Tag Archives: Bondage Bros

Story

The Shackles of Curiosity – Part 01

3 Comments

By Peter B. and Art Intelli

Peter had always been a curious man. Not just about the world — though he devoured books on history, science, and myth — but about the more obscure corners of the human experience. Of all his peculiar interests, one obsession stood out above the rest: bondage. Specifically, the cold, metallic click of handcuffs locking into place. There was something elegant in the restraint, a mechanical intimacy he couldn’t quite explain.

When he heard that The Amazing Argento, a legendary escape artist rumored to have broken free from the most impossible traps, was performing in his city, Peter bought front-row seats without hesitation.

The show was mesmerizing. Argento, draped in sleek black, challenged padlocks, chains, straitjackets, and submerged cages — each escape more impossible than the last. But what held Peter’s gaze was not just the spectacle, but the tools. The gleam of cuffs, the clink of chain, the artistry in control.

Continue reading The Shackles of Curiosity – Part 01 →

Story

It started with Mitts –Part 06

5 Comments

By bondagegimp

Rubber room

The cellar stairs? He was talking about a padded cell in his cellar! In the car, everything was still a bit playful, but gradually it became more serious. But this now? Like a dungeon under the house??? Now that’s some serious shit! I wriggle on his shoulder, trying to squirm. Luckily Bob is so strong, we could have tumbled down the basement stairs. He shakes me just once, a signal for me to hold still. But I can’t. I’m really scared shitless now, I don’t want to be locked up in some dark cell!

Bob ignores my wriggling. When we reach the bottom, he puts me on my feet and pulls the chain – I’m supposed to shuffle along behind him. No! I drop to the ground; I’m not going along with this! Without hesitation, Bob picks me up, throws me over his shoulder and walks on unperturbed. Sometimes left, sometimes right – it’s really hard to follow the path when you’re being carried blind. Then he turns in circles a few times until I completely lose my orientation and puts me back on the ground. My feet sink in deeply, as if I’m standing on a very soft mattress, but the surface is very uneven, as if it’s made up of lots of plump, thick cushions. Bob gives me a gentle push. With my feet bound and on the soft floor, I can’t move fast enough, lose my balance and fall like a sack. I instinctively try to catch myself with my hands, yank at my chains, but it doesn’t help. After all, the ground is really very soft, I don’t hurt myself.

Continue reading It started with Mitts –Part 06 →

Story

A Few Hours of Suffering

1 Comment

By keepmetiedup

They say “write what you know,” so here’s a short story that actually happened to me (with just a teeny bit of embellishment). This story contains descriptions of breath control, some CNC, and pain.

At breakfast this morning, I noticed my jaw still ached when I started to eat my toast.  Later, in the shower, the hot water made my nips hurt again.  When I looked in the mirror, I saw the black and blue marks across my back and ass.  All souvenirs of a good time suffering for a demanding top three days ago.

I visit my family every few months and I often try to schedule a play session before or after my time with my family.  Sometimes, it doesn’t work out.  On this trip, however, I succeeded in setting up a date with a trusted top I had visited many times before who is into pain, cbt, bondage, and – yes – breath controI.  I went over to his place.  We chatted about limits and preferences, and I told him I was interested in playing a bit more with breath control.  I reminded him that I hadn’t visited him for about two years, and he said that he would have to punish me for not coming to see him again sooner.  I smilingly agreed that he would indeed need to punish me.

He told me to strip down to my birthday suit, to go into the next room, and to wait for him with my hands behind my back and my head bowed.  Naturally I complied.  The second room was quite dark and without my glasses on, it was hard to see anything.  I waited.  Eventually, I heard him walk up behind me and he slipped a blindfold on.  Now I couldn’t see anything at all.  I heard him walk around in front of me.  He told me to present my arms to him.  He attached what felt like leather cuffs to each wrist and he fastened these together in front of me with what I’m assuming was a short length of rope.  He didn’t ignore my nips.  He clamped each one with something snug and secure.  I never did see what they were, but they did their job and hurt.  He guided me around the room to a different position.

Continue reading A Few Hours of Suffering →

Story

Storage Space: Sentenced to Service – Part 01

2 Comments

(A True Potential Story)

Written by BootDeputy

It was less than a week before the brand on Logan`s ass was healed enough to allow for more functional movement. When Daddy Kyle branded him, He made sure to do it on the far outer side of his ass so Master Dallas was still able to fuck his hole, and he did daily.

But it seemed that Logan’s time as Tread the barn animal was done. On the night that the brand seemed to be healing without infection, Logan was on his knees worshiping Master Dallas’ dick. His spurs dug into Logan’s back as he smoked on the porch of his ranch house.

He had already unloaded in Logan’s mouth and was watching him clean off his cock. He got an email from Officer Rick yesterday detailing Logan’s next step in his year of training, which was with two doms that needed a new object to train. They had sent a package containing things for Logan to have on when they arrived. They were probably on the road, if not a hotel, right now coming from Delaware.

He couldn’t delay it any longer, “Tonight is your last night with me. Tomorrow evening you will be picked up by two men from our family.”

Continue reading Storage Space: Sentenced to Service – Part 01 →

Story

Size Doesn’t Matter – The Next Phase

8 Comments

By David Cody Ledon

I have been a cock/chastity slave now, for 6 months. My master, Thomas, and I had initially started dating after meeting for coffee. We had met on an online hookup site that had no connection to kink, S&M or bondage, and had gotten to know each other for several weeks while we had conventional, but very hot sex. I became his slave last July when he talked me into letting him tie me down one night, at which point he locked me in a chastity device and a shock collar and spent the rest of the weekend dominating and humiliating me.

Thomas is 28, 5’4, and 140 pounds. Like many guys his age, he can eat pretty much anything without it affecting his weight, although I suspect when he turns 30 that may change. It never occurred to me that a guy who is so young and so small would be such a nasty, merciless dom.

I’m a good bit older (52) and larger (6’0, 175 pounds) and reasonably nice looking. Thomas came after me, and while I was surprised by his interest, given our age difference, I was also very flattered. I ended up falling right into his trap.

Continue reading Size Doesn’t Matter – The Next Phase →

Story

Dear Mr. Cop – Part 04

11 Comments

By Hunter Perez

The morning sun illuminated the hotel suite, giving the space a bright golden hue. John looked at his wristwatch and saw it was a little before seven. He quietly crawled out of bed and quietly moved to the windows to draw the curtains and darken the room.

John left Lucas alone in the bed, but Lucas was unaware of this – he fell into a deep sleep a few hours earlier, with the slightest of smiles resting on his lips. John sat the edge of the bed and gazed at Lucas, his inner thoughts in combat between exhilaration and panic. The night with Lucas went far beyond the Mr. Right Now encounters he enjoyed in his weekend sojourns, and the last thing that he wanted was to lose the sensation he experienced. But his repeated thoughts of having Lucas as his personal prisoner continued to resonate. He feared being rejected if he broached the subject to Lucas, but he also reminded himself the subject was planted and cultivated in the letters addressed to “Mr. Cop” – the scenario was not of his creation, even though he wanted to see it through.

“I’ll lock you up and throw away the key,” John thought as he studied Lucas.

Continue reading Dear Mr. Cop – Part 04 →