Tag Archives: Jock Foot Fantasy

Thirty Hours

By rts

Part 1

I am wearing my 20-hole steel toe Rangers with tight black thick leather pants tucked in. The leathers have a removable codpiece, and centered over my butt is a round opening directly placed to give access to my butthole. My upper body is clothed in a tight leather shirt over which I am zipped into a heavy black collarless motorcycle jacket. My hands are gloved in leather gauntlets. I am standing in a very warm underground concrete cell waiting in silence and dressed as I was told to be.

Over my head there is a chain hanging from a pulley. The end of this chain is attached to a hand crank mounted on one wall. The cell is about 12 X 12 feet, windowless with only a steel door for access. I am excited standing here uncertain of what’s to come. I have only met this leather wearing skin online, I wanting to experience an inescapable bondage weekend in full gear, and he wanting to put a booted guy in some uncomfortable restraints getting off on watching the struggle. After discussing the gear I would be wearing, agreeing to be under his total control for the weekend, and he to respect my limits I prepped myself by fasting 24 hrs before our meet and gave myself a good cleanout. Following his instructions I found his place late Saturday morning and let myself in the back door then down the stairs to this underground cell. We had only met online and talked on the phone about our interests and we hit it off.

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Rented Out

By Bikermike

Tony guessed that there was something different as he rode his Fireblade onto Ray’s drive. His host (but strictly speaking his Master) would normally be waiting on the doorstep upon hearing the powerful motorbike slow and then stop only a few metres away from his front door. As he wheeled the bike into Ray’s garage his cock lengthened somewhat; at least as far as his chastity device would allow.

This was quite an uncomfortable sensation: every Sunday evening as he got ready to leave Ray’s house after a heavy BDSM session, Ray would give his sub a brutal masturbation then refit the chastity device over the now flaccid penis. This would remain in place until the following Saturday morning when the next weekend of sadomasochism would commence.Tony would always wince as Ray inserted the hollow urethral plug some two centimetres into the now imprisoned cock.

Tony rang the doorbell. ‘Come in boy!’ barked Ray from somewhere in the house. Tony entered finding Ray dressed in his normal clothes, not the usual tight leather jeans nor torso hugging T shirt that would normally greet his sub. ‘For a change, I am renting you out to a mate of mine while I entertain another lad, or should I say while he entertains me? Whatever; my mate James will collect you in his van within the next hour. I should warn you, he is really perverted! If you think I am a strict master, just wait until you have to serve him!’ Ray went on, ‘Just another warning: only ever look downwards, unless he tells you otherwise and do not speak unles spoken to and do everything he commands. If you break these rules he will whip you severely. He will then report back to me regarding your disobedience when I will give you another thrashing. Understand, boy?’

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Earn It Pup – Chapter 1

By Pup Shaggy

It was then and there that I found the second of my most favourite sounds, the first being the subtle ‘click’ of a padlock closing. I shook my head from side to side, hearing the metal jangle about. I must have had the biggest grin on my face because Alex had one too… Master Alex I should say… His collar, his name tag, his house… that’s who he really was now.

He’d given me the small leather box as soon as I entered his house. I’d been nervous, and rightly so. He hadn’t said anything, just smiled as he led me inside, and handed me the small box without a word. His lime green eyes stared at me thoughtful, and his smile was welcoming. He could tell I was nervous… I could feel the sweat under my arms… which only made me more nervous.

But then I’d lifted the lid of the box to find a supple black leather collar, 3 chrome D-rings decorating the outside of it. The buckle too was chrome, the pin ending in a small ring for a padlock to keep the whole thing on.

But most importantly, at least for me, was the name tag; a large silver bone clipped to the centre D-ring lay there, glinting in the hallway light above me. “Pup Shaggy” etched into it. The look I gave him must have been to his liking because he enveloped me in his arms laughing.

Continue reading Earn It Pup – Chapter 1

ImmobileRestraint – Chapter 06

By Nitro

Hey everyone! It’s been a long time since I’ve added to this story. Recently at an event I was approached by a fan who said he’d missed the installments, and it really motivated me to start writing again. Thank you all for your patience, there’s a lot more to come! To start at Part 1, click here.

—Nitro

 

When we last left Ian and Jake they were leaving the gym after a grueling workout. In the gym Ian calls the shots for them both, but outside the gym Jake controls everything. Jake has been locked in a metal ball stretcher for two days now and his large thick cock is safely sealed in a steel cage. After their workout Jake worked an XL butt plug into Ian’s tight hole and they are heading out to start what will prove to be a hard weekend.

