Tag Archives: POW

Nate – Part 01

By slavebladeboi

With thanks to POW for his editing skills and the many suggestions that inspired this story.

Nate made sure the door of his bedroom was locked before he stood naked, facing the window. There was no one else home, but it made him feel safe both mentally and physically. The windowsill was level with his hips, and the slats of the blind were at an angle that allowed him to see out without being seen. It was a position he’d taken up several times when he noticed that the new neighbour was out and about, either tending to the front garden of his house, directly opposite the house Nate shared with two other college guys, or washing his car or all the other small jobs that needed taking care of when the weather was warm and the sun out.

This time the neighbour, a guy who was obviously in his thirties and looked to be in perfect shape to 20-year-old Nate, well-built and wearing only some skimpy shorts, was washing his car on the drive. It was a 1970 Corvette Stingray, deep blue and perfect. Any reasonable young male, in fact any man of any age, would have made some excuse to stop by and compliment the guy on his choice of vehicle, but Nate wasn’t so forthright. He preferred to stay hidden and watch from a distance. Another reason for his reluctance to make an appearance was that locked around his right wrist was one half of a handcuff, the other half locked tightly round his cock and balls, thus leaving his left hand free to play with his nips as he wanked furiously, gazing at the bronzed body sweating in the heat of the afternoon sun, wiping the odd spray of soap suds and water off his body.

Continue reading Nate – Part 01



The story so far…

Elias is a male dom looking for a reluctant sub. Owen is a reluctant sub because he’s a straight sub.

NOTE: This is part of a much longer story called “Dr. “NOOOO!!!” — and this chapter has been slightly altered to suit the Metalbond site. For the full story, click here, but be forewarned that the complete story, especially the end, features a female dom. If you’re interested in primarily male-on-male action, try the chapter below, as well as chapters 3 and 8 on POW’s site.


Dr. “NOOOO!!!” chapter 7 – Crag


Crag isn’t quite a bar and isn’t quite a club. It’s more of a co-op based in what used to be a manufacturing plant for railcar parts in the old industrial area of town. The members pool their resources to have a shared space for play and equipment and they host public events like tonight’s once a month. I’m not a member, so I pay the high guest rate when I visit, which is not all that often. I tend to hang out at the bars farther north in Edgewater when I’m looking for leather companionship, but I’ve visited Crag a time or two before. Great atmosphere – huge high ceilings, big rooms to play in with echoey concrete walls in a lot of them. A good dungeon vibe. And unlike the Edgewater bars, the focus here was not on drinks or conversation, but on getting physical. The money the co-op brought in was not to make a profit for a business but instead got reinvested into either the space or the gear.

I was dressed in my best: black leather from hat to boots, tight in all the places I wanted to show off like waist, biceps, and thighs. Short-sleeved lambskin shirt under a zip-front vest (unzipped) with a jacket over top, also open at the front now that we were inside out of the chill. Hunter boots down below and a biker cap on my head and I was looking every inch the alpha top.

Continue reading Crag

Male BDSM fiction: Locktober 2019

The author POW has a fantastic story about how two guys celebrated Locktober a few years back. Click to read:

Locktober 2019


POW recently migrated his story site to a new host. His main page is here. Be forewarned, though, that many of his stories feature extreme themes so proceed at your own risk!

He’s also featured with several stories right here in the Metalbond Prison Library

Captain Jack: The Keck Outtake

Those who enjoyed the recent story “Captain Jack and the Race to Redula” in the Prison Library (if you missed it, click here) will be interested to know that the writer, POW Author, has written a spinoff story, which he has posted to his own website:

Click for Keck, the Tarachsian Uncle

See ALL of POW Author’s fiction by clicking here — but be forewarned, much of his other content includes extreme fantasies, so tread carefully!

Captain Jack and the Race to Redula – Chapter 11: Kappa Redulans


Start at Chapter 1 by clicking here

There came a day when the routine changed.  By Sam’s count they were at nineteen strokes per minute when the first hint came wafting through the oarlocks: the smell of gunsmoke.  This was different but not different enough to merit Sam’s attention and so he remained focused on his rowing, pushing and pulling the long wooden handle back and forth.  But then there came voices: loud, shouting voices bellowing words Sam could not make out.  Louder they grew, and then other voices joined in, fainter and  more distant.  Fuck!  The Royal Navy had caught up with them, despite all their efforts to keep ahead!  Sam leaned into the oar even harder but after only a dozen strokes a great blow struck the side of the ship and suddenly there was no weight in Sam’s arms.

He stared dumbfounded at the stump of oar for long seconds before realizing what had happened: something, probably a cannonball, had blasted off the other end, leaving just the splintered wreckage in his hand.  Sam turned to his oarmate – whose name he still did not know after all this time – to see if he had any idea what to do, but the man was slumped over in his seat, leaning against the outer wall which, Sam suddenly noticed, had also taken some of the impact.  Cracks and fissures appeared where there had been none before.

