At Brutal Tops, Master Aaron cruelly mocks his captive while ruthlessly whipping his arse raw!

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Master Leo ruthlessly pounds this prisoner’s arse and busts his balls!

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Master Leo mercilessly degrades and writes on his sub, mocks his erection and viciously smashes his balls!

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At Brutal Tops, Master James furiously punishes a locker room perv by belting his arse and making him grovel!

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By Mister-X/Spartan

Somehow Harry managed to make it through the several hours of standing at attention. He hated that tie and the tight shirt collar. He wondered how people could stand being dressed this way all the time. His stomach had been growling, and he wondered when he was going to be fed. Soon he started hearing the sound of a door opening and one of the ‘prisoners’ being marched out. He figured he was finally going to be fed.

When it was Harry’s turn, he was first checked to make sure he was at an erect attention, then marched out and down the hall. He was marched into that standing cage again. His cuffs and shackles were removed, and he was told to take off his shirt, tie and pants. After he’d done so, the clothes were folded neatly into a bag with his name on it, put on a shelf, and the cuffs and shackles were put back on. This time he also had something else put on. It was a leather hood with only two pinholes at the nostrils. After it was tightly strapped on over his gag, the pinholes lining up properly, he now could no longer see, and his breathing was a little restricted. He was then marched out of the cage and room and down the hall.

When he was stopped, he was helped down onto his knees and lower legs. He felt that he was resting on some canvas material. He felt the shackle on his right ankle being opened and brought up and over his handcuffs before being brought back down to be locked again on his right ankle. Harry realized he was now in a metal hogtie. He was helped down to lie on his stomach, and he felt the canvas material being brought up and closed at the top above his head. He wondered what was going on. But all he heard was the sound of the guy who did this leaving the room.

Finally Harry realized that this was how he would be spending the night. There seemed to be enough air coming into the sack, so this wasn’t a problem. He’d never spent the night in a sack in a hogtie position before, not to mention being gagged. This day was turning into a lot of new experiences for him. He was disappointed that his cock was in chastity, because otherwise he would enjoy this.

It took probably a couple of hours before Harry dropped off to sleep. He didn’t know how many hours he was out, but he awoke to the feeling of someone helping him get out of the sack. When he was out of the sack and the hogtie, he was ordered to stand at attention and march to the end of the line of men standing. He stole a glance in both directions, and saw that to his right there was a line of other guys standing at attention in their rubber underwear, and to his left there was a series of sacks with lumps filling them.

After all the sacks had been opened and emptied, the men were ordered to turn to their left. When they’d done so, they were ordered to start marching. Soon they were outside of the room they’d been in and were starting to march around a large yard. This kept up for a couple of hours. Periodically all would be stopped and one of them who had gotten out of the line or too close to the one in front would have his position corrected. Finally they were brought back inside and lined up at a communal bathroom. One by one they were taken inside, had their restraints removed so they could remove their underwear, were instructed to turn their underwear inside out, and had themselves and their underwear hosed down before being allowed to sit on a toilet.

Finished with this, they were given towels to dry themselves and their underwear, were ordered to put their underwear right side out and back on, had their restraints put back on, and were lined up again. After all were ready, they were marched into another room, one in which there was food set in front of a series of high backed metal chairs. All the chairs had straps attached. One by one they were sat down in the next chair with the straps attached securing them to the chair. There were straps at the ankles, legs below the knee, thighs, stomach, chest, and neck. Their cuffed hands were not attached to the chair, but brought behind it through an opening in the back of the chair.

After all were safely secured to the chairs, their handcuffs, hoods and gags were removed. It was the first time Harry had the gag out since he was ‘arrested.’ Finally they were allowed to eat. Harry found the food to be good and plentiful. There was meat, eggs, hash brown potatoes, fruit, pastries, and a large glass of juice, as well as coffee. All the gathered ate hungrily. After they were finished, the cuffs, hoods and gags were put back, and one by one, they were unstrapped from the chairs and required to stand at attention. When all were ready, they were marched back to the stand-up cage and, one by one, put inside to get dressed and again restrained. After each was ready, they would go outside the room to wait in line. When all were dressed, they were marched back to their cells, standing in front.

One of the guards in black leather started with each, holding a list, and either ordered them to report to work, taken by one of the gathered officers, or be put back into their cell and ordered to stand at attention. Harry was one of the latter.

When the disbursement of the gathered was finished, the guy in the black leather came back to Harry’s cell. “Harry Simpson, your information shows that you are a student at the local college, and will be starting your senior year in a month. Until that time, you are to remain here. When it is time for registration, we will give you the information and you will tell us which classes you wish to register for. We will take care of that for you. When classes begin, your arresting officer will take you to the college. Only when you arrive at your desk in each class will your handcuffs and gag be removed. Your arresting officer will sit next to you. When that class is finished your handcuffs and gag will be put back on, and your officer will lead you to what is next on your schedule. You will be dressed for classes as you are now. When the weather turns cold and wet you will also be given appropriate outerwear.

You are to always maintain an erect posture. A device has been put into your tie pin. If you deviate at all from an erect posture, it will register wherever you may be, and you will be suitably punished when you return. If you plan to take notes, you must continue looking straight ahead, holding up the writing implement and the paper to write in front of your eyes while you continue looking straight ahead. Likewise, if taking a test, you must do the same. If going to the bathroom, you still must look straight ahead. Do you understand?”

Harry was shocked at these instructions. He was going to have to go to classes dressed like he now was? He was going to have to always maintain a strictly erect posture, taking notes and tests by holding the pen and paper up in front of his eyes, and he would be cuffed and gagged until at his seat in the class, and immediately cuffed and gagged after the class ends? This was crazy! But he knew to immediately answer the question, and he quickly nodded his head up and down.

“Your arresting officer will know your schedule, and will bring you here when classes are over. This will now be your new home not only for the next month, but for your next college term. If you make no mistakes, you will be released on probation. When on probation, your arresting officer will still have the responsibility of taking you to and from your classes at college, you will still be required to maintain the dress you are currently in, as well as your erect posture, tie pin in place to ensure that you are, and your arresting officer will be visiting you every night at your home, as well as every weekend. Do you understand?”

Again, Harry was shocked to hear this. He hated that guy. He figured that guy would go out of his way to try to get Harry in trouble again, just as he’d done before. But he also immediately nodded his head up and down.

“Very good. It has been noted that your cock is turned on by being bound and gagged. While here, you will not be allowed any enjoyment from that. But when you are released on probation, your arresting officer has been instructed to always keep you bound and gagged after your studies are finished, doing to you whatever he wishes within the guidelines of what is allowed. He is one who is well versed in topping others, so you have that enjoyment to look forward to. Your probation lasts two years, and after that, it is up to the arresting officer how long he wishes to continue his play with you. You will have no say in the matter, and must always obey any orders he gives you. If you choose to get away from him, you will be returned here to be punished, starting the probationary period over again, and will then have a police record. Do you understand?”

Once again, Harry was shocked. Judging by how tight that cop had ratcheted his handcuffs, this guy was pretty sadistic. While it was true that Harry enjoyed being bound and gagged, he didn’t want something that would cause him permanent damage. But he realized that the way they had this set up he had no choice in the matter. He again quickly nodded his head up and down. He not only understood, he understood all too well.

The guard continued. “You are to always be in this city. You are not allowed to go visit any relatives that are a distance away. Your holidays will be spent here. We will take care of closing your apartment agreement and storing your belongings. What you have here is what you will have until your probation period starts, in addition to any class materials. Do you understand?”

Harry again nodded his head up and down. He was going to have to come up with some explanation for his parents as to why he can’t come visit them over the holidays. And he wouldn’t be allowed any use of his other possessions, like his cell phone and computer.

This started Harry’s new life. It was very structured and disciplined. He thought back longingly to his previous life of enjoyment and leisure. He blamed that cop for the misery he was now having to endure, someone who it appears will now always be a part of his life, since he couldn’t envision the cop not wanting to continue to play with him.

Somehow he made it through the following month and the first term of classes without slipping, despite the cop always cuffing his wrists as tight as he could. He was finally released on probation. But that was when the original arresting cop became an integral part of his life. As Harry suspected, the cop was quite sadistic. At least the cop varied the positions that he kept Harry in initially at night and on weekends, although his wrists were always cuffed tight, ankles in shackles, his mouth tightly gagged and the leather hood with nose holes only on his head. Some nights he would be in a tight spread eagle, some nights he would be in a hogtie, his wrists and ankles cuffed together and connected with a padlock. The cop installed a hoist in Harry’s apartment, and some nights Harry would be suspended from it, sometimes right side up, sometimes upside down. And there would be other positions. The cop never let Harry’s cock out of its prison.

