Super Bowl Sunday continues with this post from the men of Bound Jocks. Josh West hooks up his electrical box to Derrick Hanson’s ass and thighs and shocks him until he is begging for mercy. At the end, Josh allows his wide receiver to cum.
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Morgan Black is helplessly hogtied on a metal table as he squirms to get free. His ass is exposed and vulnerable as his ankles are tied securely to his thighs. Unable to get free by himself, he is rewarded by being flipped over and allowed to have his hands free to stroke his huge cock for the camera.
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By AlphaMetal
Day 3, Afternoon – A Prisoner Gets Used
The boys had only been resting for about an hour after the work detail when a man they had never seen walked into the dormitory. He was an older man — in his late 60s at least — with a gray t-shirt stretched over a large beer belly and a messy gray beard. The boys looked at his feet and saw that he was wearing black combat boots and jumped to attention.
The man with the gray beard looked over the four boys with obvious sexual desire. Pretty Boy remembered the “arrangement” that had been made — he wouldn’t have to suffer pain but in return he had become the camp’s sex toy – and he figured Gray Beard was there to fuck him. Pretty Boy imagined being penetrated by this fat man and wondered if it had been planned as punishment for disobeying the Commander the day before. But it was still a good arrangement. Pretty Boy hated pain and if he just closed his eyes and thought of his Master he could get through this.
Gray Beard examined the four boys in their blue prison scrubs, looking over each one closely. Pretty Boy was a cute twink but he was a bit too thin for his scrubs and they hung on him loosely. The Colonel was a total DILF — Cody would have bottomed for him happily — but the Colonel was obviously too old for Gray Beard, who didn’t give him a second look.
Continue reading Training Week at the Campground: A Novel – Part 10
By TheBadOne
Before he leaves, Trevor locks the end of my armbinder to a ring on the floor, then shackles my legs together, and locks those to the ring too. He walks out wordlessly, leaving me in a puddle of his piss, moaning uncontrollably as I lay on my side in a strict hogtie. And then nobody else comes. I don’t hear anything except a drip of water from somewhere, echoing loudly into the space I’m in.
I think back to my lengthy sleepsack scene with Master Shephard. He told me that he was leaving me plenty of slack so that I could last, but I even thought that was tight. Now I realize that if this is the standard for tight bondage, the amount of wiggle room I had that night was in fact, comparative freedom. I long for it, for even the tiniest amount of purchase, for the ability to flex my arms even slightly, to be able to make any sound at all other than a pathetic, gagging, drooly sob.
As the minutes pass and my eyes continue to adjust to the dim light, I suddenly realize that there’s a mirror on the ceiling above me. I look up at it and see the gimp I’ve been turned into. Even alone, I’m humiliated. Vega was right, I thought I was some kind of a hot-shot, and I got put in my place.
By GratDelay
This story is dedicated to Strappeddown, who inspired me to go back to work on it. And to Padlock86, who forced me to finish it.
Toben
One of the features in my control app told me Aaron was still here. That was handy. I stuck him in place and did a quick scan of the locker room, the coaches’ office, the showers… I stopped along the way and grabbed a duffel from my locker, then I went to see Aaron.
“OK,” I said, “All the doors are shut, I turned off most of the lights, and I made sure everyone else has left. Will anyone walk in on us?”
He shook his head. “Not likely.”
“Good. You’ve been bogarting my suit long enough, so let’s wrap this up.”
I couldn’t figure out the expression on his face. I had expected more fear, I guess.
“I was kinda hoping you’d let me keep the suit,” he said.
“As if. And let you sneak up on me with it?”
“I thought about that. You could rig it so that it won’t work on you. Maybe you wear, I don’t know, a pendant that repels the suit, just like I couldn’t touch your phone.”
That stopped me for a minute. It was a good idea.
By Thunder
Dear Metal:
While I know this does not chronologically fall within the story of my training I have been describing the last few months when time and my Master allows (sorry about the delay on part 9), He asked me to send you a special real time update as he thought you might be interested in our New Year’s weekend. For the readers, I need to remind them that what I am describing, now, is almost nine and a half years after the transition and the training that I was receiving at that time. Now, at 52, I am semi-retired thanks to a tremendous opportunity to sell off part of the firm my colleague William and I built a few years ago and that has left me the opportunity to spend more time at home focusing on Alan, my Husband Master who has kept me in a hybrid role of husband, dog, slave, and gimp throughout the last ten years as we have evolved our lives, friendships, and our contracts with each other.
Now that all of that is out of the way, we are wrapping up our New Year’s parties after having hosted two the past two nights. I thought you might be interested in hearing about them as they could not have been more different.
On Monday, New Year’s Eve night, we played host to Alan’s work party, hosting the 100 or so employees, friends, and their partners from his company to our home outside of Atlanta and then, New Year’s Day, we hosted all of our friends who are “in the know”. When we entertain, Alan is fastidious that everything be as close to perfect in our home as possible so, he had arranged for my schedule to have me home all week so I could focus on the lists of things that he wanted done prior to the parties. He completely controls my calendar at work and home (my assistant is the slave of a Master we know), so none of this was shocking and each day, when he left for work, he allowed me on two legs so I could work all day on the lists he gave me.
By Cutieboy90
I had one goal. Just one. Over and over again I repeated that one rule, just the one; no matter what, I was not to cum within the next minute. And when that minue was over, then set the goal again for the next minute, and so on and so forth, until my boyfriend wished it.
I was on all fours, naked save for the blindfold tied over my eyes, the ropes keeping me in place, and the steel chastity cage that had been locked on my junk for the past three weeks. Now, this really wasn’t anything unusual, as my boyfriend Mark and I are bondage addicts, and while we’re both switches, I tend to be more submissive. Chastity, of course, brings out my submissive side, making it easier for both of us. Today was my milking day, and I was just so fucking ready for it.
My body was shivering with anticipation and horniness. Mark had said he had a surprise for me, and had left me here blindfolded, what seemed to be hours ago. Whatever surprise he had in store, no doubt it had something to do with my milking, or with bondage, or something fun for one of us. My mind would go crazy with all the wild ideas I could think of, each one making my dick strain in the cage, and my full aching balls churn. I’d shoot my three-week load if I didn’t mindfully tell myself not to.
