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By Jim
David stood in his complex’s lobby, staring down anxiously at his phone. On it was the logo of the Game, along with a countdown: “00:00:01;24”. That damn timer had been ticking down for what felt like an eternity. For David it practically was; he’d been waiting for his chance to compete for almost 4 months now. 4 months of evenings filled with cruel tortures, mind-numbing tasks, and above all the aching, unrelenting pangs of horniness. This month had to be it. It would finally be his chance for release, he could feel it!
His heart raced as the timer ticked down to the very last seconds: three, two, one…
This month’s contestants are: #37, #29, #14, #43, #20
Stand by for orders at 20:00 hours, EST. Failure to report is punishable by a penalty month; repeat offences will result in automatic forfeiture.
David’s heart sank. Another month of waiting! How long until he’d be able to get even a chance at his freedom? Dejected, he headed for the stairs.
By Cutieboy90
Shawn was your typical all-American dumb frat boy. Muscular body, cute face, ripped jeans, and Abercrombie T shirts. He partied, drank, played around, and took everyone and everything around him for granted. Now, one would think that a guy who had flunked out of college twice already, and chose to try again a third time would have learned something from his mistakes, or at least cared on some subconscious level about his future.
Not Shawn. The first week of classes he acted like every other high school jock ready to get up to no good with their new adult life. He was rarely on time for classes, never studied, barely participated, except in anything athletic. We were both on the swim team, and though he could almost keep pace with me, he was never seriously considered for competition due to his lack of effort. Every night, he’d stumble into the dorm, drunk off his ass, shuffle around for a while, before passing out anywhere but on his cot. As a serious student with early morning lab classes, this was not an acceptable situation.
But I knew his kind, sitting down for a conversation mediated by the RA was not going to be any help. Logic and reason are lost on these guys. I would find another way.
Check out these new pictures sent in by Awesome Roper, of Prisoner805 locked up at The Edge Jail and Dungeon:
Awesome Roper was kind enough to share a list of the gear Prisoner805 is locked in:
Deluxe Tight Hood from Mr. S
Chain and Master Lock Magnum 2-3/4 in Shrouded Disc Padlock from Home Depot
Bulldog Harness 2.0 with Grey Piping from Mr. S
Wrist Manacles “Plug System” No5802X from Parus
Handmade Steel Chastity Belt Model CS-500/A from Fetish Felix
Peerless Model 703C Leg Irons from Handcuff Warehouse
By Cutieboy90
(To start at Part 1 of Milking Day, click here)
I stared at the wall, like I had for the past hour or so. No, not by my own choice. I was strapped in this position, my ankles spread with a bar, and my arms behind me. A thick leather muzzle kept me quiet, and there was a tether attached to the top of it keeping me in place. There was also a tether around my full, aching balls, which were already feeling a squeeze from that infernal steel chastity cage that’s been locked on them for over two months.
I huffed into the thick leather padded muzzle as Mark finally approached. I heard him set something down behind me, before he came into my field of vision. He patted my head, and kissed my gagged mouth.
“You look so fucking pissed!” He teased, pinching my cheek. I huffed a muffled obscenity at him as he chuckled. “Now now, don’t forget who’s in charge here,” Mark firmly slapped my nuts, instantly making me double as much as the restraints would allow. My nuts were already so tender, I was close to tears at the third strike of his palm. But of course, my sadistic boyfriend just smiled and continued to tap his palm into my package until I was on the verge of passing out. Damn did it hurt.
He kissed my forehead, and stepped away while I caught my breath. Much to my surprise, he began to unbuckle the heavy leather muzzle from my head. I didn’t get to say anything, as he kept his hand over my lips once the leather was pulled away. I kissed his fingers, knowing it would probably be several hours before I got the chance again. I closed my eyes, as he fingered my mouth. Evil he might be, I still loved him.
By Cutieboy90
It’s been three weeks since the last milking day, when my boyfriend Mark sabotaged my chance for release. Three weeks, and just one more to go before I could try to reverse the roles, and lock him up for a while. To date my dick has been locked in a steel cage for eight weeks, and I really miss stroking it.
Mark had been having some difficult weeks at work. Layoffs meant there were fewer people to do the same amount of work, but the work still had to be done. Mark’s had longer days, and he was so tired when he got home. Too tired to go to the gym, too tired to eat, too tired to even jerk off! I was worried about him.
One late afternoon, Mark pulled his car into the garage. I heard the door close, and waited for him to come in. I’d been preparing dinner, and was surprised he was home so early. Even though he had gone to work so early, it hadn’t made any difference as he still came home so late. Today was odd, that he was home early. And he was taking his time coming inside. Huh, how strange, I thought as I washed my hands. Better go check on him.