Matt lay on his bed and thought about how his life had changed over the last few months since he left the Marines to become the Demo Boi at the leather and rubber BDSM store by the harbor.
In some ways the change was total but in others it was strangely similar.
The bed he was lying on was virtually the same; a narrow steel framed bed with a thin, slightly lumpy mattress.
What was different was what he was wearing. Instead of cotton shorts they were made of thick rubber with rubber belts locked around each thick, muscular thigh. A rubber pouch at the front held his cock and balls and it was zipped up each side with padlocks joining them to the thick rubber waist belt. Which was also locked.
At the back his butt was filled with a steel plug behind another locked zip.
Instead of military Commando boots he was always wearing tall, heavy black leather thick soled boots that had 20 tidy tight lines of red lacing up the front. The laces tucked under the top of his red socks that were neatly folded down.
Continue reading The Edge – Chapter 12: Matt the Demo Boi
Joe and Adam climbed out of the taxi in the small East Anglian market town and looked at the red brick terraced house. It was Sunday morning of a Bank Holiday weekend and a lot of planning had gone into today.
The house looked like the ones on each side, but today it would be holding a secret inside! They were here for a real festival of bondage; many guys would be gathering to experience that wonderful feeling of giving up the freedom to move around, and in some cases the freedom to move at all!
Joe was here to be the man in charge – to be the Top to all these guys – he did not really know yet how many. Adam was here with his partner, but he was taking part – being in tight bondage was a real love of his and he was already hard at the thought. He had hardly slept at all that night.
Continue reading A Festival of Bondage – We Can Make This Happen!
The wait was over!
As a dedicated switch he loved meeting with friends for a few hours; switching roles between top and bottom. Restraining his friends and taunting them with clamps, peg, electrodes; the many and varied toys he had gathered over the last few years. All the while knowing that the boi in his hands would soon be dealing out to him something very similar. It might be the sting of the cane as he was strung up tight to the ceiling or the tap tap tap of the crop on his thigh as he sat, tightly held in his bondage chair.
But soon it would be over. He rarely found a top with the time or the inclination to just restrain him for a long pure session of pure bondage. Imobilised. Zipped and strapped into his sleepsack. Spread-eagled on the bed with leather restraints, chains and padlocks. Securely held in Segufix – perhaps his greatest pleasure. Such tops are either few and far between or expensive!
Continue reading The Wait
Matt the Ex-Marine?
Matt awoke. He always woke fast, no slow realisation of where he was just light like a light bulb. It was today. He realised he was hard, very hard under the blanket but he knew that doing something about it was wrong today. He needed all the sexual tension to help get though it. Yesterday he had been setting up the squad. They had been chatting in the bar and he had reminded them all of the flogging they had seen 12 months ago at the “Pride” event. A few guys were new and had not seen it so Matt had encouraged the others to talk it through and give them the story. How they had gone into the club under the Leatherstore to find a bar and lots of cellars with guys playing.
Then at the end the crowd gathered looking at the muscle hunk suspended from the ceiling, his hood hiding his identify. Then they talked about the manager’s challenge to the audience at the club; who would agree to take the same punishment as the House Boi suspended in front of them? Of course no one had! Not a surprise when they had seen the flogging and whipping that had then followed – for a good hour covering the guy’s back, chest, butt and thighs. His tough body had been covered in welts and bruises but he had done little more than growl and swear in a low deep voice.
As he expected the group decided to go and watch again this time as the Newbies were sceptical that it had been that good.
Continue reading The Edge – Chapter 11
So here I am, it’s Friday and I am trotting down the stone stairs into the cellar bar, my boots thumping as I go down. Back in my thick leather bulldog chest harness and 20-hole black boots all covered by Camo trousers and a Levi jacket over a white T shirt.
At the bottom is an appointment with a tight steel gibbet cage. Last weekend I had spent a night in it; after a play session Ryan the barman had slept the sleep of the unjust in front of me while an Estim box had zapped pads all over my body at 30-second intervals. I had been twitching and writhing as much as the steel embrace allowed – which was virtually not at all! My cock was tired and sore after the evening’s entertainment but had still been pushing hard against the spikes in a chastity cage Ryan had locked on as he released me from ‘The Shed.’ I had ‘Mmmrrrpphh’ed all night through a rubber tongue gag unable to wake him and get him to turn the fucking thing off! The next morning he had commented that it was a good thing that pre-cum was not toxic to stainless steel, judging by the amount that I had dribbled onto the solid steel of the cage.
