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By Joshua Ryan
Chapter 9: A Slight Change of Plans
While I was at breakfast—very early, very light–the hotel slaps came to my room and picked up my bags. I didn’t need to do anything to get them from there to the back of the limo. The only things I had to carry were the real estate leaflets I’d picked up from the concierge. There were lots of glossy pictures of “elegant Wellingtons” and “baroque Bee hives,” each with “intimate facilities for family, grand space for entertainment, and bountiful St. Bevons gardens. Barracks for 5-10 staff.” The prices were not unreasonable, especially considering the current exchange rate.
When the airport slap opened the door of the limo, I had nothing to do except walk through security; the slappies would see that my bags got through. It all happened so smoothly, I didn’t think about the backpack until I got to the boarding area. I guess that’s where you usually remember stuff you forgot. It would be ridiculous to go back to the hotel to turn the thing in—and who cared about it anyway? Besides, I didn’t really know where it was. Probably the hotel slappies had found it in the room and shipped it to the airport along with the other bags. It was silly, but I had that uneasy feeling I got whenever I thought I’d lost something. The item might not be important, but loss of control was always disturbing. It was a tendency I’d been trying to conquer. The only thing to do was just ignore the “problem.” I sat near my gate, reading about St, Bevons properties and ignoring the stupid backpack.
By findingmyself1986
You agreed to this last month, and once you locked the chastity belt on there was no turning back. Of course you could just decide not to show up for the party, but why do that? First off that would mean no main attraction, and second you will likely never see the keys to that belt again.
While most guests will be getting ready after work, your part preparation starts Wednesday night after your last solid meal. You decide to make it a light one as you know what lays ahead. Thursday morning finds you preparing jello and broth for your liquid diet and drinking the colon prep you snuck from the hospital. The cramps are hell but necessary for tomorrow morning.
Friday morning finds your nerves at their peak as you power on. Hopefully by Monday morning your dick will be free of its steel prison. You make the drive to the party location and upon arrival, strip and strap yourself standing spread eagle, blindfolded, outside in the fenced backyard as you wait for the doms to arrive. Your only hope is that UPS or Fedex does not show up with a package to leave out back.
By Rubrpig
Marc looked around and found that he really could not focus due to the sedative he had been given by his psychiatrist who was now in complete charge of him while he was being assessed as ordered by the court. He fell asleep and woke up later laying on his side. His left arm was numb from being trapped under him while he had slept. The thick heavy leather pads of the cell allowed for support as he struggled to sit up. He had been in a canvas straitjacket before but the heavy leather jacket he was currently strapped in was thicker and stiffer so it made it difficult for him to move properly.
The bright lights in the padded cell made the white leather pads glare so he was constantly squinting from the glare. He sat there and he found himself feeling very anxious and nervous. The total lack of any external sound caused him to be disoriented. The only sounds were the creaking of the jacket, the sounds of the jacket rubbing against the leather pads and his breathing. He screamed in frustration but nothing happened.
At DaddysBondageBoys.com, Dirk Caber just keeps adding ropes and pulling them tighter in the process. Drake Jaden’s ball sack just stretches and then stretches further. How far can he go?
See the video at Daddy’s Bondage Boys
Title of this video series: Tied and Tormented, Part 2
Models in this shoot: Drake Jaden, Dirk Caber
By Desert Pioneer
Thursday 9PM, driving north on SH-99 Jack is getting tired. Looking for something to occupy his mind on this crazy lonesome drive Jack fantasizes about maybe pulling into a rest stop. Not a too busy rest stop, a few cars and a few trucks, on a not so major highway. The trucks are silent and cool, like they are there for a while. The men’s room has a single bulb light over the door and no traffic in or out of the door. Stuff that a fantasy is made of.
Jack’s black roadster pulls into the middle of the stop with a full view of the men’s room door. He waits and thinks about what he might run into in the restroom. Cutting his thoughts against reality he considers that this is interior northern California; not a liberal in your face queer community, but likely full of red necks who are hot in fantasy but pretty dull, and sometimes dangerous, in reality.
“What a shitty fantasy” he thinks. It comes from his angle of keeping fantasy close to his reality which, in Jack’s mind, pulls it more toward possibility. Unfortunately, the reality that serves as his base, ain’t all that. He’s had a few encounters that introduced fetishes. Yet google “fetish” and get a list hundreds long. So that’s all Jack; on the low side of fetish experience and a big bucket list containing things (1) that he has done, (2) he has fantasized about, and (3) stuff that he hasn’t even thought of yet. Of course, the big one that all bottom’s have; being used by a man, a stranger, for his calling of that man, regardless of any service to the bottom. Fear of strangers stoked Jack from head to toe.
Check out scenes from this shoot at Daddy’s Bondage Boys
Title of this shoot: Breaking and Entering: Part 8
Description: Time for this perp to get a little attitude adjustment. First his limbs are stretched to point where Draven Torres is wailing for release, and then a little dick electro is applied. About now Draven wishes that he didn’t have a dick.
Keywords: Restraints, tattoos, hairy, daddy, the rack, CBT, electro
Features: Draven Torres, Matt Stevens
Site: DaddysBondageBoys.com
By Taurus
To say day 164 was a momentous day was an understatement.
Almost half of James’ stay had elapsed, and not once he had been released from chastity. There were the regular sadistic medical checkups that allowed him two minutes of freedom every 30 days, but if anything, it was worse than being locked up.
Consider it more than 5 months of continuous chastity where anything more than a totally flaccid cock would start to hurt. And consider it chastity where the locked person is always naked, and the slightest brush on his hairy, hairy body – very common – would trigger an erection.
To summarise his experience in one paragraph, James would start to hurt if he got hard at all, and he got hard if he closed his eyes, looked down, or if he made any movement at all, for that matter. Safe to say, this experience was mostly, if not composed entirely of, great pain.
Today, there was a hope that all this would change.