Tag Archives: mind fuck

Training the Sergeant – Part 4

By lthr_jock

The Captain looked down at the man slurping beer out of the dog bowl and took a long drag on his cigar. As the end glowed red, he looked at the ash growing on it and taped it, letting it float down over Davis’ head and into the beer he was drinking up. Davis was trying his best to lap at the beer but as it went down it got more difficult. The Captain saw he was having problems, so he lifted up his right foot and pushed it down on the back on Davis’ head, forcing it into the bowl. Davis licked and sucked faster, choking as the beer went up his nose, but after a few minutes he managed to drain the bowl, leaving only a small amount of beer in the bottom.

The Captain looked down. “Lick it clean.” To his surprise and pleasure, the man did so. He leant over to Dejan. “So, tell me his story.” Quickly, Dejan explained and showed the Captain the cocktail of drugs that Davis had been taking. “Interesting. May I suggest adding these?” He gave Dejan the name of three other drugs – two to increase muscle growth, the third to increase suggestibility even more.

Continue reading Training the Sergeant – Part 4

The Wall – Part 03

By Slavebladeboi

So who was he then?

Who?

For fuck’s sake, you know who. The “who” you were waving goodbye to out there. The “who” in the red sports car. The red sports car I told you about. The same red sports car …..

What?

I’ve had this. Were you in on it all the time?

He looked at his partner, he felt hot, sick and tearful. His partner sat.

You like bondage?

You bloody know I do.

You like being fucked?

Where’re you going with all this?

Just answer me.

OK! Yes I frigging do.

And you enjoyed your dream?

I wasn’t a dream, we both know it and now I know you’ve been…

OK Yes. I did it for you.

Wha…

Continue reading The Wall – Part 03

Busman’s Holiday – Part 08

By lthr_jock

Clark stared straight ahead at the clock – not that he had much choice. The collar of the helmet was rigidly locked in place, and the helmet was so tight around his head that he couldn’t move inside it. Vickers had left the room in darkness except for the spotlight on the box and a smaller one illuminating a clock face opposite Clark. Apart from closing his eyes, Clark had no choice but to watch the clock slowly counting down the minutes.

The hands of the clock seemed to move like someone wading through tar. By the time Clark had been in there for 15 minutes, it felt like far longer. Already he knew he was in trouble. With his arms locked behind him, his muscles were cramping painfully. His heavy biceps and shoulders worked against him and made the bondage more secure. He tried to move, but he could do little but twitch inside the box. The chains restraining his chest and waist were heavy and solid, and he couldn’t move them an inch. His legs were locked securely in place, and their positioning meant that his back and arse were forced further into the rubber of the chair. He couldn’t even wiggle his arse, as the rubber tube that had been pushed up inside him was also solidly in place.

Continue reading Busman’s Holiday – Part 08

Chastity Suit – Part 09

By Rubbag

“You’ve stopped talking, Jed.”

I find myself staring at the microphone on the desk in front of me. Beside it an old reel-to-reel tape recorder spins slowly. They both belong in a museum, they’ve got to be fifty years old.

“More like sixty years, Jed.”

The man who’s spoken is sitting across the desk from me.

“Do you know who I am, Jed?”

I look at him carefully. He is not yet old but somewhere more than mature. His hair is silver white, kept trim like his beard. His face is lean and handsome, and his eyes look through me. I feel that I should know him. I should know his face, that I’ve his heard voice before, but then like a mist it fades. I just shake my head.

“That’s ok, Jed, when you’re ready you’ll remember.”

I find myself smiling at him as he speaks.

“Tell, Jed, do you know where you are?”

Continue reading Chastity Suit – Part 09