Tag Archives: Jockstrap Central

The Roommate – Part 2

By RbbrStorage

Note: This story originally appeared on the RubberZone site. It is reposted here with permission.

Matt awoke the next morning to the feel of the rubber plug gag being pulled from his mouth.  He panicked against the tight bondage, confused until the slim memory he had of the night before slowly came back to him.  Matt struggled against the sleepsack to confirm that he was still laced down to the bed and strained to hear any sounds as he slowly remembered that the tightness around his head was his favorite rubber hood.  Movement on the bed reminded him that all of this was the work of his new roommate – this stranger whose name he still didn’t even know.

“Hey, um, you’re gonna let me out now, righ –AAGH!”

Matt screamed as a sharp jolt of electricity coursed through his balls bringing tears to his rubber-covered eyes.

“What the fuck?  That hurts like hell-AAGH!”

Matt just couldn’t clue in to the idea of keeping his mouth shut.

“Fuck, man, I’m just not into that sort of – AAGH!”


Continue reading The Roommate – Part 2

Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 03

By PredicamentBondage

Thirty minutes later, I walk back into the factory area where shit-head is still hanging, periodical swaying in time with twitching muscles. Its arms seem longer somehow. Its head hangs forward with its chin on its chest as if sleeping, but I know that sleep will not have come yet. It’s probably trying to cope with the pain.

There’s a damp pool forming on the bare concrete under the slave where it’s been perspiring over the last few hours. A seductive sheen covers every inch of its body, begging to be caressed.

Its cock is still rigidly pointing to its bellybutton. That must be painful in itself after being hard as iron for so long. Once again I place my stool between its painfully outstretched legs, sit down and touch my tongue to the tip of the cock. The sweet taste of pre-cum seeps over my taste buds. The cock instantly reacts by twitching violently and oozing pre-cum that bubbles up from the depths of the slave’s cock to lather the shiny helmet skin.

Continue reading Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 03

Brig Story – Part 03

By Tommy Guns

It didn’t take long before the pain in my shoulder blades from being cuffed in that position became severe. I could no longer feel my legs, just a tingling sensation every once in awhile in my calves. I have no sense of how long I remained kneeling, but what little light that had been coming through the cracks at the top and bottom of the cell door had long since disappeared, and I was in almost total darkness. From my years in the jungle, I had become used to extreme low light conditions, but this was beyond that. I could just make out the commode in front of me, and the outline of the steel rack next to me, but nothing else.

I must have dozed off, because I didn’t hear the key turn in the lock, and was startled by the sudden opening of the hatch and the rush of cold air that came with it. I could just make out one of my two guards of that morning when he entered my cell. He ordered me to turn around, but to remain on my knees. I tried to comply as best I could, but my legs would not cooperate. I fell over on my side, and my guard kicked my right leg and told me to get on my knees. I managed it after a couple of tries, and was facing him. I was on my knees, just about six inches from the zipper of his uniform trousers. I could see a bulge in his crotch, and something told me what to expect next. I was right.

Continue reading Brig Story – Part 03

Elevator Tickle Attack

By Jack

My buddy Jon and I used to work a retail job together. During one holiday season, we were working a gift fair in a large corporate office building down in the Financial Center. The merchandise was set up on tables, and we were using an SE/30 as a cash register and inventory control machine.

At night, we could just cover the merchandise with drop cloths, but we had to pack up the computer into a box and lug it up to the 33rd floor, to be locked in an office overnight.

This particular night, Jon offered to carry the boxed computer up, while I was in charge of the cash box (pretty lightweight).

Now, Jon is in his early twenties, a very clean-cut and handsome guy. He defines the term “jock”: extremely muscular, athletic, short brown hair, cocky attitude, very dry, deep voice.

When we entered the elevator up to the 33rd floor, it was well after 5:00 pm. No one was heading UP at that hour, so we were alone in the elevator. As I looked over and saw Jon struggling with holding that heavy box (easier to just hold it rather than to put it down on the floor of the elevator and then have to pick it back up again), I all of a sudden felt a mischievous streak rising in me.

Continue reading Elevator Tickle Attack

Busman’s Holiday – Part 05

By lthr_jock

Clark drove home, his persistently hard cock a distraction as he drove. As he drove, his free hand wandered down to caress his cock and he could feel it leaking, and the need to cum became more and more urgent. He pulled over into a handy layby and nipped out of the car into the bushes. Pulling his cock out, he only had to jerk it 3 or 4 times before exploding all over the leaves of the bush. Blushing furiously, he tucked his cock away and returned to his car for the drive home.

Once back, he quickly grabbed a shower and changed into some sweats, then logged onto his computer. The first thing he did was send Vickers a message. “Hey, great bit of kit again. Thanks. Hope to see those pics soon.”   He then started to browse some of the sites he had found previously and soon found himself stroking his cock again.

After a couple of days, Vickers sent him an email. “Pics have been posted on my site. I have a ton more here, but too large to send by email.” He had added a URL and Clark clicked on it. Vickers’ site was all to sell his bespoke metal bondage gear. He checked around it, and under the heading “Yoke” he found a set of pictures in an album entitled “Samuel.” Vickers had photo-shopped a generic looking head onto Clarks shoulders and then blurred it slightly. He had also photo-shopped several backgrounds in. The photos looked amazing, and Clark tried to make copies but the site wouldn’t let him. He snarled in frustration and fired an email off to Vickers about it.

Continue reading Busman’s Holiday – Part 05