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Tier Four – Part 3

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By BoundLongAndHard

BoundLongAndHard speedosSeth did as he was told. He liked doing what he was told, even though his cock didn’t seem to need any help getting or staying hard. The ED cocktail was chalky with a faint taste of cherry. Seth wondered how long it would take before he felt anything. He didn’t have to wait long. Before the 3 minutes were up, he felt as though his cock was being forced to get even harder. He had never felt anything like this. He had lost all control over his cock. He liked having no control. He proceeded to B-3 and had to walk outside in the hall from B-2 to get there. His clothes had already been put in locker. Creighton told him he wouldn’t seem them again until the assignment was over. Thus, he had to walk through the hall from B-2 to B-3 nude and extra hard. Seth actually looked forward to this.

He entered the now familiar pressurized room and closed the pressure-sealed door. As soon as the seal engaged, audio instructions began. The disembodied voice told him to put the helmet on and be sure it fit snuggly and properly. Seth complied. He knew the drill. It announced that depressurization had already begun and would be concluded in 6 minutes. Same old, same old. It then announced he should move into the laser chamber. He would be asked to assume two positions, including the same position he had just shown Creighton and do so on the circular platform that had not been in the chamber during his prior visit. Also he wondered how the announcement – which must have been prerecorded – could have accounted for the pose he had assumed just 10 minutes ago. Nevertheless, he of course complied.

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Bro to Ho – Part 2

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By Cutieboy90

Cutieboy90 gay bondage storiesI am not a sadist, a fact that might surprise many considering the extreme methods I employed and allowed with Shawn. For the past month, he’d been locked in an indestructible titanium chastity cage, and was adjusting an entirely new life in the frat house. He’d wake up at 4:30 on the dot, shower, groom, workout and stretch, and offer morning blowjobs. The inconsistent sleep he got was on the floor, or in a metal dog crate in the basement. Normally, he wasn’t allowed to speak or move without permission or specific orders. The frat house was brutally strict in that regard, and the only things that took precedence were Shawn’s classes and treatment-related appointments and therapy. Which meant that a great majority of the time, he was available for bitch duties.

While I do believe it was necessary to maintain his normal routines, I did not need to keep up the hellish conditions and protocols of the frat house. I enjoyed letting Shawn have a bit a of a break to recharge and recover. He slept in the bed with me, and he was allowed to speak and move as he wished. I kept him naked, collared, and shackled, but otherwise he was free. He’d wake up at 5:30 on the dot, shower, groom, workout and stretch, and offer a morning blowjob. I had him practice with dildos and butt plugs to keep himself limber for when the break ended. He was very polite, respectful, and quiet. I could tell he appreciated the affection he got from me. The week went by quickly. As the last day dawned, he showed a bit of a mood change.

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The Convict – Part 14

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By Joshua Ryan

“OK,” the officer said, when he got me out in the hallway again. “Your looks are improving, convict. I like that new ankle bracelet. I think you look real cute in it. And you’re gonna look even cuter after your next stop. I’m tired of watchin that little dick of yours floppin around on the outside. But I guess you faggots don’t mind hangin out — do you, boy?”

“Boss! No Boss!”

“Well, if I didn’t have no more than what you got, I’d never wanta bounce that thing. I’d keep it packed away. Look at it.”

He put his hand out and grabbed my dick, like you grab a piece of junk that you plan to throw away. He yanked on it, and I lurched in his direction. “You call that a dick, boy?” He opened his hand. My dick was lying there, open to inspection.   He was right. It looked like nothing compared to his thick hard hand, or the long gray sleeve, full of muscle, that connected the hand to his big, buffed shoulders.

I could smell the Krew Comb on his haircut. I could smell the cigar he’d been smoking. A voice inside me yelled, “Fuck, man! There’s a hillbilly grabbin your dick! There’s a fuckin prison guard grabbin your fuckin dick!” But that voice was a long way away. My dick was starting to grow. It was filling and hardening, and he was starting to stroke it and crank it, like I was his cow and it was time to milk me. The more he stroked, the more it hardened and swelled and thrust in his fingers. I didn’t want that to happen. But there was nothing I could do. It was his tool now. I wasn’t in control of it anymore. Maybe I never had been. My dick didn’t care whose hand it was in; it might as well have been my own hand milking it — except that this hand was attached to a man, not to a “boy” like me. It was sliding in his hand like a piece of well-oiled machinery, like a piston that’s found the right groove . . It was true, then . . . he was the man, and I was the boy . . . he was the guard, and I was the convict . . . My dick was throbbing and jerking, struggling for release . . . Just when it was about to lunge free. . . .

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The Stag Night

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By NWsubguy

The stag week had been going better than expected. Ben, the guy a week from marriage, had been having a great time enjoying the last few days of freedom in Amsterdam. Even I had managed to put an ill-advised night between myself and his fiancée out of my mind, at least enough not to give away what had happened to Ben.

All in all there were 5 of us and the week had been spent mainly drinking and exploring the seedier areas but on the last night the best man Mark had suggested visiting a fetish club that he thought would give Ben a suitable send off into married life. I’d had one or two sessions of being loosely tied up but had never really got into it and considered myself fairly vanilla so I had no real idea what to expect from the night but was willing to give it my all in an effort to keep Ben happy.

From the outside the club seemed like any other. There were a couple of bouncers at the front of a pretty large queue made of people in both normal night out clothes and some others in more extreme, and often revealing, outfits. I started to head to the back of the queue but Mark stopped me and said that he’d called ahead and got our names on the list so we could go straight in which, considering the cold weather, seemed like a definite blessing. We all gave all our names to the bouncer and they just nodded as each of us went in but as I went past one patted me on the shoulder and said “hope you enjoy your time here” to which I just replied “thanks” and hurried to get in. Looking behind me on the way down the corridor I saw the 2 bouncers laughing to each other over something.

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