Tag Archives: slavebladeboi

Story

Another Weekend – Part 1

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By slavebladeboi

I turned off the ignition and walked the bike backwards down his driveway. I was already hot inside the leathers, the lining of which was beginning to stick to my skin. Kicking the sidestand into position, I swung my leg over and stood. The front door was closed, but he always left it unlocked when I was due to make an appearance. I undid the helmet strap and pulled my new Shoei up and off, this one was white with blue and yellow lightning flashes, making sure not to drop it like I did once before with an older one. So much for not being nervous.

Gloves off, keys in pocket, best foot forward.

Once inside the hallway I stripped off. Not as easy as you may think. I like my leathers good and tight, which adds to the “cling factor” when I’m naked and sweaty beneath them. After taking off my boots and having a one-man wrestling match with my one piece I folded the leathers as much as I could and placed my helmet and gloves on top. Deep breath and on into the next room.

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Story

The Club

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By slavebladeboi

I could feel the weight of the door as I pushed it open, far heavier than it looked. It slowly swung silently behind me and, turning, I could see the reason why. Thick padded soundproofing covered this side, black and shiny.

It took several seconds for my sight to register anything in the low-level lighting of the room, anything that is, apart from the beam of bright light shining vertically onto the naked figure in the centre.

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Story

Joey – Part 06

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By slavebladeboi

Joey skidded to a halt and leapt off his bike, leaving it resting against the fence with his safety chain over the cross bar and hoping Jack, who was close behind, would use it for both their bikes. Taking the steps two at a time, he punched the code into the lock and shoved his weight against the door, leaving it ajar for the figure already within sight. Jack had only taken 30 seconds to get his backpack closed and over his shoulders, and he was gaining rapidly.

Unlocking his apartment door, Joey immediately sent a text to Chris telling him he was in, safe and going to bed. He was in no mood for any interruptions to spoil the next few hours. He tossed his phone onto the chest of drawers and stood, panting, facing the door, his body glistening from that 15-minute race, the damp lycra suit clinging closely to his firm, muscled body.

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Story

Joey – Part 05

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By slavebladeboi

They walked awkwardly along the path that ended at the road. Joey, his hoodie pulled down to hide the blindfold, pushing his bike with his right hand whilst Jack held and guided him, pushing the other bike with his spare hand. At the junction Jack leaned the bikes against the fence.

“Listen to me. We don’t have much time. I’m telling you, not asking you. Trust me.” Jack said this as a command. “You won’t come to any harm, you’ll be back here in about 30 minutes, just do as you’re told. Don’t panic and think about your answers. I swear, you’re safe. Now. Stand still.”

He reached into his backpack and, grabbing Joey’s wrists, swiftly cuffed them behind his back. Jack stepped back, looked at the figure in front of him, leaned in and gave him a long hard kiss.

“And that’s a promise.”

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Story

Joey – Part 04

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By slavebladeboi

Drink it? Throw it? Do what it said? The bottle sat on the top of Joey’s desk where he had put it half an hour earlier. His gut crawled, but whether it was with fear or excitement he was too wound up to figure. The “do what it said” was the small message written on the base of the bottle-

Here 6pm tomorrow.

So what? Bring it with him, drink it now or what? He couldn’t think straight.

It didn’t help when Chris barged in through the unlatched door. “Hey dude, did you manage to … anything wrong J?” Chris saw Joey sitting staring at a clear plastic drinking bottle perched on his desk like it was some kind of religious idol. He gave a sort of embarrassed laugh. “Joey. Hey, what’s the matter?”

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Story

Joey – Part 03

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To start at Part 1, click here

By slavebladeboi

The ride back to his student accommodation didn’t really register on Joey’s mind. He pedalled the anger out of his body, with each thrust of his legs he felt calmer, or at least less fraught. Fumbling with the padlock and chain he secured the frame to the rack and buzzed himself in. He had no thoughts in his head that made sense to him and simply flung himself face down onto the bed, still drawing deep breaths from the exertion.