Harry was required to always address everyone as ‘Sir’ whenever he spoke, whether it be instructors or fellow students at college, or the hated cop. Harry was forced to change into a young man who was respectful of others. He was looking forward to the end of his two-year probationary period. But suddenly Harry realized that he would be graduating from college when his spring term ended, and would be looking for a job, all while still on probation. Now that he was on probation he was free to spend his time at college as he wished to do. He tried socializing, but other students avoided him. So he concentrated on lining up job interviews. He very much wanted to get a job in another city so he could get away from the cop, but realized that this might not be allowed. He was given some white shirts to wear to job interviews instead of the black wool ones, ones that were provided by that facility, ones that would still cover the required underclothes and had hard, stiff, tight collars and cuffs. They were very uncomfortable to wear, but looked great.

At the job interviews, he was invariably told that he presented a very good image, both in dress and in the respectful way he addressed them. Harry started realizing that the training he was forced to endure was making him someone that had a good chance of landing an excellent job. He started viewing the forced changes in a different light.

When he was presented with a selection of jobs, the one he preferred happened to be here in this city. Since he was still on probation and was told that he had to remain in this city, this solved the problem of accepting a job in another city. He accepted the job in this city.

His parents came for his graduation, but wondered why he was always with a city policeman. He told them that he’d become friends with him, and they roomed together. The facility gave him a graduation present of a dozen of the white shirts and ties that he’d worn to the job interviews, with instructions of where they were to be laundered, since the facility had a contract with that laundry. These shirts were just as uncomfortable to wear.

He had some explaining to do at work about being delivered to work by a city policeman, as well as picked up by him, but he just said that it was his roommate that was living with him. That was at least partly true. The final year of the probation continued, and when it was up, the cop told Harry that he was moving in with him and now that the probation restrictions of what he could do to Harry were no longer in place, he was free to treat him the way he’s wanted to since he first met him. Harry had been told at that facility that he had no say in the matter, that it was the cop’s decision to make, that to reject his decision would be a violation and he would be arrested, so he had no choice but to accept the decision.

Harry had a good job at a company that was happy with his work, as well as his appearance, and he had started enjoying the bondage the cop had been giving him during the probationary period. During one of the few times when he wasn’t gagged, he told the cop that he appreciated him. It made no difference to the cop. To him, it was just part of his job, though he did enjoy having someone to torment, and he still considered Harry to be that ‘young punk.’ But he was glad to hear that the ‘young punk’ apparently now had some respect for his authority.

The cop started preparing for his fun, now that his restrictions were removed, getting out the spiked restraints, the metal slave collars, and the tit devices. He also got out the e-stim. As he thought about the fun he was going to have, he finally smiled. He also figured it was time to bring out his cock for Harry to service.

That night marked a major change in their relationship. The sight of the cop’s smile sent chills down Harry’s spine. And the sight of what he was now going to have to endure started Harry shaking uncontrollably. Harry’s opinion of the cop reverted back to his original opinion. But it was too late for him to back out now. The cop now had complete authority over Harry to do whatever he wanted to do, no matter how severe or extreme it was. And Harry now had no choice but to accept that.

Harry knew that if he tried to get away, he would soon be back in that facility, having to endure further punishment, having a police record. He would lose his job, and if he sacrificed two more years of his life, he’d eventually be back in this same position. Harry started having nightmares as he thought about what his life was now turning into. He thought about filing an official complaint with the authorities, but realized that it was the authorities who were authorizing this treatment. He felt like he was trapped.

That night the bondage changed to torture. Harry was strapped to one of those high back metal chairs that had been moved into his apartment. The ankle shackles and the handcuffs were those spiked ones, and a chain connected the two tightly under the chair. The cop showed him some of the gear that he’d brought into the apartment, including a noose rope, some plastic bags, and a wire. That hood was put over Harry’s head over his gag, and after it was strapped tightly, the cop started putting his fingers over the nose holes. Harry found that he was turned on by this, but his cock was still in chastity, so he couldn’t respond appropriately. The cop told Harry that he hoped that he was enjoying this, because he had lots of other ways he was going to start cutting off his breath that he enjoyed, including some he’d earlier shown him. The cop also said that he was filing down the tops of Harry’s shirt collars to make them razor sharp to cut into the underside of his chin. Harry was kept strapped to that chair all night to imagine what being tortured in those other ways were going to be like, as well as what his shirts were going to feel like at work.

The next morning, after the morning chores were taken care of, Harry was cuffed and shackled in the cop’s car for the ride to work, gag back in, sitting in the back of the cop’s car where the windows were blacked out so people couldn’t see in. This time the cuffs and shackles were those with spikes. The cop told him that this was now a permanent change. His shirt collar was also cutting into the underside of his chin.

After they arrived at work and the restraints were removed, the cop gave Harry a pair of gloves to put on to hide the spike marks. Harry dutifully got out of the car and went in to work, the tie pin still testing his posture, keeping him stiffly erect. Harry was rubbing his wrists, not saying or doing anything to indicate what was going on at home, his thoughts on what he’d heard in the last few hours. This was now the start of his new life, one in which he would be constantly tortured.

And all because of that bumper sticker. With everything that had happened to Harry since that cop stopped him, he certainly questioned that cop’s authority, but was powerless to do anything about it.

The end

Metal would like to thank Mister-X/Spartan for this story!

At Brutal Tops, vicious Master Killian fucks the living daylights out of this cringing sub before spunking into his worthless face!

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At Brutal Tops, Master Killian roughs up a captive:

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At Brutal Tops, Master James cruelly arouses and teases his prisoner before busting his balls and lashing the fuck out of him.

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At Brutal Tops, Master Aaron has a prisoner tied up on his knees with his head covered and ready to suck cock.

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Master Aaron cruelly controls with bondage, and he demands deep rimming from his captive!

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Skinhead scally Master Leo is an unrelentingly dangerous and cruel fucker! He furiously belts his cowering captive, demanding absolute subservience.

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Vicious skinhead Master Leo whips the fuck out of his sub, then shoves his hairy arsehole into his fag face and makes him gag on his big angry dick.

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By RotherhamMan

Don was left with eighteen hours on the bidding clock after the slave had been left for the six hours he thought long enough to reinforce his new rules. He no longer thought of the meat as Colin, that person was no longer of any significance and he would not be telling the buyers the name either. The only way they would know was if they went and found out for themselves, unlikely, or if the slave broke the rules and told them —something Don would be told about and he had a guarantee that if that ever happened with one of his products he would come out and punish them for tarring his reputation. It hadn’t happened yet.

Six hours had been a long time and despite having sat down to plan the slave’s training he was interrupted by the arrival of a friend who wanted to hang out. He hated people dropping in on him unplanned but he had a social life to maintain as part of his cover as a normal person. He had formed a comfortable social circle of people he found mildly interesting to be around and hung with them enough to appear normal, he might even enjoy himself some times. He felt quite the thrill of entertaining a guest while, unknown to them, he had a person kept in his basement against their will. He had a hard time hiding his rock solid erection and when it was noticed by the friend he played it off as having a day where he just felt horny. The friend laughed with him and departed, assuming Don was going to make a random hook-up to get off. Before he left he used Don’s toilet for a piss, not surprised by the novelty of a waterless toilet, having used it before. He would be surprised to learn it didn’t lead to the sewer but to a tank for the slaves to drink when being punished or trained for such things.

Once he was gone Don wasted no time in going back down to his lair and resuming his plans as if he hadn’t been interrupted. The guest, his sort-of-friend, had no idea of his other life. He dint even know he was gay. What a shock it would have been if Don had answered the door without changing into normal clothes but still in his leather uniform for dominating men. Sometimes he fantasised about taking the vanilla guys for a night or two and showing them a whole new world of pain and pleasure but unless he got a perfect opportunity it would stay a fantasy. It wasn’t often he introduced a man to that life and let them go, they usually came crawling back to him and then they were his.

Breaking a human being down into a slave was a fun but tricky business. If there was any routine to the pain and torment it could become bearable and predictable, even if there was a cycle to their new life it had to be kept varied enough to keep them on edge. Every torment had to be of a different variety, for a different amount of time, and at irregular intervals. This uncertainty would be a torment in itself. It was easy to hurt someone physically but he had to do it mentally too.

Fuck, he loved his job. He could break captives all day, every day, in different ways and mould them into whatever he wanted. The slave formerly known as Colin was a blank canvas, and he was an artist.

