Tag Archives: KinkMen

Story

The Edge – Chapter 11

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By Steellock

Matt the Ex-Marine?

Matt awoke. He always woke fast, no slow realisation of where he was just light like a light bulb. It was today. He realised he was hard, very hard under the blanket but he knew that doing something about it was wrong today. He needed all the sexual tension to help get though it. Yesterday he had been setting up the squad. They had been chatting in the bar and he had reminded them all of the flogging they had seen 12 months ago at the “Pride” event. A few guys were new and had not seen it so Matt had encouraged the others to talk it through and give them the story. How they had gone into the club under the Leatherstore to find a bar and lots of cellars with guys playing.

Then at the end the crowd gathered looking at the muscle hunk suspended from the ceiling, his hood hiding his identify. Then they talked about the manager’s challenge to the audience at the club; who would agree to take the same punishment as the House Boi suspended in front of them? Of course no one had! Not a surprise when they had seen the flogging and whipping that had then followed – for a good hour covering the guy’s back, chest, butt and thighs. His tough body had been covered in welts and bruises but he had done little more than growl and swear in a low deep voice.

As he expected the group decided to go and watch again this time as the Newbies were sceptical that it had been that good.

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Story

Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 12

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By Greg Alexander

My situation did not improve over the course of the next several days.

By the end of my first day tied down over the spanking bench, no fewer than 23 alpha males on testosterone overdrive had, in the course of that single afternoon and evening, made me worship their feet and suck their dicks, and then, in punishment for my consistent inability to identify even one of them with the blindfold on, much less recite their sports facts, aggressively spanked and then fucked me.

The spanking, in particular, was excruciating. Nothing, nothing, could quite compare to having 23 muscular athletes in rapid succession deliver a stream of unrelenting punishments to my behind. By the end of the day, my ass felt like it had been seared by a blisteringly hot iron, and it felt like a train had careened through my asshole. My legs were frozen in an wide open spread eagle, my ass was as defenseless as ever, and my inner sphincter and prostrate were throbbing relentlessly from the repeated violent large-scale invasions to which they had been subjected over the course of the past 6 hours. My legs quivered uncontrollably, even though I was unable to move them at all.

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Story

The Examination – Part 5

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By Slavebladeboi

The gates closed behind me as I drove onto the road. What the fuck had I just done? The obvious answer was spinning round inside my head, I’d just about broken every protocol of my job. I’d ignored the rules about admissions, invoices, data, official forms, getting personal with clients and especially getting personal with subjects. But who couldn’t get personal with this subject? I looked into the rear view mirror and saw those two luscious brown eyes looking back at me. Yeah, I know. I’m a sucker for eyes, delicious young boy eyes with long dark lashes that I just want to put my tongue round and kiss.

Of course, what I should have done is arrange for the official van to collect him like any other admission. Then two thugs would arrive in their solid, heavy, high black leather boots, full leather gear and MX style biker crash helmets with dark goggles and face protectors, night sticks in their belts and obvious muscles under it all. They would pull out the stretcher, it was really a simple steel grid the size and shape of a stretcher only more convenient for fixing someone to and more hygienic.

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Story

Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 01

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By Greg Alexander

I could hardly contain my excitement when I walked into my freshman dorm room and saw Trevor standing there.

Sure, I had known I was going to be rooming with a big jock, a much discussed new recruit for both the university crew team and tennis teams, and I’d heard he was already planning on pledging Delta Psi, the most hardcore frat on campus.  But I hadn’t realized how stunningly hot he’d be.

When I walked in, he was just wearing work-out shorts, a tight undershirt, and a big pair of white sneakers with no socks, so that his ankle bones were clearly visible.  I almost sprang a boner there on the spot.  He was incredibly tall, with a lean and muscular frame, and broad shoulders.  He had jet black hair, curly yet cropped very short and close to his head, which made him look even more masculine.  His face was boyish, cleanly shaved and with delicate features, but you could tell from his fiery blue eyes the boy meant business.  I knew right away I didn’t want to cross Trevor.

