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Groom gets tied up after his bachelor party

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A nightlong bachelor party can be a lot of fun; especially if you get to see the groom stripped naked and tied up! And that’s what hotel manager Dolan Wolf walks in on the morning after a rowdy night of male bonding. Initially annoyed at the trashed hotel room, Dolan’s attention is quickly taken by the stunning young bachelor, hand-tied to the headboard. Seeing Marco Rubi tied and helpless is too much for Dolan – he’s not going to let an opportunity like this pass him by. So ignoring the weak pleas to be untied, Dolan begins to play with Marco’s dick. He plays with it gently until it’s fully hard and with Marco still tied up, Dolan then takes his dick to the back of his throat before fingering Dolan’s young tight ass. Marco’s ‘I’m straight and I’m getting married’ pretense doesn’t hold up anymore. Dolan lifts Marco’s legs in the air to pound his hole, all the time tied to the bed. Hours later Marco will be getting married but for now, he is ‘Just Fucked’!

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VIDEO at Menatplay.com

Title of this shoot: Just Fucked, Editor’s Cut

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Story

Journal to Hell – Part 02

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By rts

male bondage storiesLooking around my cell (as much as my posture collar permits), I see several chains hanging down from the ceiling, several eyebolts imbedded in the walls, the floor is dirt, and the air is hot and stifling. I am thirsty. The ball gag is getting unbearable. I’ve been here for a while, maybe 2 hours. I can’t move around much with my collar chained to the wall. I have to piss, and my arms cuffed behind my back are beginning to hurt.

I hear some noises outside my cell, rattling chains and heavy boots stomping along, someone shouting “move it fags” and a few heavy doors slamming and then the sounds of a key unlocking my cell. The door opens and a leather-clad and muzzled prisoner is shoved inside followed by 2 skinheads, one holding the chain locked to the leather man’s posture collar, the other holding what looks like a remote control box.

“Halt Fag” the one holding the box commands, and he immediately stops. The skinhead looks over at me. “Take a good look you sorry faggot, this is your immediate future.”

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The WORC Program – Part 18

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By Joshua Ryan

The rest of the winter … What happened? Nothing. Not even another trip to the bedroom. Bottom line: I was still a workie. I was still a house servant. I was owned by the current partner of my former partner. They had their breakfast, lunch, gym, dinner, movies, friends. I cleaned up after them. I also got up on the long ladder and dug out the gutters. I dragged the dead possum out of the storm drain. Cicero paddled me for stealing a cookie that was supposed to go on Jerry’s birthday cake. My only hope was that Mike and Jerry were hazing me, using me, shaming me, until one day they’d decide to let me go. If I could have shamed myself more, I would have, just to get this to end. I would have worn a leash every day. I would have slobbered at their feet. I would have begged them to rape me. But maybe that would just have made them want to keep me. Yeah, and maybe their favorite way of torturing me was to let me think they’d forgot all about me.

OK, eventually they’d get tired of that. Wouldn’t they? And then they’d let me go. I wished I had somebody to help me figure things out. I wished I had somebody to touch and make love to. I wished I was back with Ace. But if I was ever gonna get out of this, I had to stay in the House and live with a bunch of dumb hopeless faggots and bust my ass to keep Mike and Jerry’s toilets clean.

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One, Police Plaza, NYC

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By Bearded Mike

This is a true account of a chance meeting I had a few years back in NYC.

I was on a business trip to New York, and on a morning when I had no commitments I’d been down to Battery Park and was travelling back uptown by bus. It was around lunchtime and the bus was already crowded – people were standing but I was OK and had one of those side-facing seats toward the front of the bus.

I found myself staring at the back-side of a guy who was strap-hanging the same as all the other standing passengers but there was something different about this guy – showing through a back pocket of his jeans I could clearly see the outline of a pair of handcuffs!

My heart was racing, the adrenaline pumping. Was this guy a cop? But he wasn’t in uniform. Was he a collector of cuffs like myself? Or was there some other reason why he was carrying cuffs? I had no way of knowing.

But suddenly I did have a possible way of knowing. Unexpectedly the bus lurched and the standing passengers were jolted to such an extent that “my” guy stepped backward – right onto my foot. He half turned, looked down at me and muttered an apology. I assured him that I was perfectly OK and he went back to his strap-hanging – and I went back to staring at his cuffs. I was fantasising about trying to strike up some sort of conversation with the guy; a perfect opportunity had presented itself when he stepped on my foot, but I’d bottled out and hadn’t had the guts to get into conversation

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Story

Unchained prisoner

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By rts

Is anyone out there able to help me? I am stuck here, all my clothing has been taken and I have been left wearing this tight rubber catsuit which I can’t remove, as the entry zipper which runs from the top of the attached hood down my back and thru my crotch can’t be un-zipped past the posture collar that is locked around my neck nor past the thick rubber corset which is also locked around my waist.

