Tag Archives: long-term bondage

One Year – Part 06

By Taurus

Part 6 – “Barber”

James woke on his 21st morning to a blaring alarm – as per usual – and a pleasant surprise – so far the only truly pleasant thing that has happened to him since he got here.

The cell door opened to reveal two men – Arnold and someone who looked like the sergeant-type guy who read him the rules, except he had a beard that made him seem more friendly.

“Slave, meet Russell. He’s the one who’s gonna deal with your hair every two weeks, though I messed up the scheduling so you’re gonna get a trim next week too, and then it goes back to normal again. He’s also helping me do a few things in my job.

“He’s been here a long time. Knows what he’s doing.”

Seemed. Arnold seemed easy-going but all James has gotten from him are punishments. Since these two were cooperating, there was no reason to conclude at this juncture that Russell would not follow suit.

Instinctively, James opened his mouth to say “thank you sir,” but the punishment the week prior – which mandated silence from him – did its number, and he stopped himself.

Continue reading One Year – Part 06

Journal to Hell – Part 04

By rts

male bondage storiesMy harness is restrictive, stiff and heavy. The tight crotch cradles my butt and affects my walking. The other prisoners all have shaved heads and look to be around my age and physical build. There are three skinheads walking with us, and each has one of those control-box shockers that seems to control two prisoners. A fourth skin (the one from the gas station) is definitely in charge of the others. All four of them are booted in 20-hole Rangers, dirty Levi’s bleaches held up and pulled tight on their butts by braces and showing significant bulges, mostly stained with piss.

The three in control of us all have zippers down their butts and look to be in their late 20s. The fourth skin (the overseer) walks down the line of us and with a black felt tip writes a number on the back of our shaved heads, from 1 to 6 (Jake is No. 5 and I am No. 6). He gives the order to the controlling skins, “Move these fags out.”

Continue reading Journal to Hell – Part 04

Gimp Training, Week 5

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

Gimp Training, Week 1

By Unowned in NYC

I’m driving home from work with a raging hard-on, knowing my gimp is sitting on the closet floor right where I left him this morning.  It’s only been a week since he quit his job, and since that first day,  this Monday, barely a moment has passed where I haven’t been throbbing in my pants, oozing precum.

I wonder if I’ll eventually get used to having a gimp, take it for granted, forgetting about him for hours at a time, no longer ready to bust my nut just picturing him.

Almost there.  It’s been all I could do to not whip out my dick and jerk off in the car, but I’m waiting until I get home so I can get into my full leather and see the gimp as I shoot my load.  Still early spring, so the days are still short.  It’s dusk as I take the last turn on to my street.  My place sits at a dead end.

Continue reading Gimp Training, Week 1

You Wanted This

By Locked22

“You wanted this, slave.”

The voice spoke confidently through a speaker overhead as Derek stared at the collar.

This wasn’t just any collar. “It must weigh ten pounds” he thought, as he lifted the massive metal object off the floor of the cell he found himself in. It was a beautiful piece of ironwork, with an integrated locking mechanism that removed any need for a bulky padlock. A length of heavy chain stretched from an anchor on the wall to the collar – long enough to allow a wearer to sit or stand, but not long enough for the wearer to get close to the door of the cell.

He knew that if he closed it around his neck, there was no going back.

Not that there was much chance of that as it was. He was naked, save for the chastity cage that had been a constant companion over the preceding month, and alone in the small cell. He didn’t know where he was, or even who he was about to put himself in the custody of.

Continue reading You Wanted This

Rubbered Prisoner and the Controlling Master – Part 01

By Rubbered Prisoner

What is the Rubbered Prisoner?

The Rubbered Prisoner is a well-proportioned, muscular, 5-foot-10-inch, 25-year-old white male whose function in life is to earn enough money so he can be housed in an isolated small rural bricked facility where he can be tortured in rubber by the regimen of a distant individual except for 8 hours 30 minutes he is allowed to see through his eyes and type on a computer for a long-term substance living he has.

This is the job he has posting accounts receivables for a remote computerized client. At least 10 hours of the prisoner’s time (not necessarily continuous) must be where sleep is possible but not necessarily anything close to comfortable or continuous.

Continue reading Rubbered Prisoner and the Controlling Master – Part 01

Video: Overnight bondage endurance tests

Research and development continues at Serious Male Bondage. Could you handle a test like this?

 

This is a multi-purpose bondage bed designed for overnight endurance tests. The subject is restrained and then left in the dark for extended periods of time while being monitored via a remote infrared video link. A chastity device is used to keep the subject focused on the test and not on his fantasies.

See more like this at Serious Male Bondage

male bdsm

Breaking Boys: Colin – Chapter 3

By RotherhamMan

Don was left with eighteen hours on the bidding clock after the slave had been left for the six hours he thought long enough to reinforce his new rules. He no longer thought of the meat as Colin, that person was no longer of any significance and he would not be telling the buyers the name either. The only way they would know was if they went and found out for themselves, unlikely, or if the slave broke the rules and told them —something Don would be told about and he had a guarantee that if that ever happened with one of his products he would come out and punish them for tarring his reputation. It hadn’t happened yet.

Six hours had been a long time and despite having sat down to plan the slave’s training he was interrupted by the arrival of a friend who wanted to hang out. He hated people dropping in on him unplanned but he had a social life to maintain as part of his cover as a normal person. He had formed a comfortable social circle of people he found mildly interesting to be around and hung with them enough to appear normal, he might even enjoy himself some times. He felt quite the thrill of entertaining a guest while, unknown to them, he had a person kept in his basement against their will. He had a hard time hiding his rock solid erection and when it was noticed by the friend he played it off as having a day where he just felt horny. The friend laughed with him and departed, assuming Don was going to make a random hook-up to get off. Before he left he used Don’s toilet for a piss, not surprised by the novelty of a waterless toilet, having used it before. He would be surprised to learn it didn’t lead to the sewer but to a tank for the slaves to drink when being punished or trained for such things.

Continue reading Breaking Boys: Colin – Chapter 3