My Bitch

Greg is tied face down with his ass in the air, spread wide and available for abuse. The masked man uses his finger to fuck and lube his tight, straight man hole. Then he uses a dildo and savagely fucks poor Greg as he moans, whines, whimpers and howls in pain and shame, his high pitched squealing filling the air as he struggles in vain.

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See the VIDEO at Straight Men In Trouble

Title of this update: Greg – Part 3

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Bound Gods: The Return of Rocco Steele

Locked in a dark dungeon, Adam gets his fill from hung, sadistic dom Rocco Steele.

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With his new plaything wrapped in plastic and swaying from the ceiling, Rocco Steele tests the firm leather of his paddle. Mr. Steele approaches the package and tears it open, revealing Adam Ramzi. He lowers Adam and inspects the slave’s ass, wasting no time probing and tasting his hole and paddling his firm cheeks. Mr. Steele moves to Adam’s head and has the slave suck his massive cock. After a vicious paddling, Adam stands bound against a column, face covered by a leather hood. Mr. Steele mixes pleasure and pain for his slave, caressing the slave’s cock before tying it off to a long rope and pulling from across the room. Adam receives a painful edging, the orgasm interrupted by a zipper torn his from his tender nipples and torso. Mr. Steele peels Adam from the column and locks him into a stockade table.

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Stretched out on the table, Mr. Steele plows his whole ten inches deep into the slave’s ass while coating his back in hot wax. Adam hungrily takes a messy load from his dom before taking orders to mount a sybian and jerk himself off while cropped. With his prostate rocked by the maximum vibration, Adam lets out a cum explosion before having the sybian turned up to full blast.

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Training Week at the Campground: A Novel – Part 15

By AlphaMetal

Day 8, Evening – The Colonel and the slave

It had just begun to get dark and the Commander and the man Cody thought of as “the Colonel” were relaxing in the living room of the Commander’s trailer after supper. Each had a glass of bourbon and they were smoking cigars to celebrate the officer’s successful week at the camp. The Commander was incredibly proud of his old friend and his friend was proud of himself as well. It was an experience that would make him an even better Dom and give him greater confidence about taking charge of a boy. It was getting time for him to settle down, after all, and having just retired from the Marine Corps as a major general a few weeks ago, after a long career in the service, he finally had the freedom to complete that part of his life.

The Commander and his old friend drank their whisky, smoked their cigars, and discussed old times, and began comparing notes about Cody, Wrestler, and Pretty Boy.

About an hour later there was a knock at the trailer door and the Commander said, “Come in.” The slaveboy entered the trailer and saw the man on the couch with his glass of whisky and cigar, the man whose sore muscles the slave had massaged. He noticed the man’s black boots and his heart skipped a beat. He was thrilled to see the boots.

Continue reading Training Week at the Campground: A Novel – Part 15

Training Week at the Campground: A Novel – Part 14

By AlphaMetal

Day 7, Evening – The Last Night at the Campground

The four boys were back in the dormitory at parade rest at the ends of their cots, in their prison scrubs and barefoot as usual. They all knew this was the last day and that the week of training was coming to an end. One more night shackled to their cots and then they would go home with their Masters in the morning.

As the boys stood by their cots the Commander motioned to the slave, who left the room and returned carrying the clothes the Colonel had worn when he first arrived at the camp: a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt with “U.S.N.A.” in gold letters.

The slave handed the Colonel’s jeans, t-shirt, underwear, and socks to the Commander, who in turn handed them to the Colonel and nodded. The Colonel slipped off his prison scrubs and boxers and got dressed in his old clothes as the boys watched. Cody hadn’t paid attention to the writing on the Colonel’s t-shirt that first day but when he looked at the gold letters — U.S.N.A. — it hit him: “United States Naval Academy. The man had gone Annapolis. He’s isn’t in the Army, he’s in the Navy.”

The “Colonel” was dressed in his own clothes but Cody noticed that he was standing in his socks; his sneakers had not been returned to him.

Continue reading Training Week at the Campground: A Novel – Part 14