Tag Archives: chastity

Story

Journal to Hell – Part 03

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By rts

male bondage storiesBut although he succeeds in opening the snaps on the fly of my leather jeans, he is frustrated and unable to reach my cock and balls as they are tightly contained by my piss-soaked leather jock. He moans, his body suddenly jerks with another shock, and bites down hard on my encased package. As I grunt with the sudden pain, the skinhead re-enters the cell, laughing at the sight. “Great to see two helpless leather faggots trying to eat cock.”

He walks over, straddling Jake and sitting down hard on him, pinning his head tight into my crotch. He shoves a water bottle into my mouth and squeezes, forcing me to gulp down the entire contents. Holding the empty bottle tight into my mouth, he pinches closed the nose holes of my hood, and I struggle for air while Jake is desperately reacting to multiple shocks and his inability to breathe with my wet jock rammed into his face.

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Story

The WORC Program – Part 18

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By Joshua Ryan

The rest of the winter … What happened? Nothing. Not even another trip to the bedroom. Bottom line: I was still a workie. I was still a house servant. I was owned by the current partner of my former partner. They had their breakfast, lunch, gym, dinner, movies, friends. I cleaned up after them. I also got up on the long ladder and dug out the gutters. I dragged the dead possum out of the storm drain. Cicero paddled me for stealing a cookie that was supposed to go on Jerry’s birthday cake. My only hope was that Mike and Jerry were hazing me, using me, shaming me, until one day they’d decide to let me go. If I could have shamed myself more, I would have, just to get this to end. I would have worn a leash every day. I would have slobbered at their feet. I would have begged them to rape me. But maybe that would just have made them want to keep me. Yeah, and maybe their favorite way of torturing me was to let me think they’d forgot all about me.

OK, eventually they’d get tired of that. Wouldn’t they? And then they’d let me go. I wished I had somebody to help me figure things out. I wished I had somebody to touch and make love to. I wished I was back with Ace. But if I was ever gonna get out of this, I had to stay in the House and live with a bunch of dumb hopeless faggots and bust my ass to keep Mike and Jerry’s toilets clean.

Continue reading The WORC Program – Part 18 →

Story

Teddy Bear – Part 04

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By Taurus

Teddy Bear in a Toy Box

The other day, Master told me he’d invited someone over to play for a week. I asked him about it, but he never disclosed any more information than the fact that he was a male sub.

…I think I already know that Master is gay.

In all seriousness though, I felt really happy for him. Master has been trapped with me for a long time. Even though he says he loves me all the time, I’m sure at some point he gets burnt out and needs some space.

When the visitor arrived, Master led me in my best outfit to the door to meet him. I wore the beefiest shackles with the heaviest chains and the biggest plug I could keep in my ass. He put a leather harness on me, something which he saves for special occasions. Even my hair got the same special treatment. Master went to town on my beard and chest hair with a hairbrush to fluff it up.

And here I was, restrained in as much bondage as I could be in while still being able to move around, and with a beard like a dark brown cloud. I adore this look, and if we’re receiving guests I might as well show up at my best – in Master’s design. I was missing nipple clamps maybe, but that could make my chest look cluttered, so I’ll pass. For the last touch, Master fastened on a small red ball gag, pulled very tightly to put a dent in my beard. The red ball sank into my mouth, giving a contrasting but complimentary dash of colour to my dark brown hair.

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Story

Teddy Bear – Part 03

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By Taurus

Teddy Bear Wants a Snack

Alec is a good slave. This is NOT up for debate.

When I give him orders, he follows them flawlessly. Regardless of what I do to him, he seems to be able to take it in stride.

When we have down time together, he naps, cradled in my arms. The time displayed on the clock no longer provides context to my life; minutes, hours, days lose meaning.

Moments aggregate in stealth and clump into a whole afternoon. My heart melts to goo, and my body feels like floating. Before I know it, I mirror his smile on my face, and scratch his irresistible beard in bliss.

Then he laughs gently, and I stop thinking. Whatever work I set out to do, however crucial, then becomes inconsequential.

Continue reading Teddy Bear – Part 03 →