NOTE: This single-part work by Taurus is a short sequel to his much longer story One Year.
As James spun around, all he saw was white, with the set of washbasin and toilet flashing grey intermittently.
When he eventually slowed down – he was not quite sure if it was double vision or nausea – there were two sets of personal hygiene stations.
It took James another few breaths to calm down enough that he could confirm once and for all that it was not just him – there were two sinks and two toilets on opposite corners of this cube-shaped cell, which was brilliantly lit on all its sides.
Raising his head, he slowly fell towards the ceiling, until his neck got tired enough to bring the rest of the cell back into view.
Disappointed that he could not fly, James lay down on the one unlit surface in the cell he had been on the whole time; a black leather mattress.
Continue reading It’s Been a Year
Normally at work on New Year’s Eve we are let out early. But this time I had work that needed to get done that day. Naturally we had chosen that day to go to a party, and I needed to get home to get dressed for it. The party was one in which my partner, Dan, was to be dressed as a police officer and I was to be dressed as an escaped criminal that he was returning to prison after capturing me. He would be putting me in an authentic prison uniform, one that we purchased on e-Bay, covered with a lot of chains.
Dan had a friend who worked in the state prison about 100 miles away, and he had gotten an authentic prison uniform and badge, as well as an authentic prisoner metal collar with the identification of a real-live prisoner on it, one that was in prison for life. We hoped to win the party’s contest for best dressed. Dan’s friend told him to make sure that these are not revealed to any law enforcement personnel, or he would get into trouble!
Continue reading New Year’s Party
[Please remember that EVERYTHING that happens on the Island is consensual. Although the use of safewords has consequences on the Island, they are always observed. If the situation called for it, the safeword would stop the scene. The fact that the slave would be rendered unconscious and would have to be carried away on a stretcher is academic. All limits have been agreed on upfront and are strictly observed. The slave in the story had long, detailed conversations with IslandMasterUK during which he was able to draw out all the slaves deeply hidden fantasies and part of the joy of the Island is that it is a “safe” environment where all these fantasies can be realised. Had the slave in our story not been so naïve (or horny and frustrated) he might have been a lot more prescriptive in his limits – but then again, where would the fun be in that? The limits we are seeing played out are the ones which drove the slave’s fantasies in the discussions.
I hope you are enjoying the story – it’s great to get your feedback either here or on my Recon account. If you have any suggestions for where the story should go let me know. After all – he signed up for a four-week holiday and we are only on the second day!!]
Master West leaned forward and clipped the leash onto my collar and disconnected the dildo cord. A yank on the lead pulled me backwards. I struggled to stand and follow him. My jaw ached, and I moved it from side to side to relieve my joints’ stiffness.
Continue reading Island Master UK – Part 07
At Hard Up Straight Guys — a site where straight men who are desperate for cash will do anything — Buddy shoots a load on his Master’s leg like he was humping it and is sent to the corner in shame.
See the video at Hard Up Straight Guys — where men end up doing things they never thought they would do on camera!
Title of this shoot: “Buddy – Part 3”
Mark gets his wrists bound to his ankles, with his long, shapely legs spread wide and his virgin hole exposed. He gets a butt plug in his ass.
See the video at Hard Up Straight Guys
Title of this shoot: Straight Becomes My Gay-Boy – Part 2
Unowned in NYC
It’s been over a month now since my sub became my gimp. While I’m on the job, or out with my buds, the excitement of knowing where he is and how he’s bound, and that he’s not moving until I got home, still keeps me hard through the better part of each day. But the intensity is lessening a little bit, week by week. It’s a relief for me, in a way, because my dick was getting chafed from stepping into the port-a-john to jerk off five or six times a day during those first couple weeks. The other guys had started razzing me about it — was I getting old man’s prostate? Going to jerk off again? If only they knew that’s exactly what I was doing.
That first week, the gimp was on my mind practically every second of every day. Horned up beyond belief, but tempered with a strong dose of concern. Maybe he’d overheat, or there’d be a fire or a gas leak at the house. Maybe he’d completely freak out and I’d come home to a zombie gimp, mentally broken beyond the point of what I wanted. Maybe some freak accident would clog up the air tube in his gag. The gimp and I had talked about all these dangers and more, in those last couple months leading up to his transformation. As far as he was concerned, the chances were so remote for any of these possibilities, that it was a no-brainer.
The potential risks were well worth the reward of him being allowed to truly live as my object. He didn’t have to twist my arm. I had just wanted to make absolutely sure he was aware of what he’d be getting himself into, and that he wasn’t off in a fantasy world, unaware of certain realities. By the time I’d decided I really wanted to do it with him, I wanted to be sure we weren’t going to get a few days or a few weeks into it just to have him try to get out of it or negotiate for something easier.
Continue reading Gimp Training, Week 5
Seems like Mac is always needing cash, and willing to do anything to get it. Today he gets stripped down, collared and leashed, renamed Buddy, walked and made to do pet tricks like begging for treats and playing fetch.
Se the video at Hard Up Straight Guys
Title of this shoot: Buddy – Part 1