Tag Archives: slavebladeboi

Story

The Examination – Part 1

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By slavebladeboi

I looked through the one way glass as they wheeled him in. He looked about 19, fit, tanned, 5 10 or so, short jet black hair with eyes to die for. Well he wouldn’t actually have to die for them. I’d already been ordered to get everything I wanted out of him, but alive this time.

Oh well.

The three goons that dragged him into my “Initial Examination Room” as I liked to call it, so much nicer than “torture chamber”, were typical types. Heavy, muscled, hairy bears, none of them under 6’3” and wearing the uniform for their jobs in this wing, leather leggings and boots with heavy rubber aprons and bibs. Sometimes they wore fingerless studded gloves too but these were not uniform, just impressive.

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Story

Doug’s Machine

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By slavebladeboi

“C’mon, strip!”

“Aw, not again, Doug.”

“Yeah. You know the plan. I make them, you try them.”

My partner for the last three years was Doug. He was an ‘artist in metal,’ at least that’s what his internet site says. In fact he makes the most amazing and clever metal bondage items to order or off the shelf that anyone can imagine. As his partner, I get to try them out to see if there are any rough edges or something that looks good on paper is simply an arse to get on or into.

“OK, but I was in the middle of your new ad for the site.”

“That’s fine, you’ll get plenty of time before Monday.”

My day job in IT brought in the regular money, while his skill brought in shed loads at times and nothing for the rest of the year.

“C’mon, strip here and get over into the workshop. You’ll be amazed.”

I usually was, it’s true. I heard him welding, sawing and hammering for the past few days, sometimes until midnight or more. Whatever was there now must be a real work of art.

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Story

The Wall – Part 03

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By Slavebladeboi

So who was he then?

Who?

For fuck’s sake, you know who. The “who” you were waving goodbye to out there. The “who” in the red sports car. The red sports car I told you about. The same red sports car …..

What?

I’ve had this. Were you in on it all the time?

He looked at his partner, he felt hot, sick and tearful. His partner sat.

You like bondage?

You bloody know I do.

You like being fucked?

Where’re you going with all this?

Just answer me.

OK! Yes I frigging do.

And you enjoyed your dream?

I wasn’t a dream, we both know it and now I know you’ve been…

OK Yes. I did it for you.

Wha…

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Story

The Wall – Part 02

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By slavebladeboi

They walked back to their apartment together. Like most 19-year-olds he was used to feeling confident. Confident about his sexuality, his life choices and his future, but this evening he felt none of those things. He wanted an arm round his shoulder and a protective embrace from his partner for no other reason but to feel him there. He asked for both and got them with no hesitation albeit a question.

“Is something wrong man?”

“No, it’s just, well…. No nothing.”

“Come on, open up, I’ve seen that look before, always when you want me to agree to something you don’t think I’m gonna like.”

“Those marks. The ones on my wrists, I don’t know how they got there. Or rather I do, but I don’t.”

“Well thanks for making sense, you sure you’re feeling ok?”

He pulled away from the comforting arm and faced the other, slightly taller man.

“Yes. I’m fine. I think. Let’s get indoors.”

They had reached the steps leading up to the front door of their building, slid the key in the lock and went into the elevator. Once inside their apartment he fell onto the couch and sighed.

“Well?”

“OK. Just hear me out. I know this will sound strange but go with me for a while here.”

His partner sat opposite him and leaned forward. The story came out in one long unbroken monologue. All the details, the guy, the car, the wall, the fucking and waking up in the bar.

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Story

The Wall – Part 01

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By slavebladeboi

He opened his eyes. The rough stone wall, about 4 inches from his nose, was blurred. Licking his dry lips, he moved away, but panic gripped his gut like a vice.

He couldn’t move.

The shock seemed to bring all his senses to life at once. And that’s when he felt what was holding him upright, rigid almost. He tried to move his head but could only do so a fraction. Straining his eyes downwards, he saw the steel bracket that held the collar that he now realised was round his neck, keeping his head so close to the brickwork.

He pulled at his arms. They were locked in position, about 45 degrees below the horizontal and stretched out just enough for him to feel the manacles bite into the backs of his hands, again the same distance from the wall. His elbows too were encased in an unforgiving metal bond.

He was standing straight, his knees held locked, metal tubes about 6 inches long grasped them and forbade them from bending even slightly, his ankles the same distance from the wall locked in position, his feet turned outwards to accommodate that fact.

His fear overcame his senses. He cried out, he yelled. Nothing but a hollow echo returned.

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Story

The Edge – Chapter 10

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By Steellock and slavebladeboi

Matt listened to the familiar thump of his boots on concrete as he ran towards the shop. It was still before 9 in the morning but the sun was warm and the sweat sheen on his shoulders reflected the light as his muscles moved effortlessly beneath the skin. He felt good, as he always did with the prospect of a day at the shop.

About 100 yards away from the front door he stopped to catch his breath and cool slightly. He didn’t want to turn up as though he was ready for a shower but Jim had asked if he could be there before 9 so he walked on slowly towards the shop. It looked closed. Although it was never that bright inside it looked darker than usual so Matt tried the door expecting it to be locked. It opened straight away, which took him a bit by surprise but thinking no more of it he went in. Walking across the floor to the back of the shop he heard a noise and two guys stepped out from behind one of the display racks each holding pieces of leather equipment they had taken off the rack nearest them.

“Say, do you work here?” the first guy asked Matt. He was about Matt’s size, older by 10 years but looked as hard muscled as anyone Matt could remember. Wearing a sleeveless T shirt and jeans he walked over to him holding out a thick leather hood.

“I want this for my boi but I’m not clear about the fixings. Can you help?”

“Well, I don’t actually work here although I have done some work for the owner,” Matt said catching a glimpse of the second man pulling the tail of a dangerous looking single tailed whip slowly through his fingers, a thick flogger hanging over his shoulder. “What do you want to know?”

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Story

Choices

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By slavebladeboi

Adam smelled the coffee brewing and very soon heard it coming, or rather heard his slave bringing it. The heavy steel chain between Ben’s ankles dragged slowly across the wooden floor as he brought the tray into the room.

Adam pointed to the table next to his recliner and carried on reading. It took several seconds for him to realise something wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t something he heard, it was something he didn’t hear. He didn’t hear the sound of the chain being dragged back to the kitchen.

What?

I’m sorry Adam.

What? Something clutched at Adam’s stomach. For the past 9 months he’d been either Master or Sir, never Adam.

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Story

The Boxer’s Gloves: Two Points of View

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By slavebladeboi

Part 1: The Boxer

It was only as I was passing the table in the hallway on my way down to the dungeon that I glanced down and noticed them. The slave was in the habit of buying me little presents from what remained of his allowance for running the Fireblade at the end of the month and on this occasion it had been a pair of black leather sparring gloves. I picked them up and looked at them. They had arrived in the post the previous morning and I often mused as to whether the postman wondered about the anonymous parcels that we received on a regular basis.

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