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Story

Storage Space: Sentenced to Service – Part 02

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By BootDeputy

Several days past that consisted of bondage and isolation. Every time someone came in to adjust or change his situation, Logan yearned for their touch, for their voice, any sort of interaction. He didn’t know if it was the same Man who had spoken to him when he first arrived that was manipulating him each time. Logan remembered Master Dallas implying there were two of them. He also remembered Dallas saying that Logan may never see their faces during his time with them.

The brief glance of the Man in full uniform and hood that covered his face was the closest he had to seeing another human being and it already felt like an eternity ago.

He was allowed to shower after lengths of time. This occurred in a small closet sized room that contained a single shower head. The water was always lukewarm or colder. He took this time to stretch as well after putting his skin back on. Logan started to see it that way and liked the process of putting it back on.

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Story

The Weight of Desire

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By Justin I

Justin I male bdsm storiesNow…

Finally, Brock spoke, his voice calm but with an edge of teasing amusement. “So, what do you think, Jaxon? Should I take the straps off and let you go? Or should I leave you here like this? Let someone else come in and find you?”

Jaxon’s heart raced at the thought, panic flashing in his eyes as he struggled to lift his head. His body screamed in protest, muscles aching from the workout, but the idea of being left there—helpless, restrained, and locked cock exposed—was too much. His voice came out in weak, breathless protests. “No… don’t. Just… let me go,” he managed to say, his voice cracking slightly, the remnants of his frustration mingling with a hint of desperation.

Brock raised an eyebrow, considering Jaxon’s plea for a long, drawn-out moment. Then, with a small, almost amused nod, he reached down and finally undid the straps from Jaxon’s wrists. Jaxon’s arms fell limply to the mat, his body too drained to do much more than collapse in relief.

But Brock wasn’t quite done. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small, sleek business card. Without a word, he leaned over Jaxon’s body and placed the card on Jaxon’s chest, the weight of it almost mocking in its simplicity.

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Story

Try Not to Laugh

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By TickleToy

This story was written for JamesBondageSx.

As the last leather cuff fastened shut around my wrist, I wondered again what I’ve gotten myself into. Held tight against a padded horizontal bench, I tried to readjust position but I was stretched out just enough to be immobile, but not uncomfortable. I sighed with a mix of anticipation and arousal, the cool air in the cellar sending a shiver up my naked body.

My captor moved from the head of the bench down to my feet, inspecting each restraint. Thick cuffs locked around my wrists and ankles, buckled tightly, with a length of rope pulled taut to each corner. Smaller straps looped around my elbows and thighs strip away the last pieces of potential freedom I might have. After a moment, he looked me in the eyes and smiled, obviously satisfied.

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