“See you at the house, fucker. Go straight there, you won’t need anything from home,” Jake said, leaning in close and pressing on the base of the thick plug as he talked to his new property. Just a couple days ago this boy had no idea that his friend was also “ImmobileRestraint” online, the pics he had jerked off too so many times. He still has no clue just what the man behind that profile is capable of.

Ian carefully got into his truck sitting down very gently on the massive invader in his hole. This is by far the biggest thing he’s ever had in there, and according to his cock spreading the huge wet spot on his shorts he is really enjoying it. He watched SIR start to drive away and he put the truck in gear to follow him. Thinking about the weekend ahead the wet spot just kept growing. Every small bump in the road translated to a groan of pleasure from the firetruck parked in his hole. The drive took about ten very long minutes before pulling up in front of SIR’s home. If the neighbors had any idea what was kept in that house…

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Brig Story – Part 02

By Tommy Guns

When we got to the other room, I was ordered to sit on a chair, and another prisoner came in and took a pair of clippers and cut my hair and mustache off. I already kept my hair pretty close trimmed in the standard high and tight, but the brig haircut was even shorter, more like being back in boot camp, fresh off the bus, and getting your first Corps haircut. The loss of my well-trimmed and groomed mustache was a real pity. I had cultivated it and trimmed it with great care over the years, and it was one of my better features. Oh well, I supposed it was yet another part of the price I had to pay for whatever it was I had done to get myself locked up. At this point, I was more interested in what I was being charged with. It must have been pretty serious, given the high level of security they were using with me.

After the haircut, I was photographed, both full face and left and right profile, and then fingerprinted. This part of it was rather interesting, since they were taking no chances with me, and did not release more than one wrist at a time from the cuffs, and even then one of my guards had hold of my upper arm, while the other had his foot on the chain between my ankles. After a couple of sets of prints were taken, I was again fully shackled and led back to the holding cell I was first held in. They took my cuffs and shackles off once I was locked in the cell, and ordered to take the gown and slippers off and pass them through. I complied, and was given a set of utilities to put on, and a pair of flip-flops to wear with them.

Continue reading Brig Story – Part 02

Training the Sergeant – Part 7

By lthr_jock

Davis was gasping as he pounded up the pavement at the end of his eight-mile run. Going on a run was not unusual for Davis – the length of the run and what he was wearing was. He had on a pair of black Underarmour compression shorts, a black and orange pair of Adidas trainers and a sleeveless orange and black compression vest. He had on nothing else except his iPod, which was docked in a holder on his right bicep. Today’s run had been a good one, so he’d done eight rather than five miles. It felt like he was floating along, so he had cranked the music up and ran around oblivious to the stares of the public, who got an extremely good view of the bulge barely hidden by his shorts.

As he approached his house he saw someone stepping away from his doorstep. He pulled out his ear-buds. “Hey there – can I help you with something?”

The man turned and Davis recognised him, though he wasn’t totally sure from where. It was a 6-foot tall young black man – maybe in his late 20s. He was wearing a tight pair of leather jeans, boots and a white wife-beater vest under a leather jacket. His hair was neatly trimmed and he was clean-shaven.

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Busman’s Holiday – Part 23

By lthr_jock

Morrison sprawled out in the bed and stretched as he woke up. He yawned extravagantly, enjoying the way his toes tangled in the crisp clean sheets. He looked around the hotel room and scratched at his morning erection. He stopped, puzzled – had he dreamt he had returned to the prison? The memories were so clear – could he have dreamed that? Wondering at what was going on, he walked over to the window and pushed the curtains open to look outside, unworried that anyone would see his naked body through the glass.

The car park down below was speckled with vehicles and the quality of the light made him think that it was early morning. He leant against the window frame as he started to plan his day. His attention was drawn by movement beside a black Landrover. Someone had poked their head up from the other side of it and almost immediately ducked back down. Morrison watched the Landrover for any other movements and out of the corner of his eye saw some movement in the corner of the car park. It was close enough to the hotel that he couldn’t quite make it out and he pressed his face to the glass to try and make it out. He could see another black Landrover and what seemed to be movement on the other side of it.

Continue reading Busman’s Holiday – Part 23