Tag Archives: Strip Search Hell

Story

Bondage in 2020 Cell Without Bars – Part 07

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By felon

Apparently the discussion outside the door concerned me. It seems my status as a felon slave was being moved quickly into some level of complete ownership. This would be more than a weekend session. From what I could determine, and what I had already suspected, these men were more concerned about the mental and physical aspect of control than appearance, age, etc. And they had done their homework, checking into my finances, lifestyle, earnings, savings and lack of family. I would be the perfect project for their Prison Group.

They entered the room I was being kept in and removed my leather gag. It seems there would finally be some kind of communication. I was in a very vulnerable situation, naked, gaged, ass plugged. I was removed from the table and forced up against the concrete block wall. I was photographed by cell phone camera from all sides, all angles, naked of course. It was then I noticed two ceiling-mounted cameras in the room. So it would be safe to say that others might be involved in this action in the mountains of West Virginia. Close-up pics were taken of my wrist tat and leg tat. I was handed a sign to hold for the cell camera with my ID – PA6404.

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Story

12 Hours

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By Practicerestraint

All is true.—Shakespeare, Henry VIII

 

10:20 p.m.

The text message read: You have two minutes to get dressed and be ready. Unlock the front door.

 

10:25 p.m.

I was brushing my teeth when I heard the noise at the front door. Then I heard, “Police! Announce yourself!”

It’s hard to announce yourself with a mouthful of toothpaste. I spit, rinsed, and moved from the bathroom to the bedroom as the officer repeated himself and I called out, “I’m here.”

“Come out here!”

I walked into the dark hall to see a flashlight and a gun pointed at me. The officer’s specific words after that escape me. They were nonstop directions that ended only when I was lying face down on the carpet at the end of the hall, arms out to the sides, palms up. The officer knelt, grabbed my left wrist, pulled my arm to the middle of my back, and applied the handcuffs. After he brought my right hand back to complete the job, I realized he had my palms facing out. He instructed me to stand, providing assistance as I did. He grabbed my left arm and led me out the door.

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Story

What the Fuck? – Part 2

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By convict 975468

He came again.

I heard him on the stairs, and stood as I had been told before he reached the top.

He approached and with an evil glint in his eye, he again placed his finger across his lips indicating quiet.

He didn’t need to, I was acutely aware of the rule. I had been worried all morning that I might somehow piss him off and not be fed. I was fully resolved to do whatever I could to please him. He held a mighty weapon with my hunger.

He walked up to me stopping about a foot away, staring into my eyes for what seemed a year. Then he slowly walked around me, stepping over the chain, and stopped facing me again.

I must have turned a bright shade of red, as I flushed from the humiliation. He had no fear! I was his – he owned me. Now, I knew it too.

He stepped closer. I could feel his breath on my face.

“You are doing well.” He smiled.

“Once I give you permission to move, you may request to speak. You will do so by raising your right arm, and pointing upward with your index finger. Do it now.”

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Story

Iowa Cowboy – Part 02

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By Atlanta Stud

Hogtied on the floor, belly side down and Dave’s sweaty socked big toe had invaded my mouth and along with that some specific instructions as to how part of the rest of the night was going to be spent. After a couple minutes, Dave removed his socked toe from my mouth, took his sock off and placed it right under my nose. The sweat from his feet combined with his leather boots was intoxicating. He bent down near me and began telling me things that I didn’t know this farmboy had been paying attention to over the past semester.

“You see, cowboy, I’ve been paying attention to some things about you this past semester. I’ve noticed that you often wear the same no-show socks with your sneaks several days, even a week at a time without washing them. Even saw you a couple times take a whiff of ’em when you pulled them off, you just didn’t realize that I actually saw you do it. Seems to me, cowboy, that you have a thing for sweaty socks, and feet too I bet.”

With that I shook my head no in trying to convince him he was wrong, but he continued by telling me that it was cool, because he was going to enjoy having his feet taken care of by me all semester long starting with tonight as he reminded me that the ropes weren’t coming off until he was satisfied with my work.

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Story

The Hunting of Spider-gimp

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By boyryan54

boyryan54The hunt is on. Gimp is curious who will win…Will it be Master Mike? Master Robert? Or maybe Master John and Master Alex? Or Master Gary? The gimp’s mind darts between each of the men it serves as it ducks between the crowds at the convention. While the gimp desires each Master for their different techniques, it doesn’t want to make it easy for them. The chase can be fun. Gimp’s mind flashed to a few weeks ago.

