Tag Archives: FirefighterSIR

Story

Master in the Chair

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By FirefighterSir

One hand darted across the keyboard, tapping out orders as fast as the fingers could find the buttons. The slave waited for the instructions to appear on the screen but already knew what was to happen. Some of the items were already jumbled on the floor around the base of the chair.

The typing stopped, the Master was breathing heavily, staring at the slave.

Justin got down on his knees and began rummaging through the items on the floor, and then opened a box next to the chair. Inside were many black leather restraints. Justin glanced up at the tablet to make sure he was pulling the right items. He strapped the wrist restraints on, the leather collar around his neck with the slave dog tags. He pulled out a leather ball stretcher strap and sat back in front of the Master’s chair spreading his legs. The Master’s fingers tapped at the keyboard:

“Punch your balls.”

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Daily Thread

What happens at DZ Ranch Land and Cattle Company

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What happens at DZ Ranch Land and Cattle CompanyDear Metal,

I wanted to share some of the photos taken of the muscle slave over the weekend when it was out serving as a labor slave on the ranch. The slave was kept locked in a custom metal collar with locking screw and locking leg shackles.  The slave’s muscled arms proved too thick for our own locking wrist restraints, so we had to use an alternative set locked with padlocks.  After several days working on the ranch, totally naked with the heavy collar, the slave’s neck was very bruised and raw.  The slave endured the entire scenario while being beaten with a switch while it was put to work digging out stumps in the rock hard soil of the ranch.

The slave wore the restraints the entire time, even when sleeping, and his salty sweat actually made the metal get rusty in places.

I am sure you and your readers will enjoy the photos.

—Captain

DZ Ranch Land and Cattle Company

slavepath slaveshovel slavesuckfar slavetruck

 

UPDATE: The shackles were custom made by BootsNCamo from Recon if readers are looking to order a set.

 

If you are a well-built muscle slave, you can learn more about DZ Ranch Land and Cattle Company by looking up FirefighterSIR on Recon.

Story

DZ Ranch Land and Cattle Company – Part 2

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By FirefighterSIR

Part 2: The Beast

Travis heard more than saw the slave called The Beast.

The blond jock had been on the ranch for months now.  His cock weighed heavy inside the clear plastic chastity device, his shaved balls swollen with loads of cum waiting for release.   His muscled body, built strong by years of demanding football coaches, was now at its peak.  The guards and Masters of DZ Ranch had seen to that, honing him with precision workouts and a full schedule of hard labor in the oak studded confines of the remote ranch under the snowy gaze of the volcanic peaks of Lassen and Shasta in far Northern California.

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Story

DZ Ranch Land and Cattle Company – Part 1

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By FirefighterSIR

Travis knew it was too late, but he was already inside the gate.

Sweat dripped down his pits into his tight grey tank top and stained the edge where it tucked into the tight Wranglers, cinched up with a brown belt and a big rodeo buckle won back in high school.  The wet tank revealed his smooth skin spread tightly over his wrestler’s build, still white despite the days of drinking out on the lake that summer.

His thick striated pecs were topped with large flat nips while his arms highlighted the thick triceps and veined bicep from years of wrestling training.  A light sheen of golden hair fuzzed his forearms to match the tight buzz cut on his sweaty head topped with a worn camo ball cap.

Travis looked once more at the card he had been given a few days before.  Just looking at it made his cock jump:

 

Unlock your true potential. Challenge yourself, dive deep, and become the man you want to be.  Wrestlers and Footballers preferred.  A Life changing experience.  DZ Ranch Land and Cattle Company

 

Followed by a handwritten password for the company website.

He had just left the big Bass Pro Shop down in Manteca when a dark uniformed man had approached with a smile.  The slick fast talk had not distracted Travis from looking over the muscled, bearded Daddy who proffered the card.  He said he was looking for models for a new hunting lifestyle magazine.  A lean, muscled biker with a drooping trucker mustache and dark glasses had accompanied the first man, constantly scanning the entrance for other prospects while the Daddy spoke.

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