Back in his leathers, Don re-entered the chamber where the slave hung after six hours on top of the twelve hours before that. The slave had emptied his bladder again but seemed less upset about it. Far more pleasant than the stink was the smell of sweat, clear on his skin and soaked into his clothes. He looked at Don with red eyes, his face still with drying tears on it, and whimpered into the gag. Don shushed him and approached.

“I’m going to take this gag off. You do remember the rules about speaking?”

The prisoner nodded. Don took off the gag, not gently but not violently either. The captive gasped and worked his jaw but thankfully stayed silent.

“Are you going to obey?” Don asked.

The prisoner was a few moments in answering, wetting his dry mouth and working up the nerve to say the words. “Yes… Master…” The words were slow and hesitant but good enough for a first attempt.

He was making progress, time for another lesson. “Don’t expect praise for being obedient. Don’t even expect less pain. It is not your Master’s place to give you anything they do not want to. You will be given pain and punishment for being disobedient and maybe even if you are obedient. An obedient slave is generally in less pain, in both the long and short term. Better to commit yourself to obedience for better treatment.”

With the new lesson done, whether it was heeded or not, Don set about the next task. From his belt he pulled a strong and sharp pair of scissors. Sometimes he used a knife, usually on the more unruly captives, but this unwrapping video was about anticipation. Make the audience wait for it. He was about the show them the quality of the meat.

He started with the shirt, soaked in sweat and some tears. It fell away easily enough, and the captive’s upper body was on display now. It looked finer than Don remembered, when he had seen it when the prisoner was lying unconscious. Now it was upright, chest heaving in embarrassment and muscles taught with effort and covered in sweat. The chest wasn’t huge and the abs, thought visible, weren’t amazingly defined, but the shoulders and biceps were nicely thick. It was a fine upper body and with some hard labour under the sun he would firm up nicely. There was a light dusting of dark blond hair which Don was sure would be shaved off at some point, by him or the buyer. Slaves didn’t have hair on their bodies.

The prisoner stared forward and breathed heavily through his nose. His face was dry but only because he had no more tears left. Whether he had noticed the cameras discreetly set in the corners was unclear, if he had he might have realised he was on display to far more than just his captor. Across the world hundreds of men watched with hands on the cocks, waiting to see what Don would do with him.

He took off the shoes and socks next, they squelched with the piss and reeked something awful but Don kept up his poker face. He also undid and pulled lose the belt, letting it fall to the floor but thinking it would be fun to whip the captive with. He cut the jeans separately from the underwear, running the scissors up the outsides of both legs and letting them fall away revealing the legs.

Now the slave stood in just his underwear. When they had been put on they had no doubt been clean — or clean enough, some guys wore them for days before washing and he struck Don as a lad who just threw on whatever was clean enough — but now they were ruined. Still damp, the front was yellowing. Don cut them easily and removed them by hand to make sure the mess didn’t spill.

He stood back to take in the prisoner’s naked form, finally exposed for all the viewers to see for the first time. The uncut cock, flaccid and slightly shrivelled from cold and shame, was shining with the remaining piss and about five inches with the balls hanging almost as far, both shaved. He had noted that the ass, also with a fine layer of fur, was taught and cute enough to use as a pillow.

The captive still stared ahead, face red and breathing heavily, but he did shift slightly, as if instinctively trying to cover himself. He winced as his muscles, undoubtedly burning with the constant strain, moved and he held still again.

Don gathered up the clothes and took them away into the other room, he would be disposing of them but he kept the socks in an airtight bag (always fun to gag someone with their own sweaty, and in this case piss-stained, socks) along with the belt, and returned with a bottle of water and a protein bar. “I said you don’t get any praise for being obedient, but you do sometimes get rewarded.” He held up the food and water. “Do you want these?”

The prisoner stared at them. He had last eaten before arriving at Don’s almost twenty-four hours ago and had last drunk then too. “Yes… Master.” He added the last part hastily, forgetting for a moment.

Don stared him down, making his disapproval at the near mistake known. “Beg for them.” The captive opened his mouth for a moment to make a retort but stopped instantly. Don doubled the intensity of his stare. “I told you a could make you beg. When do you think you’ll be offered food again? Do you think it’ll be as good as this? Beg me for the food, while you still can get it this good, or go hungry for as long as I want you to before I offer something you won’t want to eat; like dog food.”

A moment passed. The captive clearly wanted the food and they both knew he would do what it took to eat but was putting this off for as long as he dared. Don actually wondered if he would do it; the dog food was always on standby but if he did have the strength of will to refuse that too he would have to resort to force-feeding.

“Please Master…” said the prisoner in a small voice. “I…”

“Speak up,” snapped Don.

“Please Master…” the captive began again, “Please, can I have the food.”

“That’s good enough.” Don uncapped the water and took hold of the prisoner’s hair, pulling his head back to pour the water into his mouth. The captive didn’t seem to have thought that he wouldn’t be unchained for his meal so he had to rely on his Master to pour the water down his throat at a slow speed so he could swallow. After he had taken half the bottle Don unwrapped the bar and broke off a piece.

“Open wide,” he said, holding at mouth level but too far to be reached.

The prisoner paused a moment, seemingly taking every opportunity to defy him, however small. Then his mouth opened and Don, slowly and gently, placed the piece of food in his mouth. He silently dared the captive to bite his fingers but the captive was smart enough not to bite the hand that fed him. He chewed the piece eagerly and when he swallowed he looked at his Master. The look on his eye meant it was time for another lesson.

Don broke off another piece and held it up. “Do you want another piece?”

He clearly hadn’t been expecting to beg for every bite but after a taste of food his apatite had been ignited. “Yes please, Master,” he said, no louder than he had to.

“You look like, just because I have given you a piece, that I am going to give you more. Like it is a given for you to assume and not my decision.”

It was time the captive knew just how dependant he was on his Master for survival and that he had to be grateful for everything he got and not to expect anything to be just handed to him. He looked down, submissively even if he didn’t realise it.

“I have given you food, the least you will do for your master is thank him for everything he gives you.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Good.” Don held up the piece of bar. “Open.”

The prisoner opened and let him place it in his mouth, chewed, then said you before begging for another piece from his Master. Don fed him the rest of the bar but on the last piece he spontaneously decided to step it up a notch. He took the last piece for himself when the captive asked for it, looking the captive in the eye when he did to see his disappointment. He kept the eye contact as he chewed it until it was mush. Then he tucked it into his cheek to speak, “You still want it?”

The look of shock on the captive’s face was priceless. The conflict played out beautifully as he weighed up how gross it was with how much he needed food. For a few tense seconds he was frozen. Then something changed in his face, the eyes went a little dimmer. “Please, Master, may I have it?”

Don grinned. He took hold of the prisoner’s hair again to tilt his head back, covered the chewed up bit of food with as much saliva as he could, and spat it into the prisoner’s open mouth. The prisoner jumped from the lump of food hitting his mouth and clearly showed his disgust for it but he also clearly chewed and swallowed it.

Don was pleased. His cock was rock hard and he wanted to cum real bad but knew it would get much better from here.

For the second half of the bottle Don expected him to tilt his head back on his own accord and only had to give him a look to make this known. The captive obeyed and got to drink the rest of the bottle, clearly wanting the taste of the man out of his mouth.

The prisoner had been good today and had over half a day ahead of him to show he could adapt to this new life. He would need to be strong for that and food and water wouldn’t be enough. Returning to his toy box Don brought back a set of five-way shackles that would chain his legs and hands together along with his neck. He fastened them on the legs first, making sure the cuffs were secure and they were hooked to the floor in the middle before releasing the legs one at a time. The prisoner could now get his legs under him for the first time and he winced, biting back a whimper as he brought his legs together and put his weight on them, his shoulders relived of their burden.

Don then fastened the collar before the wrists. He grinned at the captive, who still had a hint of defiance in him. Having a metal collar placed on you was a humiliation, and they both knew he would be releasing the hands next, this would be a tense moment.

“Remember,” he said, “I’m stronger than you, and you are weak right now. Even if you could fight me you can’t break the chains and the keys are in the other room where you can’t reach them. Just because I’m going to be releasing your hands doesn’t mean you can get away. Any resistance will be punished, you shouldn’t have to be told that to know.”

The captive knew but there was still a chance he might try something, even if it was just a punch that wouldn’t be worth it. One hand at a time was released and shackled and without incident the prisoner was free from his spread eagle position. He had let out a pathetic moaning whimper as his arms were lowered, even though Don did it gently. He sagged where he stood, not much strength left and all of it going to standing.

“When I leave I’ll be turning the lights off. Get some sleep, you’re going to need it and, like the food, who knows when you’ll get another chance.” He took the captive’s chin and brought his face up to his. “You’ve been good, but you still let me down on one thing.” A moment of panic and confusion played across his face. “You didn’t thank your Master for cleaning you up.”