It was Master Alex’s idea. Let the gimp loose in a large public event, and see which of the Masters can “bag” the gimp. The winner gets to claim the gimp as His full time property, though it is still devoted to the group. Gimp loved the idea. It was high time it moved in with one of the Masters full time and took its training to the next level.

Gimp had spent the last four years while in college training with the group; five Masters who all knew each other and wanted a devoted rubber sub to train and share. Since gimp graduated recently and was without too many attachments, it would be easy for it to move in with a Master. But it was Master Alex who suggested the hunt idea to keep it fair.

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Story

Over the Line – Part 3: Third Down

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By ty dehner

ropedweb stories

It is so fucking quiet; I can only hear my breathing. Seems I am so alone, no one around for miles. This is hard work and my gear is pretty soaked in sweat. I’m tired as shit, Sir is the toughest boss I’ve ever worked for. But the rewards are fucking awesome in the end.

The crew has left for the day, as I see Sir heading down the gravel road in his truck to pick me up. He really gave me the shit job today, literally. Cleaning outhouses is not the glamour job in construction, but as a pad pig, it is my job. Once every two weeks. There are 20 across the sites that Sir oversees. It is amazing how messy these guys are, though I admit I get a little horny thinking of them in their Carhartt’s, boots, jeans and muddy work overalls doing their business in these outhouses. When I work in these I have to wear rubber gloves and gas mask that Sir requires I wear while cleaning. The guys on the crew think I’m nuts for wearing it, but it is required, and I do it. I think Sir has me do it, because it humiliates me some and he likes that on occasion.

This week I’m in my black Carhartt overalls with, of course, my football pants and cup, with my uniform jersey on underneath. Even though it was warm out, I am required to keep my flannel shirt and Carhartt coat on, as well as work gloves. I’m still breaking in my new White’s lace up boots. Sir had them custom done with a small leather strap at the top that locks the boots on. My work uniform is finished off by a Packer’s cap that Sir soaked in his piss before letting it dry. On days that I work hard or am wearing the gas mask my sweat mixes with the dried piss and I do begin to smell!

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Story

Awakening (short story)

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By Mature Captive

“You have too much freedom.” He was always stronger than me. Bigger too, and his cock… Well let’s just say there’s good reason we call him “the Python.” And a couple decades younger too; so even while I was training him, I always knew and hoped someday he would come to dominate me. Deep down I wanted it too. So, as I slowly taught him all the dark arts of sadomasochism, I was just waiting for the day when he realized it for himself.

“Way too much freedom.” My heart thrilled and my cock stiffened at his words, but I remained silent. Bound helplessly as I was, already stretched out on the bondage bed, well gagged and hooded, there wasn’t much I could say or do. He was in charge, and supposedly this was to be another of our casual morning training sessions. But knowing him as well as I do, I could almost see the light go on in his brain.

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Story

The Roommate – Part 5

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By RbbrStorage

Note: ‘The Roommate’ originally appeared on the RubberZone site. It is re-posted here with permission.

“Work.”

The command sounded so familiar.  It was only Tuesday, Matt’s second day at work since the arrival of his roommate the previous Saturday, and yet it seemed as though he’d heard the command a thousand times before.  Of course, he had, but recorded on all prior occasions but one, burned into his subconscious by repetitive recordings instructing Matt on the proper response to each of the many commands he could expect to hear from now on.  Hour after hour had been spent by Matt, strapped down or suspended, stuffed into tight rubber bondage, his holes plugged and controlled, aware of little else but the tight rubber bondage and the voice of his new roommate, and not quite understanding the gradual impact that the repeated commands were having on his willpower.

Twenty-four hours earlier, the command had struck fear and anger in Matt’s heart and mind as he wrestled with the related instructions to shave his head, go to work and then return for more bondage abuse and storage at the end of the day.  But today, the command exploded in Matt’s mind like a starter’s pistol announcing a race.  Matt had already learned the previous day that his shaved head was no big deal at the refinery, and no one had even seemed bothered by the open collared shirt showing off his shaved chest, or, if anyone noticed, even the lack of underwear under his thin slacks.  Matt had learned, to his great relief, that even with a shaved body and tight fitting clothing he was still as invisible as ever – a wallflower who could go about his day without attracting attention, without attracting scorn.

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