Tag Archives: slavebladeboi

Joey – Part 04

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?”

Continue reading Joey – Part 04

Joey – Part 03

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.

Continue reading Joey – Part 03

Joey – Part 02

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.

Continue reading Joey – Part 02

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

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

First Time? – Part 02

By slavebladeboi

I sat looking into my empty coffee cup listening to the gurgle of the machine on the countertop that was making the coffee to go into it. I was feeling very unsure about the present contents of my basement. I told him I’d hold him to the agreement he’d signed, but I could see he was totally out of his depth there. Looking at the screen, where I could see him hanging limply in that spread eagle, he had diminished in size almost, certainly he wasn’t looking like the gym-fit stud that I’d carried in. Dejected and lost would sum it up. If I went through with my threat then he’d live, he’d be in pain for a lot of the time and arrive home sore, but he’d get over it in a few days, physically. Not so sure mentally. Would that experience put him off for life? Would he feel unable to cope and maybe turn his back on what could be the best thing he had in life for the future? Difficult to know, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to test that theory. So I planned something different.

I opened the door and slammed it behind me in one noisy move. He jumped enough to make those taut chains rattle. Walking up to him I stared straight into his face and waved the contract under his nose.

“This! This is your contract. You wrote some of it, you signed it and you swore it was correct. Well? Didn’t you?”

Continue reading First Time? – Part 02

First Time? – Part 01

By slavebladeboi

“I know, I know, we all make mistakes,” I said, putting my hands each side of his face and stroking the skin, or at least the bits that weren’t covered by the leather gag and head harness.

I looked straight into his eyes, now filled with tears of fear, maybe terrified, but it’s all the same really at this stage. He struggled a bit, the chains that held him spread eagled in that oh so delicious and vulnerable vertical position rattled slightly. I increased the tension a tiny bit more.

His intake of breath proved it was enough for the moment and it did stop the chains from moving.

Continue reading First Time? – Part 01

Joey – Part 01

By slavebladeboi

Joey lay still. The cold, hard concrete under him made his shoulders and hips hurt but there was little he could do about it. The chains that held him in a tight spread eagle gave no mercy to his joints. He debated whether to open his eyes or not. Blindfolded, all he saw when they were open was the same black, endless void that confronted him when they were shut. Why bother. It was easier just to, well relax was probably not the first thought he had, but perhaps become less confused, less frightened? Little choice but just wait for the sound of the boot leather on stone as they marched over to where he lay prone.

Time had very little meaning for him. He had tried to think clearly about how he had got where he was right now, but it all became a confused mass of disjointed, chaotic thoughts over which he had no control. Hours, days even. It couldn’t be longer than days could it, to be used and abused by both of them.? He presumed there were two of them as he regularly felt four hands, whether they were the same four hands every time was an unknown. And it felt like he’d been there for ever.

Continue reading Joey – Part 01

A boi’s Afternoon

By slavebladeboi

“So,” he said rather menacingly, looking straight into my eyes as he held my chin in his fist, “think of a number between one and twenty five.”

Shit, another mind fuck no doubt.

“Yes Sir,” I answered. “Six.”

What the fuck is he thinking now?

“Well done, boi. Good answer.”

Why. How’s that good?

“Thank you, Sir.”

“You’re getting 25 with the crop.”

Continue reading A boi’s Afternoon