Don pulled out a pair of nipple clamps joined by a chain. They were far from the worst he had but the prisoner clearly had no idea how lightly he was getting off. He made no protest as Don pinched his nipples and attached them. With his hands only shackled he would be able to take them off and must know it. If he was smart he would know better than to do so.

Don stepped back to admire the stud in front of him; hunched and swaying where he stood, covered in sweat and trembling. Don left him like that, shutting the door with a loud bang. He would give the kind six hours of darkness to sleep, how he spent it was up to him.

On the video feed he could see in infrared as the lights went out, plunging the catpive into darkness. He dropped to his knees, sobbing and his trembling hands went to his nipples as if to relieve the pain but was smart enough to think better off it. The feed was still live, audio as well, so everyone saw and heard his scream a few profanities at his captor. The forum went nuts, as if it hadn’t been before, commenting on how the captive was going to get it now from Don for mouthing off. Don had been right that people would want him; the bidding was now up to £25,000 for him with £10,000 for breeding sessions. Maybe the prisoner would have kids after all.

There were five serious bidders in the running, all regulars of Don’s and knew he provided quality stock. As it stood Don was looking at £35,000 for the prisoner and he was sure he could raise that with a decent show. The prisoner formerly known as Colin would have, unknown to him, eleven hours to prove his worth and Don would set the bar high, he would either break or…

Don snorted. Or nothing. The boy would break, it was what he did.

Metal would like to thank RotherhamMan for allowing this story to be shared here.  The version above has been edited slightly by Metal with the author’s permission.

To read many more stories by this author you can visit his story archives, located at Gay Spiral Stories and Archive of Our Own under the same author name.

You can also email the author at rthrhmmn@gmail.com.

All this loser is good for is being crushed under my boot. His dick gets locked in a chastity device. The brutal tops have COMPLETE CONTROL of his cock from now on!

Video at Brutal Tops

By UKDeviant on Recon

I was gagging heavily on Nate’s hard cock, and my gag reflex was kicking in. My wrists were held high between my shoulder blades in a leather shoulder-wrist combination restraint, which was securely padlocked at every buckle. My ankles were both strapped in leather restraints padlocked to a spreader bar, and I was utterly defenceless. My exposed chest and nipples arched before him and my caged cock and balls were displayed. He was perfectly relaxed, chilling sat on the end of his bed while making me do most of the work.

My head was being thrusted on and off his ramrod penis with the ring gag between my teeth protecting him from bites or scratches. Despite being blindfolded, It was clear he was well hung, of good girth, cut and had a PA ring – exactly as at the club. The leather straps either side of the ring gag were gripped tightly in his fists and being used by his strong arms to pull my head on and off his penis to ruthlessly skull fuck me. Saliva, bile and mucus were coming out of every orifice in my head, I had tears running down my cheeks, and my face was somewhere between red and purple.

I needed to earn release and desperately wanted to please him. This was a new level of use and abuse I had not experienced, and it was frightening, exhilarating, horny. I would do anything, including suffer, for my new Key Holder. I needed more training like this to overcome my gag reflex.

Nate was shouting that he was about to come and with my arms bound behind my back and my ankles secured in the spreader bar I was going nowhere, and would shortly be taking his full load, ready or not. This was the most intense sexual experience I had ever had, and I wanted his cum to be shot into my mouth and feel it dripping down my throat.

My left arm was starting to register pain, and I couldn’t work out why. There were a number of strange noises that didn’t fit with the scene – Meow. Meeeow. I slowly opened my eyes and the cat was there next to me pawing at my left arm. Meow. I blinked my eyes a few times and focused on the cat in the dim light. Meow.

The first rays of Sunrise were just visible through the window, and I was naked, in bed, still locked of course, and my dick throbbing away in the cage self lubricating in my pre-cum. My size 12 feet dangled over the end of the bed with the chain from the ankle cuffs hanging down between them. Even if I weren’t locked, the moment was completely lost. My first dream orgasm ruined, by the cat.

Meow. The wakeup call was to remind me that it was feeding time in an hour. I glared at the cat, who, having made sure I was aware she was there, and awake, curled up and went back to sleep. Just one more minute… Why couldn’t you have given me just one more minute to allow Nate to climax? I wanted to pleasure him, even if in a dream. My dick was still throbbing and twitching away in the cage, but I knew it was pointless, the moment had gone.

Between the cat and the dog, I’m not sure who it is in my household who is top of the tree, but I’m certain it isn’t me. I’m pretty sure, too, that the cat and James both have me in the same position in their hierarchy as their slave to instruct as they wish. The cat based on my daily servitude to her, and James by his control over me.

I pulled the duvet up and drew the now fast asleep cat next to me, cuddling close to her and reflected on the events of the past few days.

It is exciting to know that the keys to the belt were just inches away from me. I just needed now to earn access to the lock box, but just what were these new rules going to be? I had nothing to bargain or counter offer with, having sent Nate the keys to his device. The penalty for contacting him without permission was clear. I have to say that at the club I fancied the pants off of him and if this progressed to something more than a simple (or not so simple) purchase of a chastity belt then that would be a great result. He certainly seemed intent to have some fun and I was very content with that. Right now, though, the instruction to await his further contact or be punished had resulted in utter compliance. I was being trained to obey him, that was clear.

At this point, though, there were no rules or limits in place. The agreement to meet up a week ago had been ruined by Covid, and with the lockbox Nate had the upper hand. He had also had plenty of time to review my RECON profile, so I now expected all of this to be used against me.

Be careful what you wish for. I have read it so many times on websites like Eckie and Metalbond.

Twitch. Normally about now I would be edging myself for a good 30 to 45 minutes and getting endorphins, testosterone and whatever else into my blood stream pumping around me. I was just plain horny and desperate for release. That I couldn’t, and had a keyholder in control, made me even more horny. That was a cool thing – I now had a keyholder. I was owned property. I liked that, a lot.

TWITCH, TWITCH, TWITCH!

I just needed now to wait for Nate to contact me and discuss what the new rules were. I didn’t expect there would be much debate as I wasn’t in a great negotiating position. Right now, though, I had to wait for the next step until he was good and ready. My phone pinged the RECON alert. Franticly I opened it.

It was a Recon Sponsored Message for a remote operated plug. Thanks Sandy and the team… Not what I wanted although there is one member of the Recon team I would like a personal message from…

So, I got up and showered. The cat followed me into the bathroom, checking out my progress as I washed and shaved. Back in my bedroom I towelled off and pulled on a pair of second-hand Nike compression shorts and used TN’s from eBay. There is something very horny about only buying used clothing. It’s not only that a sub guy isn’t good enough for new, but more that there is an unknown mystery about the past owner. They would be some hunky testosterone oozing spunk monkey of a super-hero bloke that you would track around the bar or club and never feel worthy of approaching. Military, Chav, Nike, Adidas all do it for me.

I went downstairs and tried to hit the kettle to get this boiling for a coffee before the cat demanded food. I put the phone on the side and while reaching across for the kettle, the screen showed another Recon alert. Thanks, Sandy and the team. Another advert?

I opened it and this one stopped me dead in my tracks again. It was from NateSussex, and the message was ‘List all of your kink equipment now. Do NOT miss anything out. I will find out and if you do there will be severe punishment. You have 5 minutes to acknowledge or there is a penalty. If there is no complete list in 15 minutes there is a second penalty – Go! The time now is 07:25’

Fuck. This arrived while I was in the shower!

Meow…

Bugger off!

The kettle was hissing as it was low on water.

That can bugger off too!!!

I raced upstairs and shut the door. Eyes bulging, it was well on the way to 08:00!!!

I had been set my first task and was already late! Even thought not in person there was now a protocol that meant I was expected to, and had no option other than to, be fully alert to RECON messages and to make myself permanently available to reply on demand! I was being trained to be available immediately and to make sure I was alert to any demand. I would need to increase the volume on the alerts…

Fuck!

My world had changed. Just three weeks ago I was a key individual in a business where I was the decision maker. People responded to me immediately. Now, furloughed, in a steel belt, the keys not in my control, and even the cat owning me my hierarchy had shifted to the polar opposite of last week. This was nuts…

Something in me was calm though. Being the ‘go to’ person or the individual who solves all of the problems at work is a hell of a mental drain. The last two weeks outside of work with no responsibility, reassessing what was important in life to me and identifying the positives then making the best of them was so very calming. My constant state of arousal was thrilling and my dick throbbed away again.

I was late replying to Nate’s text. There would be punishment it seems and I couldn’t change that. Picking up the phone I messaged back ‘Sir, thank you for the message, and I have just got out of the shower and will list the equipment now, Sir.’