Cracks and fissures in an ocean-going vessel’s hull were not good.  Not good at all.

Continue reading Captain Jack and the Race to Redula – Chapter 11: Kappa Redulans

Captain Jack and the Race to Redula – Chapter 10: Keep Moving


Voices erupted from the gallery.  The shabby small-town lawyer blinked as if blindsided, his face somehow managing to comically express both consternation that he wouldn’t need any of the arguments he had assembled and relief that they wouldn’t get eviscerated by his opponent.  The opponent, meanwhile, simply opened up his briefcase and started packing papers into it, just another day’s work, this one easier than most.  Bystanders in the courtroom gossiped with their neighbors; the deputies smirked knowingly at each other; the bailiff watched the judge for a cue what he should do.

The sheriff was the only one actually looking at Sam and the expression on his face was that of a cat eyeing a trapped mouse.  Sam met his eyes and stared, letting the clamor in the courtroom wash over him until Judge Jack banged his gavel on the bench.  “Order!”  The voices died down and calm settled once again over the courtroom.

“Let the record show that the defendant has pled guilty to all charges.  Sam Green, I hereby sentence you to hard labor, sentence to commence immediately and continue until restitution for your crimes has been made.  Sheriff, you’ll see to the details?  Dismissed!”  The gavel came down again.  Bystanders stood and began filing out; the maître d’ and the various Jack clones in their various outfits left through other doors, and in short order the space was empty save for Sam and Sheriff Jack.

Continue reading Captain Jack and the Race to Redula – Chapter 10: Keep Moving

Captain Jack and the Race to Redula – Chapter 09: Illusions


To start at the beginning of this story, click here.

Sam’s transition to wakefulness was slow and gradual, like darkness giving way to day over the course of the hour before sunrise.  His deep, dreamless sleep didn’t end so much as it faded into wakefulness.  The bed was soft, holding his body in perfect comfort at the perfect temperature and as awareness slowly returned the first thing he became conscious of was the lack of stress on his muscles, the absence of the aches caused by lying on a hard floor or lumpy cot.  It was bliss, this pain-free place he was in, and he remained there for an unmeasured amount of time basking in unmoving comfort.

Alas, the next thing he became aware of was his profound hunger.  The sensation came on gradually, but once he became aware of it he could not stop noticing it and return to the state of blissful ignorance he had been in before.  Eventually the feeling grew strong enough that he knew he was going to have to do something about it.

Opening his eyes, he found that the quiet bedroom was now aglow with soft diffuse daylight coming in through the sheer gauzy curtains.  He was alone, a fact which registered before he remembered that there had been someone else in the room when he had fallen asleep.  As such, there was no rush of adrenaline when he recalled the threat that his former companion represented.  In the slow, gauzy haze of waking it was all remote, academic, lacking any visceral demand on his attention.  After all, he had been asleep for no telling how long… another two or three or five minutes of comfort on this Platonic ideal of a pillow wouldn’t change things.

Continue reading Captain Jack and the Race to Redula – Chapter 09: Illusions

Captain Jack and the Race to Redula – Chapter 08: All Too Real


Unical date: unchanged

Sam rolled his eyes.  You have got to be kidding me.

Captain Jack’s voice sounded exactly like the voice of the guard he had replaced… which meant he sounded like all the guards.  “Too corny?” he asked.  “Yeah, I agree.  A pirate might don an ensemble like this at a ball, perhaps, if he wanted to catch the eye of some starry-eyed sailor on shore leave, dazzle him, seduce him and abuse him and rob him blind and ditch him the next morning.  But it’s completely impractical for everyday use.  How can a man swing a lash accurately with all this flooshy fabric getting in the way?”

The figure vanished and then rematerialized, this time wearing only the leather under-suit.  It looked very much like the uniform of the interrogators: flat, smooth, practical, studded with pockets and straps and loops for carrying a variety of equipment.  The fancy green boots were now plain black leather.   These were the clothes of a security agent or a soldier or an assassin.  Without the billowing bustles Sam could clearly see the physique underneath, and it was a fine one.  Despite his situation, he couldn’t help but stare.  Solid, well-defined muscles; broad shoulders tapering to a V at the waist; arms and legs sturdy and strong without being overdeveloped.  This guy’s body was so well-suited to Sam’s taste that it seemed to have been custom-designed to his precise specifica… right, of course.  Now that he thought about it, that was probably exactly the case.  If this was the avatar of the AI that controlled the simspace, Sam had spent the last four days feeding it information on what kind of men appealed to him… information that was now being put to use against him.

Continue reading Captain Jack and the Race to Redula – Chapter 08: All Too Real