, and Brian thought he even saw 5962 willingly place his legs into the stirrups that jutted out from the table’s end. Of course the orderlies secured 5962’s legs with leather restraints before cranking the stirrups apart, but Brian even wondered if this one would have willingly spread its legs for him. His speculation got stronger when he saw the tip of 5962’s dick poking out of its foreskin, covered with a light sheen of precum. It wasn’t overly common, but it certainly wouldn’t be the first time that a subject’s true nature emerged under Brian’s gaze.

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Story

Florida Trap – Part 05

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By Johnny Utah

I shuffled into the Receiving Building.  I was the largest building I had been inside of in weeks, and it stank of industrial disinfectant. I thought I’d have to stop and do something like fingerprints and a mugshot, but then it hit me I already had a prison ID card. I had a record here. I had no idea why I was taken from the fields into prison. Everything was going OK since we got back to the work camp. Going to pick sweet potatoes wasn’t that bad, now I was facing something else. Something unknown.

In the processing area, Sergeant Stiles was waiting for me.

“Prisoner Utah, J. 35374, you are going to be processed for entry in the Special Housing Unit, disciplinary segregation section,” he announced.

I shuffled down a hallway and turned into a big white painted room with six tall cages, each one obviously meant to hold one man. I was put in a standing cage, painted white. It was about four by four feet. There was a kind of bench to sit on. The door clanged shut and was locked.

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