I hoped that the note about the shower might buy me some reasonable acceptance as to the delay and didn’t want to acknowledge being late.

Ping – ‘You are late Slave. Get on with the list now and don’t think about missing anything’

Bollocks. That didn’t work.

Twitch Throb Twitch…

‘Yes, Sir, On it now, Sir’.

The cat was clawing at the door. Sorry, mate you’ll have to wait.

So, the list began…

• Steel cage 6’6” x 2’ x 1.5’, lockable
• Steel pillory as made by fetters
• A ‘My Steel’ Chastity belt
• 5 point irons – Hiatt style locks
• Ankle cuffs – 3 different types
• Hand cuffs – 3 different types
• Latex rear zip catsuit
• Latex shorts
• Bluetooth Masterlock padlock
• Bluetooth Masterlock Keylock as the one you sent me
• HT and Steel CB x 3 one of which is urethral
• 3 plugs – steel, silicone
• Leather locking wrist, ankle restraints
• Animal cuff
• 4 timer padlocks
• 2 leather hoods
• For the rest it was easier to do a photograph…

Clicking on ‘Send’ I suddenly felt fully exposed. It was one thing going to a SBN event. Another with a CB locked on. The only thing worse than letting a stranger know your complete list of deviant items would be posting an article listing them on Metalbond or some other site. At the same time, though, there was something very liberating about being open about what I am – and the hope that Nate would progress from eBay seller to Key Holder to something else.

I didn’t feel concerned either, COVID had helped me restructure work priorities and I felt a change of employment was now due. I was delighted with the home improvements that I had made which had been bugging me to date. There were other business opportunities I was following up. I was much happier being me. 2020 was clearly a crap year for a number of people but I had at least the makings of some positive changes and I would be carry…

Ping… My Recon alert went and my wandering thoughts were immediately brought back to my predicament and my controller – … Sir? Master? I didn’t know what to call Nate… I’d stick with ‘Sir’ for now.

I opened the RECON message…

NateSussex – ‘Give me control of your Bluetooth padlock and keylock details now. Currently you have a further 1-week penalty for the late reply. What make are the timer padlocks? What is an animal cuff? You have 3 minutes’

Fuck. Panic!

‘Sir, the animal cuff is a Hiatt key locking device that goes around the balls and locks in place. There is a steel eye welded to it that you can use to lock to a chain to secure a sub / slave – but only works when not in chastity’. – Send. Phew! At least I have something off well within the timescale and I am responding immediately!

‘Sir, please find here a link to the timer padlocks’ – essentially the product is a battery-powered unit with a wire rope and locking pin that releases when you set the timer display. It is irreversible and runs to 99 hours. They cost £15 so that is cost of early release if there is an emergency. I send the link to the last time I purchased one on eBay.

The Bluetooth padlock and Masterlock keylock was harder. I have the app and the locks have a serial number. I knew all I had to do was to get these details over – but all of this within three minutes? I was doomed to failure but I would do the best I could to comply.

After getting the lock ID and authorisation codes from my ‘filing system’ it was 7 minutes.

Meowwwwww….

I was late for both of my owners. Hopefully the dog would understand. But I wasn’t optimistic.

There was no reply or acknowledgement from Nate, and I was clear from the rules that if I initiated a message there would be further punishment, so I kept silent. And hoped.

I fed the cat then the dog and then made my coffee. I had given Nate what he asked for. The cat and dog were happy, and I was sitting in the lounge with my now cold coffee and my steel belt glimmering above my compression shorts and used TN’s.

So, where do I stand with any of them? Clearly that isn’t something important for me to know.

TWITCH.

The dog came and stared at me with its sad eyes asking for a walk. I was its slave too.

So, I go upstairs and find a nice hoodie that will hide the chain collar and cover the steel band from the belt. Reflecting in the mirror I like the Nike TNs and compression shorts. I can’t help but strap on a set of leather ankle restraints and secure these with padlocks. The trackies I next put on will cover them. I’m ready for my walk.

Passing through the woodland I again opened Nate’s Recon profile and re-read the details. 70% active, 6’2, average build (he has a better build than that) and the keywords were Master and Slave, Leather, Chastity, Boots, Bondage. The profile pictures were genuine and ‘Safe For Work’ showing the ‘Boy Next Door’ look. The main text was brief and invited messages. Unsurprisingly he had been cruised 90 times in the last 30 days. My caged dick again throbbed away at being controlled by this guy.

Given the reams of text on my profile Nate had the upper hand here too – knowledge is power and there was a lot to be used against me if you had control over me…

Mu phone pinged and I am fully alert to the importance of immediately responding. After all, in the last few days I have already earned at least 3 weeks of penalty, and possibly more. Effective training…

It is Nate. My heart beats faster with excitement and I read the message…

“What are you doing for the next four weeks?”

I reply that I am on Furlough and doing work in the garden and keeping myself busy.

“Do you want to play a new game – If not, I will give you access to the lockbox now, we can settle up on the £40 and that will be ok. If you do wish to then reply saying ‘Yes, Sir’ and I will set out the rules in the next message. Time to decide Slave.”

I had to say yes or no now and did not know what the rules would be. As you read this you will know what my head was thinking and what my throbbing dick was telling me I should do. Sticky pre-cum was dripping down my thigh despite the tight fabric of the compression shorts. I could be free today after 3 weeks locked, or I could be locked for what looked like a further 3 weeks with no clarity on when release might occur.

I typed my reply into the phone and hovered my finger over the send button.

Feeling like a weight had fallen from my shoulders, I looked around for the dog – he had carried on with the walk without me, so I jogged on to catch up. This just ended up with the ring from the cage at the base of my shaft rubbing side and exciting parts of my penis I had not been able to reach, and would not for another 3 weeks.

Ping… Recon message from Nate

“You have accepted the challenge, good Boy. This will last 3 weeks during which period you need to earn release. This will be by carrying out certain tasks or dares to earn points. During this period, you need to earn 10,000 points.

• Bluetooth padlock and chain collar = 10 points per hour
• Ankle cuffs locked on with timer locks = 10 points per hour
• Latex suit with timer lock = 20 points per hour minimum timer 5 hours
• Plugged = 10 points per hour
• Time outdoors naked = 50 points per hour
• Night in the cage = 100 points
• 5 point irons at night = 100 points

Dares (maximum one per day):

• Supermarket visit with a gag under the face mask = 500 points
• Naked in the middle of a field = 500 points
• You are to propose other dares which I will award points for, up to 1,000 for each one.

Every day there is a ‘management charge’ of 200 points for my time added to your total.

Proof is required – photographs of the timer locks activated will do. Collar and chain will be the Bluetooth masterlock. Keyed items will be controlled in your masterlock keylock. The time durations when I am asked to open and close these devices will be the time awarded. Items that do not lock will be subject to random demands for proof pics.

Failure to provide a proof pic within 15 minutes of demand is a 250 point penalty.

Dares are worth up to 1,000 points but the amount awarded will be based on the risk and the amount of evidence you provide.

I will not be disclosing the number of points you have earned and you are not allowed to ask how many points you have left to earn.

When you think you have enough you will message that you think you have completed the challenge. If you have, I will release the lock box. If you haven’t then you will have a 2-week penalty for failing, then be released. If you do not achieve the task before the end of the three weeks there is a 2-week penalty.

I reserve the right to change the points awarded for items at any time. You may propose activities that earn points too.

This challenge starts NOW and as I am also on furlough I have plenty of time to administer it. You may now contact me when you wish – just make sure it is respectful Slave.”

This was a long message and had been typed out ready to go. I realised I had again come to a stop and needed to find the dog, so jogged on again. He knew the route and would be somewhere ahead.

My dick was throbbing away and the rules were going to take a little figuring out. It was going to be a fun game and on this occasion my dick had made the right call. I started to come to some conclusions about the rules:

I could be free in less than 3 weeks if I earned the right number of points

If I had not earned enough then there was a two week penalty – so my best case was to declare it now and have a 2 week penalty, or run the whole 3 weeks and have a 2 week penalty at the end. With the three weeks I have had so far this would be a maximum lock up of 8 weeks.

I could knock up an excel spreadsheet showing the daily points earned – the ‘Management charge’ over the 21 days was an additional 4,200 points so the sooner I completed, the fewer points I needed to earn.

A chain collar locked on 24/7 was worth 240 points a day – that cleared the ‘management charge…’ Ankle cuffs 24/7 and some time plugged would clear 300 or so points. With a dare at 500 and a few others this was achievable and in less than the three weeks – two would be a good target.

