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
When Jim arrived at Inferno, he used his key to let himself in and headed straight to the bar area. As part of his strategy of getting into Steve’s inner circle, Jim had let himself be convinced to work behind the bar a couple of nights a week. So far he hadn’t found out anything, but there was still time. As he arrived he nodded to the other two bar staff, who were dressed like himself and both also heavily muscled, making their Fred Perry shirts strain over their barrel chests. As he started to sort his section of the bar out, he chatted with the two others.
As they passed to and fro behind his position, their bodies rubbed against him and he could feel his cock swelling down the leg of his bleachers and he grinned. One guy stood behind Jim and pressed up close so he could feel the man’s bulge press hard against the arse-zip in Jim’s bleachers. Instead of moving away, he chuckled and pushed back. The man laughed and went back to his own section of the bar. Jim turned to call to him and realised he didn’t know the guys name – actually he didn’t know the name of any of the staff here. That was weird. Brow furrowed, he tried to remember. Try as he might he couldn’t think of a single name. Meditatively he took a long gulp of his orange juice and almost immediately realised that it didn’t matter and went back to his work.
Continue reading Undercover – Chapter 7
Two of us tied him up. My buddy and I noticed that the meaner and rougher we got with him, the harder his cock got. He was a hot little number, and we made him our prisoner for an afternoon. We blindfolded and gagged him and roped him to the wall. Then later we hogtied his ass on the floor.
Yeah, this is a set of pictures from the Metalbond vault. There is a loft bed and cage in that room now.