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.
Continue reading A Day on the Slopes
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.
Continue reading Earn It Pup – Chapter 7
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.
Continue reading Over the Line – Part 4: Fourth Down
“Show some respect. This is Ari’s brother!”
The words are still as chilling now, as they were then. I still see his face, as he sat there sipping a pumpkin spice latte. How could I have missed it? He even looked like he could be Ari’s brother. Maybe that was why I’d been so aloof at first?
I’m still wracked with guilt. Ari and I had been friends. Close friends, classmates, and frat brothers. He was straight, I was gay, and though we did make out a couple times, it never meant anything. We were bros, and friends forever. Until suddenly we weren’t. He got married to his perfect woman, and they had a son. But then he was in that accident, and it all ended so quickly. We never got closure, but his wife and son visit the University every year. I since dove into my masters studies, work, and started drinking more.
His name is Robert. He’s like a cuter, younger version of Ari. The same dark eyes, and a old-world calmness about his manner. Unlike Ari, he’s shorter, a little hairier, clearly gay, and kinkier than one could believe. Watching what he was doing with Shawn was both terrifying and fascinating.
Continue reading Bro to Ho – Part 4: Gabe’s Story
See more like this at Straight Up Guys
See more bondage like this at Straight Up Guys
This story originally appeared on RubberZone. It is reposted here with permission.
Less than an hour later, Matt was again sweating in rubber, but this time for the added reason that he was running on his treadmill. Tonight he had returned home to find the rubber hood he had worn the night before waiting for him once again on the laundry, along with a wide tube gag, a rubber wrestling suit, running shoes and a pair of fist mitts. It was an outfit that told Matt that he was in for an evening of exercise.
The tube gag was not for piss, but to ensure that Matt could take the deep breaths that his body would crave while he worked out. But tonight it also served to effectively prevent Matt from questioning his roommate about the events of the day. Matt no longer had any doubt that the way in which his roommate had taken over Matt’s life was connected directly with the refinery. But he still had so many questions – questions he knew that he would probably never get to ask.
The workout was followed by the standard cold shower and the standard dinner – a protein shake poured down Matt’s throat – before the plug gag was secured once again around the rubber hood. And though Matt was then desperately ready to be put to bed and catch up on his desperately needed sleep, it became apparent that his evening with his roommate was far from over. One by one, Matt’s roommate took Matt’s hands, pushed them into a fist, then inserted each inside a rubber fist mitt. Then, carefully, and with a hand firmly on Matt’s shoulders, Matt’s roommate guided him down the old rickety stairs into the cellar.
Continue reading The Roommate – Part 8