Tag Archives: Straight Up Guys

The Drool Bucket – Part 1

By submittor

The Drool Bucket male bdsmDrip…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.

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Caught by the Contractor

By SockgaggedJason

gay athletic men in bondageOwen 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.

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My Night at Pledge Brother Chris’ Apartment

By SockgaggedJason

SockgaggedJason gay bondage storiesThis 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.

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A Day on the Slopes

By Cutieboy90

gay male BDSM fictionCome 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.

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