Picture from Straight Up Guys
Drip…another lump of slime falls into my open mouth hole with an audible plop. i’ve no idea how long we’ve been tied like this. All i can do is stare up at the handsome beast above me. Tough looking, masculine, muscled, handsome. Drip…when i’d been dragged in i’d instantly got hard at the sight of him…naked…hogtied…gagged….sweating…struggling….drooling. He was dirty, a few bruises, looked like he’d been in a fight maybe. Wide leather straps secured him into the vicious hogtie, muscles straining. His grunts and groans the only thing breaking the silence. He looked angry, aggressive, scary….fuckin hot. A Beast.
Drip…Drip…But i didn’t have long to admire his manliness. Rough hands dragged me and threw me on the dirt in front of him, a few swift, brutal kicks got me into position, lying directly under him. Inches from this fuckin God….beneath…lower than him in all ways.
Drip…Drip…Drip…its fuckin gushing now! filling me, drowning me. Next they’d wrapped lengths of leather hide round my body….tight! Everything bound tight together…painfully tight so i couldn’t move an inch. My balls also wrapped in tight leather hide. My cock sticking up purple and horny…not allowed to cum in a month.
Owen was bored with his office job at a large design firm. He piddled about, unsatisfied that a newly earned college degree from an Ivy league school wasn’t bearing fruit. Perhaps majoring in Art History was a bad idea. As he came to and from the elevators to work every day, he paid little mind to the chaos in the lobby. A large suite on the first floor adjacent to the lobby was under heavy construction. Noise, dust, and a flurry of dirty laborers going in and out of a large plastic tarp draped over the entrance to the area.
Several days in to the mess, however, one of the construction workers caught Owen’s eye. The blue-collar worker was young, maybe just a few years older than Owen. Lean and handsome. Clean cut. Perhaps a mix of white and Latino. Always in a basic t-shirt that showed off his muscle toned arms, blue jeans, and a baseball cap turned backwards. And, the same pair of beat up large work boots. Size 12 or 13?
Owen took as many smoke breaks as he could to justify trips through the lobby or an outdoor area where he often saw the stud. He barely even smoked and never at work.
He secretly took pictures of the sexy broey man. Pretending to be texting on his phone. Particularly his footwear. The thick, tan work boots were scuffed up and well used. Owen had a “foot fetish.” He dreamed of licking his smelly feet.
This is a true story from my college years when I was closeted and had joined a fraternity.
I decided to spend the night with my pledge brother, Chris Thompson. It was after an evening of partying at the frat house and his apartment was walking distance. I didn’t want to drive home drunk, but mostly it was mostly excuse to get him alone. I was curious about Chris ever since I heard the rumors from the other members of our pledge class. The story was, Chris was gay. What threw me off though was his persona. Chris was a recent Army discharge and he was a muscular, hyper masculine meathead.
I felt like he didn’t fit the stereotype, but then again neither did I. Was he a closet case like me?
At his apartment, we started to drink more beers from his refrigerator. We kicked off our shoes and watched UFC on the couch. I could smell the warm scent of his socked feet. Smelly socks were a big turn on for me! It was an aphrodisiac.
Come to Whistler, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.
Mitch grunted in frustration as he replayed the events of the last several days in his mind. He and his friends were avid skiers, so when they offered a week-long stay at Whistler, Mitch had of course taken them up on it. What he didn’t think about, though he now realized he should have, was payment. Mitch groaned. His body was sore. No, not from hours of black diamond runs, not at all. But from being left hogtied on the couch all day.
He was in his full gear, compression layers, long underwear, ski bib, a sweater, and parka. His thick socks, scarf, hat, and gloves were on too, as well as his goggles and boots. It looked hot as hell, and he certainly was. His hands were tied behind his back, with a simple chest harness. His feet were drawn up as tight as the thick layers of clothing allowed, and tied off to the harness. A rank sweaty sock had been stuffed in his mouth and tied in with another pair, compliments of his buds. The back of the gag was tied back to his boots, forcing his body into an uncomfortable arch.
By Pup Shaggy
A firm slap to the side of my face woke me up, my head trying to recoil but held in place firmly. My muffled exclamation, followed fast by groaning and whimpering reminded me of my situation, quickly realising that my entire body was either dead or asleep, tied down for too long and too tightly. Not that I was about to argue. There was a low chuckle over me and a sudden burst of light as the blindfold was removed off my face revealing my captor.
I could only see his chest through the eye holes of my hood; all fuzzy and muscular… it was Alex. I was un-able to turn or lift my head, held down by a belt or chain probably fed through my hood somehow. I couldn’t move an inch. Slowly, Alex’s chin appeared and then his smile. His hand appeared, resting on the nose of my dog-hood giving it a scratch. I couldn’t feel it, but I murred and groaned happily as I watched his fingers dance across the surface of the fabric of the hood.
“Good pup, sorry for bailing out and leaving you here like this.” I looked back at him with a muffled whine. I didn’t care, not in the slightest. I’d whine, whimper and beg but I loved it “I needed to think. About me… About you…” He leant on the table beside me, his hand moving to my forehead. Now this I could feel, faintly sensing his fingers through the hood. His eyes stared at me and I knew there was thought going on behind them. I sensed a question was coming my way, but none came.
By ty dehner
The clicking of the breathing from the gas mask woke me. Unsure of the time, it was morning and I felt Linebacker’s arm wrapped around me, holding me near him. The constant light breathing from the mask was all that I heard as I stretched. I could feel the smooth slick surface of Sir’s football pants against my bare skin, with his one leg wrapped over both of mine. Naked, because Sir was punishing me for not doing my work out while he was out of town for the week, that is how I was waking this morning.
I had disappointed Sir by not doing my workout while he was gone. He was not overly pissed but there was some punishment doled out when he returned home last night. My sleeping naked is strong statement from him, because we both love gear and for me not to be in it also disappoints him. As I woke more, I rolled over and looked at my gas masked Linebacker sleeping. Slowly, I worked my way down to his crotch, under the blankets of our bed. Gently working the laces on his pants, I got his beautiful dick out and was able to take it in my mouth. While lightly toying with his dick with my tongue, I reached up and covered the breathing port on Sir’s gas mask. As the air was missing, he shuttered awake, his gloved hands reaching down and stroking my shaved head. Sir rolled on his back and let me continue his wake-up call.