At Brutal Tops, a bound captive is secured in place. The bullies whack his arse till his vulnerable cheeks are burning red. WHACK! The pathetic sod can’t do anything but scream. Haha! That’s nothing compared to the relentless paddling Master Derek gives! This pristine arse DESERVES to be destroyed!
Watch the VIDEO at Brutal Tops
By Joshua Ryan
Chapter 11: Come On In—We’re Open
The place didn’t look like much. It looked sorta like a motel and sorta like a grade school—one story, flat roof, glass doors, dorky lookin sign . . . . But there were lots of plants around, so you couldn’t see everything. I guess I was too nervous to be disappointed, but I’d expected something more impressive. I looked at my phone. I was 20 minutes early.
So what now? Would I get in trouble if I was early? Disobeying orders! OK, I’d wait. I’d spend my last few minutes just hanging out, thinking.
I looked around. There was a bus stop on the corner, and a bench with nobody on it. I sat down there and looked back at the SLP building across the street. I could see some more of it now. Behind the office building or whatever, there was a long concrete wall, with razor wire on top. I hadn’t seen much razor wire in my life, just in bad neighborhoods I guess. It was used to keep people out of places. Like junk yards. Or the back of some storage place. But the stuff I was looking at–that was obviously to keep people in. People like me! Once I went through those doors, I’d be inside the razor wire.
Pledgemaster Carter Woods is committed to keeping his pledges in line, so when it’s time to deal with unruly pledge Trevor Harris, Carter knows just how to regulate that ass.
See the video at Next Door Studios
Title of this video: Fraternity Fantasies: Take It, Pledge
“Keep your eyes on the camera” — It’s what Scott tells Tommy to do before subjecting him to corporal punishment
You can see more like this over at Reluctant Young Men
Tom uses his hand, a riding crop, yardstick, paddle and cane on Jordan’s firm butt. Tears well up in Jordan’s eyes at several points. He tells Tom that he has been good since his last spanking and doesn’t deserve to be spanked as hard this time. Tom might have agreed with Jordan, but Jordan makes this a hard spanking on his own by repeatedly screwing up the count. At the end of this video, you’ll also hear Jordan discuss what it’s like to be spanked on the Bondage Cross.
See the VIDEO at Spanking Straight Boys
Title of this episode: Jordan on the Bondage Cross
Check out what happens at Reluctant Young Men. Ashley is a 38-year-old, gay porn star from London, England, with a lean, defined body, a submissive who still bears the scars from his last session with another dom. Now he’s tied to the spanking bench, and he gets punished for showing up with the marks of another man. He moans, pants and whimpers, squirming and twisting in his restraints.
See the VIDEO at Reluctant Young Men
Title of this vid: British Submissive Spanked
By Joshua Ryan
Chapter 5: You Must Take the Tour
A taxi took me to the headquarters of the State Labour Program. It was a couple of miles from the hotel, and on St. Bevons, a couple of miles makes a lot of difference. The street was wide but almost deserted. A few old frame houses straggled along, but most of the frontage was warehouses or wholesale places—Stor-It-Here, Pure Products, Empress of India Auto Parts . . . . Because it was St. Bevons, everything was wreathed with tropical foliage, even the razor wire fences around the parking lots. But you could see why this part of town wasn’t on the tourist itinerary.
The cheerfulest place was actually the SLP building. Nothing to brag about, but they did make an effort to fix it up in a “colonial” style, and the foliage facing the street was well maintained. Even the little strip of grass in front looked like it was trimmed by hand, every day. As soon as my shadow approached the glass doors, a slappie jumped out and held one wide for me, bowing. A man at a desk—a real man, not a slappie—stood to welcome me, asked if I were Mr. Lansing, and said that Major Timmons was awaiting me. Within a minute I was comfortably seated at a table in the Major’s spacious office, watching the morning light play across his ebony features.
This is a story about adults, and for adults only. It is entirely a work of fiction.
PART 1
Chapter 1: Greetings from Your Vacation Planner
I’d never heard of the place before Roger mentioned it. Roger was my online friend. We’d been chatting about BDSM stuff; that’s how I met him, on a BDSM site. That night. we were getting into prisons and chain gangs.
“But if you are seriously interested in the study of penal servitude,” he said, “I would recommend that you examine St. Bevons. It has, allow me to suggest, appropriate ideas on the subject of penal labor.”
That’s the way Roger wrote. I hadn’t been chatting with him very long, but I’d learned a few things about him. He came from an Indian family that had settled in the West Indies, and he’d been sent to school in England. It wasn’t natural for him to use contractions or not to spell an idea all the way out. “If you are seriously interested in the study of penal servitude . . . . ” I could imagine the way he pronounced the phrase: in-ter-EST-ed, PEE-nall, SERR-vi-tude. He never discussed his profession except to say that it involved “international investments, that sort of thing.” When I replied, “That’s what I did too, before I’d made enough money to quit,” he didn’t rise to the bait. He wouldn’t say much more about himself—although his reference to “staying in Switzerland for a while—business again” and his comment that “the hot men in Paris always seem to cluster around the Ritz, especially if they have no money” let me know what social class I was dealing with.
“What’s St. Bevons?” I asked.
