Tag Archives: Brutal Tops

The Vacation – Part 08

By Rubrpig

4798 woke up and lay on his bunk in the blacked-out cell he had been confined to since he was transferred to the super max wing of the correctional facility.  He shifted trying to get comfortable but the heavy steel 5-point chains he was locked in weighed heavily on his chest as he lay there.  Sitting up made no difference as the weight of the chains dragged at the heavy steel collar of the chains forcing him to slum forward.

Just then the light flashed on in his cell and he knew that it was morning and he would be fed soon.  The food slot in the door slammed open and his food tray slid in.  The food was always the same and tasteless for the most part.  Boiled chicken, rice and boiled carrots.  He was fed the same 3 times a day without any variation.

He finished his food and waited for the food slot to open in the door and he shoved the tray out with his right foot.  He sat back and waited till the guards checked the tray and the slot slammed shut.  He knew his hour in the exercise yard would be soon.

Continue reading The Vacation – Part 08

The First Load Up

By SlickChaser

At some point, 27 and dumb, I realized dating wasn’t my thing. I didn’t care for girls, guys or both in a long term relationship in terms of life goals like buying a house, having kids or going above and beyond to look impressive to social media. I did want to experience some levels lf BDSM without the same commitments. Some dabble in one location with a munch group eventually lead to some dabbling with a bi-man (called “Gerry” for this story) after moving to a new location and job.

Gerry responded to some posted messages on a FetLife board post with my new local munch. Over time, I would visit and the order of operation was pretty simple; he would use some bondage gear and his setup mini-dungeon in the 2nd bedroom of his condo while I had to provide something everytime to help elevate the experience. Week one it was a ball gag head harness; week two a zipper PVC hood with only nostril and mouth opening; week three a collar he recommended; week four a new set of leather cuffs; week five a leather chest harness and butt plug harness with various sizes butt plugs. It was week five when the experience became a two sided affair, quite literally.

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Twenty-First Century Slavery – Part 02

By convict 975468

On the third or the fourth day—it was hard to keep track of time–the 12 civilian prisoners were allowed to dress in their own clothes.  Then they were chained up and moved by truck to the airfield, where they were taken into a military plane and locked to benches running along the side.  After a flight of several hours, they landed at another military base.  MP’s boarded the plane and unchained them from the benches.  They were led off the plane to an army truck, placed in the back, and secured.

Upon arriving at the base stockade, they were removed from the vehicle and led inside.  They went through two barred doors into a room with barred doors leading in several directions.  Their handcuffs and leg irons were removed and they were told to strip and put their clothes in the plastic bag given to each of them.  They were taken through the barred door to their right into what turned out to be a shower area.  They were sprayed with a foul smelling chemical and after a few minutes were allowed to shower it off.  They were issued olive-drab towels.  When they were dry, they were returned to the first room. The bags containing their clothes were gone, replaced by two stacks of skivvies and tee shirts.  One of the MPs said, “Civilians are not allowed to wear a uniform, so you’ll have to make do with these.”

Continue reading Twenty-First Century Slavery – Part 02

Pleroma – Part 07

By Taurus

Part 7 – incarceration-adx_20x

Flanked by boring concrete walls, Luke had to try and find new and interesting ways to keep himself active that was not touching himself – the hologram that now formed the ceiling of the cell bore this very commandment, among other warnings that safewords are not in play, that any attempts to escape or pleasure oneself would result in the swift application of extremely strict and punishing bondage, and that excretion of waste matter would be automatically enforced for him.

Luke was no philosophist, but he was at least aware of the fact that if he wanted to truly escape, he would have to first escape digitally by countering the super-powerful software that knew his every thought, then escape physically by getting his naked body out of whatever shackles that held him.

In short: “difficult” was the word.

Continue reading Pleroma – Part 07

The Bear Trap – Part 09

By FirefighterSIR

Part 9: Work

“Only 3 more feet!” shouted the Captain just before he began swinging the pick again.  The slave did not look up but continued to shovel the dirt and rocks out of the trench he was buried in up to his knees.  The sweat ran down into his face and made it hard to see.  But when he did take moment to look up, he could see the Captain was right.

They had almost finished the trench, its end marked by a tiny yellow flag snapping in the warm breeze blowing down the length of the canyon.  The Captain had taken the lead on the digging, swinging the pick to break up the soil enough for the slave to shovel it out and carve the trench.  The only fortunate thing about the project is that it was almost done and that the day had not been hot.  The slave had been trying to focus on each shovel full of dirt, pushing himself to complete each toss, not looking up, should he lose focus and strength on another grueling day as the 24/7 labor muscle slave at the Bear Trap Ranch.

The Bear Trap storyArranged just beyond the tiny flag were 8 concrete piers that the Captain and slave had cast days earlier.

The Captain had decided to build a new truck shelter with a solar array on the roof.  That meant digging and casting foundation piers and digging a 200-foot long trench across the dry grass from the camp compound to the new structure.  What that meant for the slave was days and days of backbreaking work.  The soil of the Bear Trap Ranch had long since given up the last of its moisture to the summer heat and even now, in September, months since the slave had been collared on the ranch, the ground was more like rock than soil.

Continue reading The Bear Trap – Part 09