Category Archives: Story

Story

Trip to Storyville – Part 01

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By Anaconda in a Cage

A married couple, Brian and Tom, are out for dinner in the French Quarter in New Orleans on a quiet Wednesday evening. They’ve lived in New Orleans for years, but they pass an adult toy store that they’ve never been in before and decide to return after drinks and dinner at Pat O’Brien’s.

The adult toy store, Storyville (named after the old redlight district), features a wide variety of adult toys. The front half of the store is targeted toward the more vanilla end of the spectrum and features leather wear, magazines, DVDs, lubes, dildos, cock and ball toys, a wide variety of condoms and French ticklers, male chastity cages, and a range of exotic bedding.

Brian and Tom browse the leatherwear section and find matching leather jockstraps made from the skin of Burmese pythons from Florida. They ducked into the fitting room and found that the jocks fit perfectly, enhancing their packages and feeling great. (Both men have similar cocks, 4 inches limp and 6 inches erect, which present nicely in the jocks.) Brian notices that the mirror in the fitting room is actually a sliding door which opens to reveal the back room of the shop.

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Story

100 Hours in Solitary – Part 04

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By Socalbd

I must have drifted off to sleep as the lights turning on woke me up.  I was on my side facing into the cell and the sudden bright light coming on brought me out of my sleep.

There were sounds within the facility.  A door that opened and closed.  A toilet flushing.  Someone walking heavy in the hallway.  Then silence.  More silence.

The pod door opened and the guard entered with breakfast.  It was a repeat of yesterday.  Another meal of protein bar, banana and dry cereal.  The cereal was in a box likely from a mixed set of kid’s cereal choices sold at Costco or Sam’s Club.  Other than the banana and peanut butter sandwiches, almost all the food was pre-packaged items.  Again, very little expense was put out for this inmate’s survival.  It was the bare minimum.  Thoughts again came to me of my being warehoused.  Nothing was to be provided to me that would be considered beyond sufficient.

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Story

100 Hours in Solitary – Part 03

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By Socalbd

When the lights came on, I woke up.  The bright glaring light was impossible on this morning to ignore.  There was talking from the hallway I couldn’t make out.  At least two people were having a conversation.  I heard steel doors open and close.  And then it went quiet.  Being in solitary means being ignored.  Whoever they were they had to know someone was on the other side of the door.  But they didn’t care.  I was just an inmate in solitary.  No need to worry about me.  No need to check on me.

The pod door opened and a guard entered.  He sat a bag of food on the flat steel food slot of the cell door and then left the pod closing the hallway door.  No conversation.  No exchange of the bag from the dinner meal the night before.  Just a delivery to be made.  A banana, protein bars, and a box of dry cereal were in the bag.  The first meal that didn’t include a peanut butter sandwich.

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Story

100 Hours in Solitary – Part 02

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By Socalbd

I woke up every couple of hours.  At some point when I was awake for a few moments, I saw a sliver of light in the pod coming from an air vent on the outer wall of the common area.  What time it was I couldn’t tell.  I assumed it was early morning, but I didn’t really know and rolled over and went back to sleep.

I woke up when I heard the pod door open. The lights had been turned on at some point.  The guard was back and ordered me up.  A bag was in his hand.  I remembered to grab the bag from the night before and we switched bags.  He walked away.

Breakfast was a peanut butter sandwich and a banana.  Prior to the experience my friends and I discussed food as punishment as part of the experience.  The topic of having the same meal in succession over and over again came up.  This was the start.

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Story

100 Hours in Solitary – Part 01

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By Socalbd

This wasn’t an experience that was suggested to me.  It’s something I wanted to do.  Paid a fee to rent the space.  Enlisted some friends to join in as fellow inmates and guards.  Arranged for five nights and six days to be in isolated solitary confinement.

100 hours is what it ended up being.  100 hours with limited human interaction. 100 hours of time locked up primarily in a 7-by-7-foot cell.  100 hours of nothing but the walls, the bars, the steel bunk and my own mind to keep me company.  No books.  No magazines.  No cell mate.  Just the sounds of the prison periodically traveling through the HVAC ducts and even that was limited. Hours upon hours of silence other than the gentle humming of the air through the vents.

Why?

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Story

Roped and Wrangled in the Woods – Part 15

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By Sorbus

My car idled, motor humming ever so slightly. The solid gate stood before me, not yet open. 4:42. Three minutes remaining. Cell signal wasn’t strong enough to send a text, not that I would have done it anyway. I was pretty sure it was rule number 2 or 3, maybe 4?, of being a ‘boy’- it’s Sir’s time that matters. I’d been sitting there for about 10 minutes, actually. Thankfully traffic had been minimal, because most of the weekend glampers hadn’t gotten off work yet, to clog the highway with their RVs and trailers.

My fingers tapped along to the beat of the music, thumbs drumming on the steering wheel. I look over to the passenger seat, for about the 20th time. Yep, my overnight bag was still there. I’m not sure I was surprised or not, that he’d told me to only bring one change of clothes- for Monday morning when he ‘released me’ back into the world that would be carrying on while we. . . did whatever he had planned. And there had been plenty of dropped hints about all the things he’d had planned!

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Story

Roped and Wrangled in the Woods – Part 14

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By Sorbus

“Hello, Rowan,” Dr. Travers’ bright, British accent carried a concerned note. “Jason was right. You really must not be feeling well. You look a tad feverish. Are you running a temperature?”

I bit my lip and quickly shook my head. I also took a reflexive backstep, because Dr. Travers was a touchy-feely kind of guy. Nothing ever inappropriate, but I wouldn’t have put it past his paternal instincts to kick in, and do the ‘forehead check.’

Unfortunately, by stepping back, I was no longer blocking Sir’s presence from being visible.

“Oh, hello there, Derek. What brings you up here?” Dr. Travers seemed genuinely surprised and confused at first, but then he looked back and me. . . and then I watched as his nose twitched ever so slightly. Yeah. . . small enclosed space with poor ventilation? Even with his load having been shot directly down my throat. . .  even the most discrete oral sex is going to leave a certain . . . odor.

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Story

Roped and Wrangled in the Woods – Part 13

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By Sorbus

Was this my life now? To be surrounded by bossy Doms who found me in moments of . . . poorly planned distress or humiliation? And. . . why did it seem like some part of me felt like I was ok with that.

“I blame you,” I muttered, staring down at my crotch.

“What was that?” Jason asked over his shoulder, as he led the way.

I merely grunted something unintelligible and followed behind, unsure why I felt naughty. We passed through the parking lot and into the main entrance of a hideously looking building. But the hallways of the College of Agricultural Sciences were packed with cowboy ranchers-to-be and the most adorable plant-geeky guys studying horticulture; the agronomists landed somewhere in between that wide spectrum of masculinity.

I had discovered during my sophomore year that the horribly outdated bathrooms were constructed of solid cinderblock walls- wonderfully sound-dampening cinderblock. And I’d found myself on my knees while a closet-case cowboy stood above me and let me drain his tap. It had happened a couple of other times, with one of those plant-geeky guys, as well.

I quickly shook those memories away as passed the door to one of those restrooms, then entered the echoing stairway, with the creepy florescent lighting, and headed up to our grad student office.

“Hold up there, boy,” Jason said, went I started to step around him on the first landing. He pushed me up against the wall and smirked. “Drop trou and let me see it. I want to see your cage while you’re standing up. I’m really curious about it now.”

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