I tried to make conversation with him when I walked in — he was unpacking his socks and underwear and athletic gear from a large, old fashioned trunk in which he seemed to have packed most of his clothing.  As he removed his undershirts and underwear by the bundles, he spread them out onto a padded reclining chair and a large coffee table he had already moved into the room.  He was distant, and his mind was definitely otherwise engaged.

“Whatya up to?”  I asked.

“Nothin.  I’m late for practice,” he grunted.  On his way out of the dorm room, he kicked off his shoes for a second to pull on a pair of thick white tennis socks.  For that one brief second, I caught a glimpse of his bare feet, and my jaw almost dropped.  They were big feet, beautifully tanned, nice and moist too.  I got the idea that Trevor always liked to keep his feet shielded — not a big fan of walking around the dorm room barefoot, judging by his unmarked soles.  Maybe he wanted to make sure they didn’t get spoiled for his tennis games, I thought to myself.

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Story

The Journey to Hull – Part 5

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By Wakeysub

The room around me was pitch black apart from a single small red light which pulsed slowly and steadily. My brain was overloaded with sensations but I soon realised that the light pulse matched the slow, rhythmic pulsing of the electrode attached to my cock – the light must be on the electro control box. I focussed on the light hoping that it would take my mind off my tortured nipples and the aching pain in my stretched balls. How long had I been here, more to the point where the fuck was I and what had I let myself in for.

Suddenly I was aware that the light was flashing more quickly. At the same time, I became aware that the pulsing in my cock was increasing in speed and the power level seemed to be increasing too. It wasn’t a massive increase just a constant build and I was conscious that what was before nothing more than a gentle pulse was turning into a more determined throbbing sensation. The only things I could focus on were the small red flashing light and the throbbing sensation enveloping my cock. I felt myself involuntarily trying to push my cock to fuck the chastity cage and increase the intensity of the electrical sensation. This made my ass grip the electrode more tightly which had the desired effect of increasing the intensity.

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Story

The Journey to Hull – Part 3

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By Wakeysub

Session 2

The timer in front of me came back to life but this time showed “60:00” – what the fuck. I had struggled with 30 minutes and now I was faced with 60 minutes of God knows what. I heard the click and the timer started to count down. My second session had begun. The nipple clamps were still viciously biting into my tortured nipples but the massive rubber cock in my mouth was jabbing into my throat and making me gag repeatedly. This made me thrash around as much as the tight restraints would allow. This just drove the nipple clamps to bite harder and harder.

He leant forward and brushed the nipple clamps lightly. At his touch the pain shot deep into my chest.

“Your tits seem to be enjoying it, you fat slut. Don’t want them to get bored – lets replace the clamps with something you’re really going to love. I bought these especially for you when you told me you had sensitive nips. You’re going to love these clamps they looked so fucking hot in the adverts. First, let’s remove these pathetic toy clamps and get you ready for your new best friends.”

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Story

Cards

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By Bikermike

The “game,” if it could be called as such, was very straightforward. It consisted of an ordinary pack of playing cards; fifty-two in total, if you do not count the jokers. The pack is shuffled and four cards are dealt from the top of the pack and the face value of this fourth card is noted. Another four are dealt and again the face value of this card is added to the previous value. All the cards are dealt in groups of four and the values of each fourth card added to the rest. There are fifty-two cards, therefore the whole pack requires thirteen groups of four cards. The value of the ace is of course one, the jack eleven, queen twelve and the king has the value of thirteen.

A mathematician would be able to calculate the odds of each sum total of the thirteen cards, but I am no mathematician so I estimate the average total would be in the order of

52 x 6.5 divided by 4 = 84.5

These were the rules explained to me by someone whose profile I was fascinated by on Recon. He went on to say that we would meet at his place, not too far away; either he or I would shuffle and deal the cards (it wouldn’t matter who) and note the final value, then the pack would be shuffled again and we would then pick a card each. The one picking the higher face value would then be given as many strokes of the belt as the total score of the thirteen sets of four cards.

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