Up Your Alley: The Next Year – Part 1

By ty dehner

The single tail whip snapped as it struck my naked backside. This was the 18th strike as I was ordered to keep count when the last lock on the steel wrist restraining was put upon me and connected to the steel St. Andrews Cross that stood in the middle of 10th Street. I was stark naked held fast in steel wrist and ankle restrains locked to the steel cross. My cock has been in its heavy metal chastity belt for a week with a metal plug up my ass and a metal helmet on my head to scream into.

I’ve been on this cross for over an hour and Master Kevin has allowed various leather men to use their floggers, whips and crops on me to show me the power and control he has over his object. This is far different from last year when I was here in full leather. Then I could never had thought I would be owned by Master Kevin and be in his service. But here I am as the next strike really stings and I scream and try to break free of the steel, knowing that I can’t. I feel a leather glove on my back and it gently sooths my burning skin.

“Pig you know how many Facebook and Tumblr feeds you are going to appear in tonight! They don’t know that under that helmet you are sweating in that full leather hood and your mouth is stuffed with the inflatable gag. But they know you are suffering for me and I’m so close to pulling that plug out and fucking you right here on the street!”

Continue reading Up Your Alley: The Next Year – Part 1

Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 10

By Greg Alexander

It was a warm afternoon, and as Wes walked down the street, he was sweating heavily.

He was sweating, less because of the heat, and more because he had just gotten back from soccer practice and hadn’t had any time to change. He had been (deliberately) wearing the same white athletic socks for 7 solid days now, and he knew his athletic feet were starting to smell. In fact, his teammates had commented on it in the locker room earlier today.

Wes sighed as he trudged on, still wearing his soccer cleats and those socks. He knew he should change them. But he couldn’t help it.

In one hand, he was carrying a grocery bag. He had visited the convenience store earlier in the day, where he had bought a supersized jar of peanut butter, a big container of mayo, a bottle of ketchup and a can of puppy chow dog food. He was walking fast, and his heart rate was a little bit up. He felt excited. Was that wrong? Maybe a little bit. Did Wes care much? Not really. He figured life was too short. He was going to have fun where he could.

Continue reading Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 10