Tag Archives: COLT

Story

Florida Trap – Part 10

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By Johnny Utah

Based on a suggestion by MetalbondNYC

The owners of the ranch I’d been working at had decided to sell the place. Bad news for me. I needed to find a new place to live and a new job. Sgt. Stiles had come over, and we walked back to the barn. It was a long quiet walk back to the barn. When we got there Sgt Stiles said, “I’m going to miss this place.”

There were just a few bales of hay and a few bits of tack around the barn. The barn had the lingering smell of horse and warm hay. Sgt. Stiles was in his sexy ass tight Wrangler jeans and a tight white T shirt. His jeans were tight enough for me to see the outline of a pair of handcuffs in his back left pocket. Sgt. Stiles ordered me to strip. That didn’t take long at all! I had on was my shorts and jock. He spun me around and cuffed me.

Continue reading Florida Trap – Part 10 →

Story

Island Paradise – Part 1: Chapter 10

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By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 10: Another Tour Has Been Arranged for You

I hadn’t been given anything to eat or drink, unless you think St. Bevons Mineral Water is a drink.  I guess the idea was to make me easier to break down under questioning—though pretty soon I realized that the “questions” were just accusations that I would not be permitted to deny.  It all showed that I was getting off pretty easy with a nolo contendere.

So that was over, and things were looking up, because just when I realized that I was famished, a man in a white uniform unlocked the door of the room where they were keeping me and handed me some food.  It was a ham sandwich and a glass of mixed juice.  I wondered if these were products of Dominion Fields.

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Story

My Trip to Jail

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By CellShocked

Hampton Jail in IowaUsually, it’s the decisions that I make quickly and then act upon them that are my best decisions.  This telling will emphasize how a recent weekend (09/10/21 – 9/13/21) will have forever changed my life.

I live in an area that is not completely rural but doesn’t have much going on either.  I live right off of an interstate and can be in Boston in a couple hours, NYC is a 5-hour bus ride away, Manchester airport is an hour and a half away, so I can get to places.  But where would I go?  I absolutely hate going somewhere alone.  Now don’t misunderstand, I can travel alone but it’s the destination.  I need someone to force me to do new things.  I am so passive that I have let the world pass me by for the past 45 years.  I failed to take risks and really take that leap of faith.  The only way I can rationalize it is that anxiety and depression have owned my emotions all of my life.

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Story

Gear 365 Revisited

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By Rubrpig

Adam stretched and yawned as he woke up. He sat up in bed and looked around feeling something was missing and he knew what it was. His Daddy was away visiting his elderly parents at their retirement home in Texas so was gone for a few days more. Even though they had been together for nearly 2 years and had recently married to confirm their commitment to each other, Daddy Mike’s parents were still not the most supportive of parents so when a visit was necessary, his Daddy would go alone to prevent the stress of a visit to Adam.

It was the weekend so not much was planned except for a hockey game that night. Adam was a goalie on a local team and he enjoyed the physical challenge of the game and of course the heavy goalie gear. His team mates knew and like his Daddy and so he was always included in the post game activities along with the wives and girlfriends of his team mates. He got out of bed and wandered into the kitchen to make coffee and figure out something for breakfast. He scratched his stomach and brushed his hand over the heavy steel cararra chastity which he had been locked into nearly 2 years ago. The belt was now just part of his body and he had even gotten over the concern of his teammates seeing the belt locked on him. It was now just accepted and Adam was now relaxed and happy with all aspects of his life now.

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Story

Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 16

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By PredicamentBondage

As Ben comes around, he finds himself sitting, naked, in a very solid bondage chair. His chest and stomach are tightly strapped to the vertical back of the chair. His thighs are strapped to the seat, and his ankles are strapped to the substantial front legs. Premium leather wrist restraints snuggly secure his arms to the upright stanchions so his hands are held uselessly to the side and just below the level of his butt. A snug collar ensures that his head doesn’t sag and his eyes face forward. The whole construction is of 4-inch square section welded steel that is powder coated black, and reeks of rock-solid quality.

Ben can’t move and is going nowhere until I release him.

My captive is a straight male office worker who keeps himself fit by going to the gym three times per week before work. He’s 26 years old, short spiked black hair, small landing strip goatee, dusting of chest hair, dusting of lower abdomen hair leading to a trimmed bush and shaved balls. His cock is about 7 inches, cut, straight with a pretty pink bell end that cries out to be tortured.

Overall, Ben is a very saleable commodity that I’m looking forward to training. He definitely gets my spunk rising, and I can easily see myself fucking his arse and mouth, and I’m looking forward to both in the coming weeks.

Continue reading Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 16 →

Story

Roger – Part 3

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By David Sellers

“Pick one.”

Roger was sitting on a small stool near the head of the bondage board. He was fully dressed in his work clothes, smiling broadly, and holding two used condoms over my head. He had one in each hand. One was from last night’s fuck, he told me, one was from this morning’s fuck. And one was going about to be emptied into my mouth. My choice would determine whether I got this morning’s load — still warm, Roger said — or last night’s cold, congealed load.

They — my husband, my husband’s boyfriend — had come into the storeroom a moment ago. I wasn’t quite asleep, but the clicking of both deadbolts quickly brought me out of a bondage-induced dream state. Roger pulled the stool we keep in the storeroom over to the bondage board and removed my blindfold. He told me it had been six hours — “maybe a little more” — and then he held the condoms up.

“Choose,” Roger said.

He flashed me that smile again. He was loving this. I nodded my head toward Roger’s right hand.

“Too bad,” said Roger. “Last night’s condom.”

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Story

A Week in Chains – Part 5

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By asiancuffs

Part 5 – The last day of the camp

I woke up when the sky started to brighten and my sleep last night was good because I could have fresh air for the night. When I spent my last 2 nights in the cell, the air circulation was bad and to make it even worse, our odors filled the room. My clothes were muddy and sandy due to direct contact with the ground. I stand up and stretched my body. I couldn’t see anyone in my sight and I guessed they were still asleep. I felt my wrist shackles were sticking to my skin and I managed to slide them up to my arms.

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