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Story

10 Days in Detention – Part 02

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“10 Days in Detention” series by socalbdBy socalbd

I woke up with a start. John was hitting the side of the cage with a metal rod.  It brought me quickly out of my deep sleep.  I have no idea how long I was out but it probably wasn’t that long.

Once John saw I was awake he unlocked the cage door and motioned for me to crawl out.  A dog bowl of water had been placed near the cage and I crawled over to it and drank as best I could.  When I was finished I propped myself up on my knees.

“Stand up,” John commanded.  He was still in his BDU’s, barefoot and shirtless and looking hot.

I stood up and John began to remove the shackles.  The last portion was the collar and once he had removed that from my neck he let the chains fall behind me with a loud clanking thud.

“Hands behind your head, fingers interlocked.  Spread those ankles, boy,” John further commanded.  He circled me while I stood there exposed.  Nothing was said between us for a couple of minutes.  He just continued to walk in a circle around me.  My instincts said he was not pleased with me since he wasn’t showing any signs of warmth towards me as he did earlier.  I couldn’t be sure.  It might have been an act to keep me off balance.  I told myself that whatever was next I had to do my best to get through it and make him proud of me again.

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Story

Island Paradise – Part 1: Chapter 23

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By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 23: Your Next Career Move

I don’t know how many times I got punished during the next few months—so many times that I felt incomplete, at the end of the day, if I hadn’t been slapped around or casually put across the knee of a waiter to get my butt spanked.  They loved to do that.  And it was true—I was a bad busboy.  I was surly.  I stumbled.  I broke things.  Like any other servant, I deserved to be punished.

Then one morning I was lined up with the other slaps to spend 12 more hours pulling dirty plates into the kitchen, when Dev caught me by the arm and said, “Not you. You been sold.”

“Sold?”

“Yeah, I know, mon.  Who’d wanta buy you?  But the truck is comin.”

So that’s it, I thought.  The fields.  The fields where I’ll spend the rest of my life chopping dirt.

“Report to Boss Derek’s desk,” he said, with no attempt at the usual camp.  “Good luck, mon.”  You’ve really fucked up, I thought, when Dev wishes you good luck.

I shuffled to the desk, and there was Boss Derek, looking angry that he had to spend time dealing with me.  “Bend down,” he said, and he took the King George dog tag off my collar and did something with his laptop to unlimit my distances.  It was like being drummed out of the Foreign Legion.  Then he said something weird.  “You don’t know how lucky you are, slappie.”

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Story

My Bound Birthday

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By Mister-X / Spartan

It was my 29th birthday. It also was the one day of the week when the store was closed. The crazy guys I worked with at the store invited me to the store for a birthday party, telling me to arrive at noon. I was apprehensive about what they had planned for me. After all, the store I work in sold bondage gear. But I figured, what the heck, I hadn’t had any bondage play in a couple of months, so I was also looking forward to it.

When I got to the store, I recognized the various cars that were parked in our lot. The guys were obviously already in there waiting for me. But I had brought along the key to the back door. I figured they were all gathered around the front door waiting for me to enter.

But I got a surprise. When I opened the back door with the key, the burglar alarm went off. I’d forgotten about that. I had planned to enter quietly and surprise them, try to put cuffs on as many as I could before they got me cuffed, but with that alarm going off I didn’t exactly enter quietly. I had to quickly run in after closing the door and hide somewhere. I heard running feet coming toward me.

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Story

The WORC Program – Part 13

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By Joshua Ryan

Here’s the way the place was organized. Jerry had a big “staff.” At the top was this Meyers guy, Steven Meyers — MISTER Meyers, the “personal assistant.” He wasn’t a workie. Maybe he should have been, but he wasn’t. I saw him from a distance, and I knew he was a faggot. The kind of faggot I’d been. Only I guess he needed a job. He slept in the House.

Everybody else was a workie. There were three types of workie.

First: House Staff. They were the head servant, Cicero, and the cook, Sacky. Cicero lived in the House, up in the attic. Sacky lived in the barracks, but he kept whatever hours were needed to satisfy the owner. He was the way we got all those great leftovers, and things that weren’t leftovers.

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Story

The After Party – Part 1

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By Pup Shaggy

I’d start by reciting the dream I had that night, but I can’t remember a damn second of it. All I know is that it must have been a good one because the wood I woke up with that morning was like a boats mast. I grinned, scratched my head, fondled my balls, and then turned my attention to my bed-pal.

I live in a student house, although I wouldn’t consider myself the regular ‘student’. Mostly I think it’s an age thing; you see while the average student is twenty something years old, I’m in my thirties, which then begs the question of why I’m staying in student accommodation. Long story short, I’m here working through a master’s degree my boss at work decided I should get; something about ‘increasing the prestige of the company’. I suppose a part of it is the mentality of it all as well; our differences in attitude. You see, while I tend to focus on more class work, their attitude is less aimed at their studies and more for partying and getting into trouble, as college students do. I’m not about to judge; I was that age once.

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Daily Thread

Gabriel is strung up in a dungeon and whipped

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Gabriel is strung up in a dungeon and whipped

You hear the story all the time, but everyone dismisses it as an urban legend: A young college student, in a river town like Minneapolis, leaves a party and disappears into thin air. Rumors fly that he was kidnapped and sold into slavery — or worse. Don’t be ridiculous, the authorities insist, he must have slipped into the river and his body was swept away. But, guess what? The rumors are true: There is a reason these missing young men are always fit and good-looking — because that’s the way we like them! Garbriel Cruz is such a captive, a well-built, 21-year-old college student who left a party drunk and walked home alone, along the river. But he didn’t fall off a rock into a swift current or jump off a bridge; he was grabbed and thrown into a van, stripped of his T-shirt and shoes, blindfolded and bound. He is now hanging in a dark, concrete room, pants around his knees. “What are you going to do to me?” he asks, tears in his eyes. His captor, Garret Stone, is a muscular, unsmiling young man, nearly naked but for some leather gear. And he has a whip.

See the whole thing at Dream Boy Bondage

Title of this episode: Gabriel Cruz – Taken For Torture – Chapter 1

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Story

The Story of Dax – Chapter 10

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By TheBadOne

Chapter 10 – The Order

The dungeon music fades out as I am lowered down the hole between the upper floor and the lower floor. All that’s left for me to hear is the clanking of the chain lowering my rope-bound body, and the jackhammering of my heart.

After everything I’ve been through tonight and all the men I’ve served so far, I can hardly believe there’s more. As I descend below the ceiling into the room full of men, I realize I’m not blindfolded, gagged, or plugged. Whatever is coming next, I have to face it with eyes, and mouth, and ass wide open.

I’ve been lowered into a room that is empty but for the men inside of it. I count twenty-four. On one end stands all of the doms I’ve met tonight. Many more stand in between them and six slaves on the other end, all in full rubber suits- no hoods this time. I see Trevor among them.

And in the middle is Master Shephard. He’s wearing the grin I find so irresistible, and as he strokes his cock at the sight of me trussed up and floating vulnerably, I see him bite his lip and close his eyes as he holds back an orgasm. He’s close- I realize everyone is stroking themselves, even the slaves. And it looks like everyone is as close as he is.

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