I realised I was wearing a locked collar and also ankle cuffs so quickly took photographs and sent a message – “Thank you Sir for the challenge, I accept and am looking forward to it. Am collared and have ankle cuffs locked on already Sir, proof pic attached”.

I was looking forward to constructing the spreadsheet and working out a plan to try to make a bid for freedom in 2 weeks. Spotting the dog ahead I carried on jogging and knew I would be home in 5 minutes.

Ping… “Collar lock is not Bluetooth, ankle cuffs are not timer locks. 100 point penalty for each. Follow the rules. Nate x”

My dick throbbed away as again I realised that I was being trained to comply to every detail. The last £40 for the keys was going to have a different cost in points – I was going to pay the price now!

UKDeviant on Recon

In part 4 Sam needs to make sure that he gets the easy points but also needs to put forward some dares – this is very much based on real life but are there any dares that you would like to put to Sam?

To be continued …

In a video at Brutal Tops, the room is filled with the absolute stink of a bound captive’s hairy, muscular sweaty arse.

See the video at Brutal Tops

In the barracks they keep this feisty bitch strapped down and ready to service cocks. The sniveling captive should be grateful to go down on Master Aaron’s giant dick but needs to be taught some fucking manners. The captive pathetically gags on Aaron’s length! All this filthy slave is good for is being fucked into oblivion and turned into a dirty cum dump.

See the video at Brutal Tops

By BondageChallengeGames

Leave your freedom at the door

“When you arrive strip and put on the gear I have left for you. Save the blindfold for last. Once you have the blindfold on, say loudly ‘I’m ready sir.’”

Sir Nguyen, or Jon Nguyen as he’d introduced himself to me in our ‘intro to geology’ throwaway class back in college, had a very one-track mind when it came to kink. Sir Nguyen was obsessed with inescapable bondage, and when it was time to play a scene that was the only thing he was obsessed with. When he got you locked up he didn’t care much for fucking you, or hurting you, or pushing you to the limit, or humiliating you, or letting you cum, he just wanted you immobile and with no hope of escape. The only thing Sir Nguyen would do once he got you restrained was use an electro violet wand on you, not for pleasure or pain, but to make you jump and test your restraints. Once he was sure you couldn’t escape, he would simply leave you restrained until he decided to tie you up a different way.

This wasn’t to say Jon didn’t like sex. We’d sucked each-other off and fucked plenty of times back in college, probably more often than we’d do a bondage scene. Jon Nguyen was a great partner: caring, fun, able to not take himself too seriously, and always eager to reciprocate. Sir Nguyen was a completely different person.

And Sir Nguyen, not Jon, was the one I that would meet me at the door.

I drove for the better part of the day through Iowa. The incredibly flat and monotonous scenes on either side of “scenic” interstate 35 dragging on as I impatiently drove to the house that would be my prison for a night. Finally pulling off the interstate I drove down a series of off-roads until I reached Jon’s house. It was surrounded by fields, flanked by a few trees that were the only ones on the whole farm. A one story house with a basement stood at the end of a gravel drive way, with a work-shed nearby.

I got out of my car, texted Riley to let him know I made it (complete with a picture of myself for verification) and walked up to Jon’s door. With no neighbors for at least half a mile in any direction, I didn’t even bother to hide my hard-on making a tent in my gym shorts.

I opened the door, unlocked as always when I came over for one of these scenes. As commanded, I stripped, which went quickly as I’d been in gym shorts and an undershirt for the ride over. On a counter nearby Sir Nguyen had sat iron fetters, a pair of high-security Irish-style handcuffs, and a blindfold. I locked the fetters on to each of my ankles and then picked up the handcuffs. I put my hands out in front of me and after a little bit of maneuvering, managed to lock my hands in them. The way the brought my hands rigidly close to each other made bending my elbows and holding my hands up to my face the most comfortable option, but I forced my arms down to pick up (with some difficulty) the blindfold –a wide sleep mask – and put it on my face. Once I was done, I turned to face where I thought the door was and said…

“I’m ready sir.”

***

Nothing. Silence. My first thought was that I hadn’t said it loud enough. Of course, I didn’t want to say it again, that would be impatient. Plus it was a small house and I practically yelled it.

My next thought was that something went wrong, What if Jon had forgot I was coming, or lost track of time, what if something terrible happened to him and I was stuck here, with no way out and no way to contact anyone! Sure Riley knew where I was, and had said he’d send help if he didn’t hear from me tomorrow, but 24 hours!? Alone!? So much could go wrong.

Before I could sink too far into the rabbit hole I heard Sir Nguyen walk up behind me. He grabbed my arms right below my shoulders and spun me around to face him.

“Walk.”

He started to walk through the house, grabbing on to my left wrist and guiding me behind him. He walked quickly, and I struggled to keep up, the fetters’ short chain restricting my movement. He walked me through his house, turning corners until he finally stopped, pulled on my arms and said,

“Stop.”

I felt a cold leather strap wrap around my mid-section, as he tightened it behind me I was pulled back until I stood flush against a cold metal pole. I felt a sharp shock on my ass and I instinctively yelped and tried to pull away, but was stopped by the belt that strapped me to the pole.

“Good. Stay.”

I heard him walk away. I decided to try to escape; not out of fear, but out of pride… and for the chance to jump him and make him my prisoner. I tried to bend my arms around so I could unhook the leather belt strap. The angles my wrists were at made moving my arms downward hurt, and I quickly found I couldn’t get enough range of movement to reach the buckle even if did force my arms to that level. I tried to wiggle my hips so the strap would fall down, but wasn’t able to get it loose before I heard Sir Nguyen return.

Sir pulled on the chain of my fetters, drawing my ankles in until they were touching. Then he locked both of the cuffs directly to one another, turning the fetters into leg cuffs that wouldn’t allow me to move them at all. I was immediately thrown off balance, but the leather strap around my waist kept me upright against the pole.

Next Sir unlocked the handcuffs. Before I could even think about pulling away, he grabbed my wrists and pulled them behind my back. Using a normal set of handcuffs with a chain in-between, he re-cuffed my hands behind my back, on the other side of the pole. Securing me in two places to the cold post.

I felt another sharp shock, this time to my stomach right above my crotch. I thrashed around and starting shouting out in pain. I tried showing Sir that I couldn’t break free so he’d stop, but he kept shocking me.

“Ow, ow, fuck, oh shit,” I flexed my arms and legs but the metal was unforgiving, I tried to move around on the pole but Sir Nguyen didn’t let up “please… Im trapped –oh fuck- aghhhh! I- can’t move, I promise sir- please stop-“

Sir Nguyen didn’t stop, not until I actually started trying to break free, actually trying to get out of my metal bindings. Only when he was absolutely sure I had struggled as much as I possibly could did he stop.

Then he left. I heard him walk away, followed but the sound of a door closing. I figured I must be in a closet. Knowing Sir, I’d be in here for a while. Standing for an hour or more sounded like torture in itself, so I decided to try and sit down against the pole. Thankfully with my leg cuffs not connected the post I figured I could kick my legs out and slide down until I was sitting. Slowly I wiggled my way down. My handcuffed hands slid no problem, but the leather belt took a while. It was tight against my waist, and while I couldn’t get it to fall down (especially not with my hard dick in the way) I did manage to get it to slide with my body until I was sitting on the floor of Jon’s closet.

And there I sat, my hands cuffed to the pole behind me, my legs tightly locked in front of me, and a thick leather belt strapping my waist securely to the post.

Even for someone who regularly gets tied up, I rarely feel the true long-term boredom of bondage the same way as when I’m Sir Nguyen’s prisoner. Other friends will keep me tied up for a long time, sure, but they’re usually doing something to me. Fucking me or fucking with me or something. With Sir Nguyen though I just sit here, the minutes dragging on and on until time means nothing.

Eventually Sir came back. I heard the door open and feel a cool breeze blow in.

“Up.”

I wiggle my way until I am standing up. Sir Nguyen unlocks my ankle cuffs from each-other, leaving the chain in-between them so they are once again fetters. He unlocks one of my wrists, but immediately grabs it tight. He re-locks wrist, this time so that the handcuffs are no-longer on the other side of the post and no longer keeping me pinned to it. He releases the leather belt strap, and I immediately run forward, trying to escape. I can barely move my feet forward, and he quickly grabs the chain between my wrist cuffs, pulling me back towards him. He gives me a long sustained shock on the ass, until I yell out and start to bend backwards.

He stops, and I stand up straight, breathing heavy. He starts to push me forward, holding my handcuffs tight so I can’t escape. From behind he leads me forward, still blindfolded. He leads me through his house, until I feel a cool breeze against my naked skin. Sir Nguyen takes my blindfold off, and after my eyes adjust I see I’m standing in front of his open back door.

