Florida has a funny way of taking things the rest of world enjoys and making them trashier. Outside of the state’s biggest cities and most expensive zip codes, this state has all the refinement of a Jerry Springer episode, and the gay culture is no exception. One area where the trashy factor really shines through is in the run down mid-century motels turned into gay resorts. They litter the state and all have a similar feel: sparsely furnished rooms, poolside bars, and lush landscaping to keep activities somewhat private. One of these resorts on the west coast is pretty big and has some well attended themed weekends, so naturally I checked in for their annual leather weekend. I left my sometimes uptight professional demeanor at home, submitted to the fact that it would not be a weekend at the Four Seasons, and packed for what I hoped would be Florida’s version of IML.
I set my work aside early on Friday afternoon and headed across the state to the resort. It was exactly what I had expected from the online photos, perhaps even a bit cleaner and more updated. There were two long two-story buildings with second floor open walkways flanking the pool. The former hotel lobby and restaurant had been converted to bars, one with a little dance floor. The décor was part kitschy mid-century modern, part whatever the owners could find on the cheap. The place reeked of bleach, which I took as a good sign.
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Clark stared straight ahead at the clock – not that he had much choice. The collar of the helmet was rigidly locked in place, and the helmet was so tight around his head that he couldn’t move inside it. Vickers had left the room in darkness except for the spotlight on the box and a smaller one illuminating a clock face opposite Clark. Apart from closing his eyes, Clark had no choice but to watch the clock slowly counting down the minutes.
The hands of the clock seemed to move like someone wading through tar. By the time Clark had been in there for 15 minutes, it felt like far longer. Already he knew he was in trouble. With his arms locked behind him, his muscles were cramping painfully. His heavy biceps and shoulders worked against him and made the bondage more secure. He tried to move, but he could do little but twitch inside the box. The chains restraining his chest and waist were heavy and solid, and he couldn’t move them an inch. His legs were locked securely in place, and their positioning meant that his back and arse were forced further into the rubber of the chair. He couldn’t even wiggle his arse, as the rubber tube that had been pushed up inside him was also solidly in place.
Continue reading Busman’s Holiday – Part 08
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Logan is terrified as he watches his tormentor – a muscular young man much bigger but not much older than himself – pull off his shorts and then simultaneously stroke Logan’s and his own cock. “This guy wants me to get off while he gets off,” Logan thinks to himself, instinctively knowing that if he doesn’t deliver there will be hell to pay. Smart. Jared stops stroking their cocks just long enough to attach electrodes to Logan’s left ankle and right wrist cuffs, making sure metal touches skin. “Why?” Logan pleads, knowing the pain will be unbearable. Jared works his own and the prisoner’s cock a little longer before flipping the switch, sending the captive into a nightmare of pain. “You’re crazy!” Logan whimpers. “Normal is boring,” Jared replies, then turns up the current.
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“Do you mind if I check my emails on your laptop? Mine’s still running funny,” Ste shouted down the hallway.
“Yeah, no problem.” Dan had gotten used to Ste borrowing his stuff since he’d moved in. He knew he should probably start setting some boundaries but Ste was the hottest guy he’d ever seen so having him as a roommate was too good for Dan to put at risk through a needless argument.
Ideally if he could’ve afforded it Dan would’ve preferred to live alone so he could indulge some of his kinkier desires. Ste knew Dan was gay and he hadn’t said anything negative when Ste had guys stop the night but Dan didn’t want Ste knowing most of fantasies were about being made to submit to a Master. Pain, humiliation, domestic service and chastity were just some of the things he’d jerked off thinking about. Unfortunately the furthest he’d got with most of it was looking at it online. On his laptop. Oh shit.
“Dan, what the fuck?” Dan panicked. He turned round to see Ste walk into the room carrying the laptop grinning. He turned it around so Dan could see a guy tied up and blindfolded on the screen being whipped by another naked guy.
Continue reading Birthday Treat
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