Continue reading The Cage – Part 04
“Your true love gave to you: A dragon tail over both cheeks! Happy Christmas Boi! Are you ready for a celebration?” He asked. The impact is like a thick cane with a fiery sting that wraps itself around the side of your butt and makes you shout. It fucking hurts and is normally held for the end of the sessions! Or when i’ve been a bad boi….
“On the second day of Christmas” and i saw stars as He landed our widest and thickest rubber paddle on first my right then my left butt, swinging it hard and hitting right where the dragon tail had just fallen. My heart sank – Oh shit what was in His seriously inventive mind? “And a dragon tail over both cheeks,” He chanted and the action followed the words.
Not that there was much i could, or i suppose really wanted to, do about it… My wrists were locked in thick padded leather restraints that were locked to the arms of the St Andrews Cross. A second set were locked round the legs of my 20-hole boots and locked to the spread legs of the cross. A thick wide leather belt went round my tight waist, holding me firmly to the structure but also a safety measure for wayward strokes. Now in two years together he had NEVER missed with a stroke!
His present to me was a new “Bishop” head harness, complete with a long tongue gag; a flat rubber plate that was now sitting over my tongue and very effectively restricting the volume of my first howl of the night.
Continue reading My True Love Gave to Me
It was a long week.
Last weekend standing behind a locked cell door all night with my cock and balls hanging out of a round porthole exposed to all cummers had been one of the best times I have had. The guys in the bar had taken turns to pump me dry; they had sucked and pulled and tweaked me to orgasm four or five times and then just kept going. I was dry, and it was agony. Wonderful agony. Then after the barman had lifted his arm, rung ‘Time’ on the old bell and eventually got everyone out of the bar and came over and peeked at me through the little window into my eyes. He grinned and mimed wanking – fuck not again I tried to yell, shaking my head furiously, and he laughed. Bastard – I was falling in love with this guy!
He disappeared from my window, and then I jumped as much as the chains on my wrists and ankles would allow when I felt his hand on my poor aching cock. He was very gently massaging it and also rolling my balls in his hard hand. I realized he was rubbing in soothing oil. It felt wonderful. Suddenly he had stretched the silicon ring over the root of my cock and balls then eased my bruised and tender member into the lubed tube. The padlock clicked, I could hear it in the now quiet bar. I was back in chastity. For another week or so I supposed.
Then he opened the door and unlocked the restraints, and I staggered forward. He caught me under the arms and carried me to a barstool. I weigh 85 kilo – this guy is as strong as he looks! It turns out his name is Ryan, and he runs the bar for its owner, his Master!
Continue reading The Cage – Part 03
I walked into the bar the following weekend. I had dressed more suitably, and I had been working out in the week, too. Showing were my loose camo trousers and the bottoms of a pair of black boots with white laces. On top there was a white T and my Bleacher jacket. The guy at the top of the stairs had just let me straight through! Nice to be expected!
My cock has been locked in a silicon cage for a week by a chuckling and very sexy barman, and I’m very horny.
My barman was there again. Still in leather bondage shorts, boots and harness and still absolutely fucking gorgeous! Did he even own anything else? He looked up and grinned at me – ‘Hey ready for round 2?’ he called. ‘How close can you judge it this weekend? You want a third session in another week?’ So he had rumbled me. I was hooked and ready for a good night of kink, and he knew it.
The three cages were still there. The standing one with the restraints, the head cage and the large supply of titclamps – that one was intense. The puppy cage with the piss hood and butt fucking machine and then the heavy duty one with the stocks, ankle/wrist bar and estim box.
‘You want more of the same or a change?’ he said, the grin getting wider. ‘We got a new cage, and you will love it. You get to have the cock cage removed too. Got to be good eh?’ He waved at a cloth hanging on the wall. ‘Its behind there — you have to choose without seeing it too!’
Continue reading The Cage – Part 02