Tag Archives: Bareback Plus

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Double Trouble – Part 05

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By Peter B. and Art Intelli

Chapter Five: Trial by Sun

The Texas sun showed no mercy.

By midmorning, Peter’s shirt was soaked through and caked with the red grit of the land. Iron chains clinked and dragged with every labored step — the ankle shackles heavy, the transport belt tight around his waist, locking his collar and wrists in a web of rusted links.

The twins had not spoken much since dawn. They simply watched. One from horseback, the other from the shade of a fencepost, arms crossed, aviators hiding any flicker of expression.

Peter dug.

The hole was pointless — not for a post, not for irrigation — just a pit in the earth, three feet wide, three feet deep, then deeper still. Blisters tore open across his palms. His shoulders screamed. The collar bit deeper into his neck every time he bent forward.

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Story

The Pit’s Grip – Part 02

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Chapter 2: The Pit’s Clamps

Threads Snap – Flesh Yields

By Restrained4U

Leo’s fingers clutched the thick black card, the size of a business card, its crisp white letters stark under the dim light as his grin faded to a stark, silent stare. He swallowed hard, jaw tightening, his eyes dropping to the card with a slow, deliberate heaviness. Jamie leaned forward, smirk wiped clean, his breath catching as he stared at Leo’s hands, fingers twitching nervously on the table’s edge. Ryan’s snarl faltered, his steel gaze narrowing intently, a ripple of tension creasing his brow as he leaned in slightly, trying to read the moment. Marcus lounged back, his grin curling slow and predatory, a glint in his eyes like a wolf circling a wounded catch, dice clinking softly in his palm as he savored the thickening air.

The silence stretched, taut and heavy, the room holding its breath. Then, like a switch flipping, Leo’s lips twitched, a shit-eating grin splitting his face as he looked up, eyes wild with mischief. “Gotcha, fuckers,” he said, voice dripping with glee as he read the card aloud, barely holding back a laugh. “Roll a single die – remove that number of clothes. Socks count as one, shoes count as one. If your roll’s higher than the pieces you’ve got on, you take a punishment.” He flicked the card onto the table with a sharp snap – SHED OR SUFFER stamped in white – and leaned back, crossing his arms with a smug nod. “Easy peasy – thought I’d make you squirm first.”

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Story

The Inescapable Canvas – Part 02

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By THHoudini and yohan555

Chapter 4 – Bound Desires

Nat woke up in the dark, not knowing where he was. He could not see anything. Then he remembered, Yohan had tricked him, tricked him in a straitjacket that was more than a normal asylum restraint. A straitjacket that was somehow magical and that had transformed and fused with his body. The darkness he lay in wasn’t just a void—it was a living, breathing beast, a predator that didn’t merely surround Nat but sank its claws into him, seeping through his skin, threading into his veins like a venom that burned and begged for more. It wasn’t silence—it was a symphony of torment: the creak of leather stretching taut over his thrashing body, the thud of his pulse roaring in his ears, the faint, slick whisper of spandex shifting beneath the straitjacket’s iron grip. That jacket—fuck, it really wasn’t a jacket anymore, he had not dreamed that. When the blinding white light had faded, it had shed its innocently looking soft clothing shell, transforming into a seamless, glossy shroud of black leather that fused to him from his broad shoulders down to the thick curve of his hips. No buckles, no seams, no escape—just a second skin that clung tighter with every breath, every twitch, every curse he spat into the void. It was still reacting to his movement, still adjusting to him as he moved.

Continue reading The Inescapable Canvas – Part 02 →

Story

Chain Gang – Part 01

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By slaveobjectx

The Court

‘Ten years slavery with hard labour in a chain gang, no remission, take him down.’ At first I thought I’d misheard the guy. He was old and kinda mumbled through a dirty grey beard. And he looked so bored when he said it, like it was no big deal or nothing. Then I thought it was some kind of joke, like a local way of saying, ten years community work, part time, something like that. Because slavery was abolished long ago, and chain gangs were too. Apart from that, the duration of my imprisonment would be in no proportion to the crime I was thought to have committed. Therefore, at that moment I heard it, I was quite sure, it was either a mistake or just an old-fashioned way of speaking in this remote provincial town, (which was behind the times in juridical terms), and most likely both.

So I guess you can say that I was surprised when, as soon as I was off the stand and down into the lower regions of the courthouse, a burly guard snapped two handcuffs, connected by a short chain, onto my wrists and shoved me into a cell. ‘Your transport will be ready for you in about ten minutes, boy,’ he said breezily and stomped off, his boots echoing on the stone floor.

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Story

My Pal Jock and the Party Guest

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By Hunter Perez

Jock is my best friend and I love him dearly, but there is one thing about him that I dread and that involves his penchant for party giving. It’s not that he’s a bad host – far from it. In fact, his parties are extraordinarily generous regarding the delicious foods being served (most of which he creates in his kitchen) or the selection of beverages made available (some of the most expensive wines and spirits I’ve ever enjoyed).

My problem is that Jock never seems to realize that I don’t fit in with his social set. The guests at Jock’s parties can be divided into three categories. First, there are the money boys – the trust fund babies, the day traders, the hedge fund jockeys and investment bankers who gather and compare their portfolios and share insider tips on the next hot stock. Second, there are the gym bros – they wear the tight t-shirts that show off their musculature while they babble about supplements, steroids and iron pumping. Third, there are the bears – the leather clad beefy guys who congregate on the back porch to smoke their cigars and talk about whatever it is that bears talk about. I’ve never been able to eavesdrop on them, hence my ignorance regarding their conversations.

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Story

7 Days in Berlin – Part 08

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By Takeo

Day 2 – Wednesday June 12th – Back to the apartment

I am totally freaking out. I am locked in a straitjacket, wearing a muzzle with a leather insert in my mouth, in the trunk of a car of someone I don’t know. My cock still caged, and still wet from the juice of three guys who jerked off in my tights.

I can feel the car making its way through Berlin traffic. With every turn and every braking or acceleration, I shift a little in the trunk. I am not blindfolded, but it is completely dark inside.

My main fear is that the gag will make me vomit and suffocate to death in this trunk. Yet in the various discussions we have had, Florian has always seemed to be very attentive to safety, and I cannot conceive of him leaving me like this. He probably doesn’t even know if I get motion sickness?

I try to relax and breathe calmly. Actually, no, I don’t get motion sickness, and the gag isn’t too big and I have no trouble swallowing. There is no reason for it to go wrong. The moment of panic passing, I start to enjoy it, and immediately my chastity cage reminds me.

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Story

The Resort – Chapter 11

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By TklBndg516

Pilot Program

On Thursday the team met to discuss the outcome of the focus group and the plans for the pilot program.  They all agreed that the meeting with the focus group went well.  They got a lot of good feedback that confirmed some of the things they had already figured out and provided some new ideas.  Then they worked on the rules for the Pilot Program.

Participants in the focus group would be asked to set up a partner account with Jeff as the controller.  They would be told that Jeff would relinquish control immediately if any of them wanted to opt-out of the program.  He would also provide them with self-control of the device whenever requested.  Use of any additional features would initially be under self-control.  As the program developed, they may limit self-control, but they would always have the option to opt-out.

Continue reading The Resort – Chapter 11 →