Now able to see, Sir Nguyen leads me down the stairs outside his back door and across his backyard to his shed. I look around, thankful that no one is anywhere near enough to see me chained up and naked, and walk obediently toward the shed.

When we get to the door of the windowless building, Sir turns me around, still careful to hold my handcuffs, and opens the door to let us in. He drags me inside to the middle of the room, where a large chain hangs from the ceiling. On the end of the chain theirs an unlocked padlock, which he uses to lock the chain of my handcuffs to the vertical hanging chain. Then, Sir Nguyen pulls on a nearby chain, and my arms are lifted upward. With my hands cuffed behind my back this forces me to bend forward into a painful strappado position.

I know Jon well enough that this is a temporary position while he sets something up, but I take no solace in the fact that I don’t know how long his next surprise will take to set up.

From where I stood I looked around the shed. It had all the tools, half-finished projects, and hardware of a normal shed, but with a few restraint devices added in. I saw the x-cross that Jon had made a few years back, the heavy duty bondage chair, and the gibbet cage, all of which I’d spent plenty of time restrained by. I didn’t see the sturdy cage I knew sir had, which I assumed that meant I’d see it later.

Sir Nguyen had dragged a large flat 8×8 wooden board close to me, and laid it down on the ground. I saw him walk over and grab four steel pipe clamps, some screws, a Philips-head drill bit, and drill. He sat his tools down beside the wood board, and pulled a nearby chain in such a way that I felt the chain pulling my arms backward get some much welcome slack. He continued to lower the chain, until all the tension had left my arms, and in fact there was plenty extra chain to where I could even move around a little bit.

“Thank you S-“

“Sit down” Sir Nguyen cut me off.

With the extra length of chain I was able to sit down on the ground.

“On the board” he said. I quickly corrected, scooting over until I sat crisscrossed on the board, still handcuffed and locked to a chain that tethered me to the center of the room.

“Legs out.”

I stretched my legs out until they were almost at the end of the board. Sir went over and unlocked the fetters, and taking one ankle in his hand, led it to where he wanted it on the board. He took the pipe clamp –this rigid metal band with two holes on the end and a curve in the center – and put it so it pinned my ankle to the board. Then with his drill and two screws, he screwed the pipe clamp to the board, pinning my ankle between the rough wood and the cold steel. Then, taking my other ankle, he did the same, spreading it so my legs were shoulder length apart.

He walked behind me, and unlocked my wrists from my handcuffs. While my hands were free, there was no use in fighting, my legs were fastened to the wood, and nothing short of him unscrewing them would release me. I was permanently fixed to this plank until Sir decided to let me free. I sat there, legs outstretched, and obediently laid down when he commanded me. The wood was not painful, it seemed like Jon had at least done one pass sanding it, but it definitely wasn’t comfortable.

As I laid down, Sir moved my wrists so they were down by my stomach in a very relaxed and sustainable position. Then, starting with my right wrist and finishing with my left, he fastened me to the board with two more pipe clamps, which he ran over my wrists and screwed the ends into the wood. I was trapped, totally locked to the board on the ground, with no hope of escape.

But Sir Nguyen wasn’t done with me yet.

First he zapped my feet with the electric wand. I thrashed and tried to slip out, but not only was the metal impossible to break out of, but struggling against it hurt. I saw Sir smile and stop zapping me, which I thought would mean he was satisfied with how he’d restrained me, but was unfortunately not correct. He walked over, switched out the drill bit for a large hold-driving one.

Honestly, I started to panic a little. Here I was, naked and fastened to a board in a man’s windowless shed, with no one around to hear me scream, as the man who restrained me stood over me with a power tool and the full ability to torture me in whatever way he wanted if he so chose.

He brought the drill down close to me, and I started hyperventilating, really pulling and fighting against my immovable bonds.

“Hey Derek,” Jon said, breaking his dominant façade for a moment, “don’t worry man.”

I took a few deep breaths and gave a little smile.

Sir Nguyen started drilling ½ inch diameter holes around my sprawled out body. Making holes on either side of my stretched out arms and legs, and beside me at the level of my stomach and chest. It took a few minutes, and with the amount of effort he was putting into this particular setup, I assumed whatever he had in store would be how I would spend most of the rest of the day. Once he was done drilling the holes, he stood up, walked over to some shelves and returned with two cinder blocks and a large amount of rope.

Sir Nguyen lifted the board I was fixed to up on the side closest to my head, and slid a cinder block underneath it. He then walked around to edge of the board closest to my feet, lifted that up and slid the other cinder block underneath it. The board was lifted about 6 inches off the ground, and while my body weight did make it bend down a bit in the middle, it supported my weight enough that there was space between the board and the ground. From here, Sir started to weave the rope in one hole and out the other. He ran the rope up through the hole to the right of one arm, over my arm, and then down through the hole on the other side; he pulled it taught and it pinned that section of my arm to the board. He then repeated that, multiple times every few inches down each arm and leg, as well as running rope across my chest, stomach, and belt line.

When he was finished, and he pulled the rope taught at each point and tied it off. With the rope pinning every limb and length of my body to the board at multiple points, I was truly immobilized; the screwed in metal clamps ensured I couldn’t escape, but this form-fitting body cage of rope ensured I couldn’t move in any way.

Sir shocked me with electricity, but for only a few seconds, as it was abundantly clear the only thing I could do in this position was strain and curl my toes. Satisfied with his work, Sir removed the cinder blocks and lowered the board back to the ground, took a picture of me, and left the shed.

There I was left, alone, bolted and roped to an unforgiving wooden board. I couldn’t move beyond a few futile twitches.

Having been restrained by Jon before, I knew that I wasn’t completely alone. Somewhere in the shed he had a camera and mic hidden so he could see and hear me. If I was ever in danger I could shout out and he’d come rescue me. I may be his captive, but I’m still his friend. Also I can’t imagine a dead person would be as fun to tie up.

My board was a very uncomfortable surface to lay on, but thankfully the way Sir had bound me didn’t put any strain on my muscles. I lay there in that dim shed for a while, unable to do anything but breathe and think. My dick having been hard for most of the day and yet so deprived of any stimulation at all, eventually started to soften, even though my mind was still desperately in need of a release I had no way of giving it in this position.

Eventually I must have fallen asleep, because I was woken up by a sudden blast of cold water. Pointing a garden hose through the open door of the shed, Sir Nguyen sprayed my body and the board with cold water, focusing on my face and dick. I tensed and fought in vain to get away from the painfully chilly water, but my bondage kept me pinned and unable to do anything by shiver and take it. Eventually Sir stopped spraying me, and stood there for a minute, letting me lay in the cold puddle – the wet ropes now uncomfortably tense against my skin.

Sir took a few more pictures of me, before coming inside the shed. For the next little bit he worked on something at a table in the side of the shed, during which time my body never truly warmed up. Eventually though, he stood up and walked over to me.

It took him a pretty long time to release me from the board. Sir methodically unwrapped the ropes and then unscrewed the hooks binding my wrists. He left my ankles fastened to the board long enough to handcuff my hands behind my back.

“I’m going to let you go to the bathroom.” He said, while unscrewing the final bolts pinning me to the board. “Then I’m putting you in the cage for the night. If you obey me and don’t try to escape when we head inside, I’ll give you food tonight.”

“Yes sir,” I said, “thank you sir.”

He unscrewed the last screw and I stood up. I stretched out as much as I could with my hands cuffed behind my back. I followed Sir Nguyen out of the shed and into his house. By now it was dark outside, and the noise of crickets filled the warm and humid summer air. Sir led me to the bathroom, and closed the door, waiting outside for me to be done. With my hands cuffed behind me I had to piss sitting down.

As I sat there I thought about escaping. This was the closest I’d been to freedom since I got here, maybe I could break out. Since our first time doing bondage together, Jon had told me that if I ever escaped his restraints and managed to get him locked up before a scene was over, I could do whatever I wanted to do to him. One time I had gotten free, pinned him down, handcuffed him with his own cuffs, and spent the rest of the night tormenting and fucking him. Since then I’d never gotten the chance again. It would be nice…

Alas, even as close to freedom as I was, the handcuffs were locked. Try as I might I probably couldn’t break free, and even if I did get free Jon was roughly the same size as me, and probably about as strong, so there was no guarantee I’d be able to capture him. It was too dangerous a gamble to risk going hungry for the night on. So I stood up, awkwardly flushed the toilet, and attempted to wash my hands – though the cuffs made it just about impossible. I kicked the door to signal I was done, and after he opened it I followed him into his bedroom, where he’d set up the strong metal cage I knew so well.

