The writer is as usual in Wesco boots, in its permanent chastity belt, nipple clamps, and locked leather/steel posture collar which is mandated for it when it writes. It helps this slave to focus on its writing.
Master John looked around the bar and wondered if there was any reason to stay as it appeared that there was a lack of talent in the bar that night. He shifted on his stool which caused his heavy langlitz leathers to creak as they were stretched over his heavily muscled furry body. He nodded at the bartender and stood up. He turned and left the bar frustrated as it means another night frustrated.
After he returned home and stripped off his heavy leathers leaving his leather jock on as he always wore it, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed for the living room. He picked up his laptop and logged into his email. He scanned through it and saw that he had a message alert from his BLUF account and he logged into the site. He smiled as the message was from a buddy in Berlin. He opened it and scanned it and quickly replied. It was a confirmation of the two of meeting up for Easter in Berlin. At least, John felt that he would find action there.
Continue reading The Fall of a Master – Part 01
Behold, brand-new artwork (April 2023) by the artist Brick!
It is shared here with the artist’s permission:
Thanks, Brick, for this new work!
I am walking down the pavement following my partner. We are headed to the park for our daily exercise in these freaky times of Covid Lockdown.
What you see is the Skinhead that I have been for a good 10 years.
My buzz cut hair, wide shoulders in a bleached Levi jacket over black Lonsdale polo shirt, my 32 inch waist supporting bleached Levi 501s held up by a wide, thick black belt and finished with a short turnup about half way down my calves so you can see the tight, white laced, black Grinders boots. The regulations on Covid protection mean that I am wearing a neck sleeve scarf pulled up over my nose. It covers my neck and face with a camouflage design.
Continue reading Seen and Unseen – Part 1
The light comes on, the cell door swings open, another day of hell begins after another miserable night in sweaty leathers with butt plug torment. A single skinhead steps in and says, “Fag prisoner #5, get your butt over the squat toilet and present your ass.” Jake crawls on hands and knees, chains rattling, over the dirt floor and waits by the pit. The skinhead unlocks and removes jakes’s muzzle and the crotch strap from the harness, unzips his butt access and proceeds with the enema.
Looking over at me says, “I haven’t forgotten you, fag, enjoy this.” He then presses a control on the remote box he carries, and my butt plug starts vibrating with a new intensity as my cock tries to respond in the painful constriction of my seed pod.
“Listen up both you faggots, my two mates and I have a plan to get you poor sorry leather fags out of this hell hole and us with you and stick it to that fucker overseer skin and some cowboys. We can get you your bikes, gas and all your personal IDs. Me and my two mates have also been trapped here for months with the same future you all have.
Continue reading Journal to Hell – Part 05
Vicious skinhead Master Leo whips the fuck out of his sub, then shoves his hairy arsehole into his fag face and makes him gag on his big angry dick.
Click for Brutal Tops
I am wearing my 20-hole steel toe Rangers with tight black thick leather pants tucked in. The leathers have a removable codpiece, and centered over my butt is a round opening directly placed to give access to my butthole. My upper body is clothed in a tight leather shirt over which I am zipped into a heavy black collarless motorcycle jacket. My hands are gloved in leather gauntlets. I am standing in a very warm underground concrete cell waiting in silence and dressed as I was told to be.
Over my head there is a chain hanging from a pulley. The end of this chain is attached to a hand crank mounted on one wall. The cell is about 12 X 12 feet, windowless with only a steel door for access. I am excited standing here uncertain of what’s to come. I have only met this leather wearing skin online, I wanting to experience an inescapable bondage weekend in full gear, and he wanting to put a booted guy in some uncomfortable restraints getting off on watching the struggle. After discussing the gear I would be wearing, agreeing to be under his total control for the weekend, and he to respect my limits I prepped myself by fasting 24 hrs before our meet and gave myself a good cleanout. Following his instructions I found his place late Saturday morning and let myself in the back door then down the stairs to this underground cell. We had only met online and talked on the phone about our interests and we hit it off.
Continue reading Thirty Hours