I have been trapped in this suit for two days now and the tight rubber has become very uncomfortable and rank with my sweat (fortunately I can at least un-zip my crotch to relieve myself all though I am wearing a locked steel chastity belt shaped to fit around my waist under the catsuit ) I have been living on bread and water and liquid protein which I can just slowly work into my mouth through the small mouth opening in the hood, the stiff posture collar and tight heavy corset make my movements painful and breathing labored.

The attached gloves and rubber boots squish with the accumulated sweat. there is nothing in this room I can use to cut off this suit and it would be impossible to cut thru the thick collar and corset anyway. “He” warned me not to damage the suit in such an attempt or he would never unlock the chastity belt. Leaving me here in this small room two days ago “He” left thru the unlocked door. (“Where would you go dressed like that and without any money, it’s miles back to your place,” He laughed, “you would probably get the crap beat out of you by the local street punks before you got to the end of the block, and if that happened and your suit got damaged you can forget about ever getting out of that chastity belt, boi.”)

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My Fetish for Speedos and Bondage

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By Speedobound

stud in a speedoMy fetish can be summed in one word: Speedos. But then bondage isn’t far behind. I used to get a hard on simply by driving past sporting goods stores because that’s where you would buy Speedos, when I was growing up. I think an athletic man with a hot physique wearing a tight Speedo is the perfect combination of nature and… well, synthetics, since I like 100% nylon Speedos!

I had my very first orgasm the initial time I ever tried on a Speedo. Luckily it was a friend’s Speedo and I was able to clean up the gooey mess, surreptitiously. I had NO idea what just happened, but I knew it was HAWT. The idea of being tied up was in the back of my mind as well, but it wasn’t until I got my pervy little hands on my own Speedo that I could “practice in,” were the two fetishes able to meet. It’s fascinating what a bit of imagination and a little pretend can come up with when you are a horny teenager and have some rope and a Speedo.

I have long since graduated to more advanced levels of exploring kink. Many years ago I finally got brave enough to let a stranger tie me up, while wearing a Speedo of course. If you read my profile you will see that I will not be tied up without my Speedos, it would immediately kill my erotic drive. However, when I am wearing a Speedo, my tolerance for… well for a LOT of things is amplified. I have visited my share of leather clubs, dungeons, and even small apartments with some makeshift bondage equipment, or simply rope. I have gotten a lot more adventurous as the years have passed, although I have always played safe and have never been truly harmed.

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Weekend With Jonas – Part 2

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By ty dehner

I woke as someone was working something around my body. Shortly I was being hoisted out of the pool and the weights around my body were heavier now as I was no longer in the water. The guys had used an engine hoist to pull me out and bring me down setting me on a body board that is used by EMTs. They released the belts from the hoist and then started strapping me to the body board. I wasn’t going to be getting out the scuba gear and I think I was going to be going for a ride.

I didn’t hear from anyone, but the board was lifted, and I could feel it moving and no doubt taking a route through my house and into the garage. It was hard to hear but I think I heard the sound of metal and soon I felt myself moving. My movement stopped and I think I heard some latches being secured. Then I know I heard a metal door slam shut. I tried to move but I couldn’t move much. My fingers were able to move, and I was certain I felt a wall very close to my side. The weights pressed me on the board and restricted my movement. I was sure that I was in a box of some sort.

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Story

The Bet – Chapter 07

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By lthr_jock

I walk into the murky bar at Backstreet and take a look around. I can see a few regulars and a couple of nervous newcomers. One of them looks at me and immediately drops his gaze. I can’t say I blame him, as I know what I look like. From the toes of my gleaming Dehners to the tight collared shirt clapsed at my neck by a blue leather tie, I am covered in thick heavy leather.

My trousers are stitched and padded down the sides and tailored to accentuate the size of my cock. My leather uniform shirt and tie are mostly obscured by the thick padded leather jacket that has been belted tightly shut to show my narrow waist and the bulk of my chest. The gloom of the room is deepened by the reflective sunglasses I’m wearing and on top of my neatly cropped hair is my leather Muir cap. I raise my gloved hands to remove my sunglasses and tuck them in the top pocket of my jacket, before heading for the bar for a beer.

A bottle in hand, I head into the darkened area at the back. There are sounds of men having sex all around me, forming a soft counterpoint to the loud music. I find a place to stand, leaning against a wall, displaying the length of my body and look around for someone of interest. I spot one almost immediately.

Continue reading The Bet – Chapter 07 →