After a while he relaxed and let his mind become focussed on that bench, the cyclist and his recent experiences, but it was always coming back to the cyclist. There was something. He wasn’t sure if it was something he was missing from the picture he had in his head or just a feeling that he felt ok with the meeting. No. He had been used and the other guy knew about it. And he seemed happy to acknowledge it. And that made him feel, well, perhaps less angry now if he allowed himself to admit it.

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Story

Joey – Part 02

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For Part 1 click here

By slavebladeboi

Following a mainly sleepless night, and twenty four hours after waking on that bench, it happened that Joey returned to the park, this time on his bike, which he usually used to get him to his part time work, to help with his expenses, as well as for the exercise that helped keep him in shape. There was very little breeze to slow or cool him and he felt the urge to push himself to mitigate the inner feelings he still had. Dappled shade rapidly alternated with brilliant sun, cooling and heating his back in succession as he cycled around the track, always within view of that bench, but never getting close to it.

The bench attracted him with a force he couldn’t explain but at the same time it repelled him, the two opposing forces made him feel disturbed, almost giddy. Since his experience, waking up, remembering his tortures, finding his cock locked without knowing who or when, he was both frustrated and nervous. In truth he was angry, frustrated, frightened and anxious all at the same time. He didn’t know which way to turn mentally. He’d been used. The turmoil that this caused him was fighting the feeling somewhere, deep inside, that it was sexy, hot and just about everything that he’d dreamed about most of the time he was jerking off.

Jerking off, yeah, the thing he could no longer do, and that made him angry.

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Story

Captain Jack and the Race to Redula – Chapter 01: Pyrellia’s Wing

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By POW

Author’s note: I’m grateful to Metal for providing the inspiration for this story. It is set in a thinly disguised, probably recognizable fictional universe (hint: it rhymes with “car check”), so if you’d rather call the simspace a “holodeck”, you have my blessing. It’s a long story (11 chapters) and it starts slowly; please be patient!

 

Unical date: 3752.563.21

[Framing shot: a space station in orbit above a yellow-orange gas giant planet. Cut to interior of station.]

“I know this isn’t the best of circumstances,” Commander Shizaki said, “but there really is no other choice.  We must make do with what we have.”

Lieutenant Sam Green tried to keep his face impassive, allowing only concern to show, a slight creasing of the skin between his eyes.  “I understand.  Bareem needs to return home, of course.  But… are you certain there’s no one else who could make the trip with me?”  Don’t show even a trace of enthusiasm, not a hint.

The commander shook his head with regret.  “No one, I’m afraid.  This station’s normal complement is eleven staff, and we’re down two as it is so we were already stretched thin even before this emergency.  The need to get Lieutenant Farquhar home for his father’s funeral pushes us to the absolute limit.  I’ll be sending Lieutenant Urkenzie out in our one available interstellar-capable ship to take him back to Kerangia and then return.  That’s a fourteen-day round trip, and during that time we’ll have to shut down parts of our operations.  That will result in angry communications from research teams all over this sector, each one of them in high dudgeon over the absence of data they were expecting us to provide.  I anticipate at least one court case to be filed over the fact that our staffing shortage meant missing out on the once-in-ten-thousand-years opportunity to, I don’t know, capture the spectral signature of a snout-nosed pulsar or something equally absurd.  The case will of course be dismissed as frivolous but it will still be a tedious bureaucratic hassle.”

He put his hands flat on his desk.  “But that is my problem to deal with.  Yours, of course, is to get those tribronium plates to Kappa Redulans.  Those people are in dire need, and compared with that, the conniption fits of inconvenienced researchers don’t even register.”

“Of course, of course,” Sam agreed.  “Main power system destroyed, backup teetering on the brink of collapse, which means no air recycling and no climate control after it fails.  And so far away!”

Continue reading Captain Jack and the Race to Redula – Chapter 01: Pyrellia’s Wing →