He opened the door to the cage and I obediently crawled inside. Sir locked the cage, sealing me in with a sturdy padlock. He bent down and asked me for my hands, and I shuffled around to stick my cuffed hands through the bars. Sir Nguyen was kind enough to unlock my handcuffs, leaving me naked and unbound for the night, yet still helplessly contained by the unyielding metal cage. Sir left the room for a moment and returned with some packaged breakfast bars, a banana, and a ziplock bag of trail mix, which he slid through the cage.

Sir Nguyen watched me scarf down my dinner, and then left, presumably to go shower and get ready for bed. While he was gone I tried to get comfortable in the cage. I curled up into a ball and rested one arm behind my head. My dick had gotten hard again as I moved around in the cramped and sturdy cage, locked up like a dangerous animal. With my hands free I jacked myself off, finally giving myself the release I’d been craving for an unknowable amount of hours. I shot my built up load, and panted in the cage, my muscles relaxing as a wave of relief fell over me.

Sir returned, hopped in bed, turned off the lights, and pretty quickly fell asleep. It took me a while, but eventually I drifted off. I woke up a couple times in the night, once hitting my head on the roof of the cage when I tried to sit up, but both times I got back to sleep.

Jon woke me up in the morning, unlocking the cage and helping me out.

“So,” Jon said, no longer playing the dominant ‘Sir Nguyen’ role, “how was it! Did you have a good time?”

“Oh yes!” I smiled and stretched out, “I had a great time dude, as always that was incredible!”

Jon smiled. I put on my underwear and we ate breakfast both half-dressed. We chatted for a while. He caught me up on his life, and I told him about mine. He asked me about my road trip and new home in Atlanta. To thank him for his hospitality I gave him a blowjob after breakfast. After that we cuddled for a bit and talked for another 15-20 minutes

My goal was to leave by 9am, to make sure I got to my friends in the Twin Cities before it got too late. I missed that by a little bit, but it was worth it, and by the time I waved goodbye and drove away at 9:45 I left feeling very good about my night and morning with Jon.

I drove north, for the biggest detour of my roadtrip, heading toward my next stop with Brian and Jordan. Unlike the past two days, where I knew what sort of fate awaited me at Riley and Jon’s, anything could happen with Brian and Jordan. In fact, if I played my cards right I might not even be the one getting tied up. After my past two nights spent as someone’s prisoner, being the dom for a change did sound like a pretty good deal. Of course, anything could happen, and I drove on, excited for what was to come.

To be continued …

By Wakeysub

Solidly mounted and impaled with my mouth open I was desperate to just swallow but that wasn’t an option. I had been transformed into a sex toy existing solely for the pleasure of the top. Here I was in total darkness waiting for my mouth to be used. Reduced to being a fleshlight with a pulse.

“Fuck, I’ve got to break this one in.”

I felt movement at my lips. The first cock just drove into me with a single thrust. My head positioning meant that the cock had a straight run to deep in my gullet. My gag reflex triggered but I had no room to react. My body convulsed as he continued to thrust. I could hear the moaning sounds he made as my throat closed around his cock. He pulled his cock right out of my mouth and I gasped for breath. He plunged back in with a single hard thrust. I couldn’t breathe. He started pumping his cock buried deep in my throat. I started to feel lightheaded. He pushed his cock deeper and deeper in my throat. My lungs were hurting as they were desperate for air. Every reflex in my body said I had to take a breath but there was nothing I could do. The shield was spreading my jaw firmly to maximise his access. All I could do was focus on the cock down my throat. As his fucking intensified my head became foggier. Suddenly, the shaft throbbed in my throat unloading his load deep into my throat. He started to pull out leaving a trail of cum as he pulled out of my mouth. As soon as my throat was unblocked air rushed back in and my lungs gasped for air.

“Clean it”

I instinctively moved my tongue over his deflating cock head. Licking carefully at the piss slit, licking away the remains of his load and the acidic juices which had erupted from my stomach in reaction to the invasion. As I licked, I could hear his satisfied purring.

“Good job – time for your reward”

I felt the probe in my ass suddenly come to life. The power level was ramping up slowly and progressively. My cock reacted by getting harder and harder driving the head into the unyielding pins. The intensity of the probe was getting to a level where it was more uncomfortable than pleasurable. I moaned and my collar started to tingle menacingly. My cock was rock hard. Still the stimulation continued. The stimulation of my prostate seemed to spread out through my body. Then nothing. My body was aching for more stimulation.

The next cock was a monster. Even with my jaw spread wide open the shaft grazed against the smooth metal shields covering my teeth. He seemed to like the way it felt as he pumped his cock a few times without pushing deep inside. This was truly a gigantic piece of meat. He might be able to get it past my teeth but there was no way this was ever going to fit into my throat. Then again, there was nothing to stop him from reshaping my throat to make it fit. He lunged forwards and instantly my gag reflex was triggered. He didn’t care. If anything, the regurgitated fluids just added to the lubrication inside my throat. He leant into me, putting all his body weight behind pushing it into my throat. I couldn’t breathe. This massive throbbing dick was going to kill me. I felt it slowly push deeper as my muscles started to lose the battle. He was intent on just driving it deeper and deeper. My head became fuzzy again. I was seriously short of oxygen. My throat was plugged and there was no prospect of him pulling out anytime soon. He just pressed harder and harder. He hadn’t even got his cock inside yet and I was already on the verge of passing out. How could I survive this? He pulled out and I quickly gasped for breath. He rammed back in and started pushing steadily again. I hated to imagine what damage it was doing to my throat. It was a blessing that I wouldn’t have to speak again for the foreseeable future because of all the bruising he was creating. He pushed on. My muscles were giving way in the face of this onslaught.

He just kept pushing and I felt him slide slowly deeper and deeper. When he buried another inch he would pull back and ram back in maximising the damage he had already done. His technique was brutal but he knew what he was doing. He systematically buried his massive cock until he had driven it in to the hilt. Finally, he managed to lodge the full length of his massive cock deep inside me. Only then did the real brutal fucking begin. His idea of foreplay was a whole new experience. He pulled out so only the head was inside my mouth allowing me to take a deep breath. He pushed back in and started to aggressively fuck my mouth. My brain was flooded with the agony of the assault on my throat, a need to breathe and the image of this massive dong driving into my throat. As he continued to thrust all I could think about was my need to breathe.

I felt myself getting increasingly more woosy as his cock swelled in my throat. I have no idea how long he continued to fuck my throat. My mouth was empty when the shocks from my collar revived me. My mouth was full of cum. He must have pulled out and shot his load into the empty hole. How could one man create so much cum? My body ached but I couldn’t work out whether this was down to the brutal treatment my throat and body had just undergone or the shock I had received to revive me. Oxygen deprivation made my head felt like it was going to explode. I gasped for air dragging in more of the acrid aroma of poppers. My head was spinning.

“I almost forgot your reward!!”

The plug in my ass came alive again stimulating my prostate. It started so slowly. I could barely feel it but it stepped up over time. The level was creeping ever upwards. It started to take my mind off the pain coming from my throat. I had to stifle the urge to moan as the stimulation got to a pleasurable level. Again though, it just stepped through the pleasurable level and became ever more intense. I squeezed my toes together hanging in the restraints high above my back and clenched my fist as it got more intense.

Before the programme had finished the next cock entered my mouth. Thankfully, this was a thinner cock and taking it down my throat was much less traumatic. For the first time ever, I took a cock without triggering my gag reflex. I guess that the ultimate cure for gag reflex is taking a mammoth cock that pile drives on regardless. If that was the case, then I was cured. As he pushed his cock down smoothly into my throat the stimulation in my ass intensified and I moaned but the cock acted as a gag so the only one who was aware of the moaning was the owner of the cock inside my throat. My throat had been reshaped to accommodate the biggest of cocks. Even with this new cock buried deep in my gullet I found that I could still pull in air.

The stimulation in my ass was well past the point where it could be processed as pleasurable. I willed the sensation to increase just a little bit more so it would tip me over the edge and let me cum. I was struggling to focus. The cock in my throat was pumping in and out now. My throat must have been slick after its assault and he was moaning as he thrust and drew back slowly. The stimulation suddenly stopped.

He pushed in deep into my throat and moaned loudly as he pumped his cum deep into my throat. His moaning continued as his cock continued to throb in my throat. He started to pull out until just the sticky head was left in my mouth. I rolled my tongue around and started to lick it clean without having to be told. As he pulled back, I automatically reached my tongue out and played with his piss slit. He obviously enjoyed the attention as he left his cock close to my mouth so I could continue to lick it. He moved his cock back into my mouth and started to push it into my throat. I thought he was going to fuck my face again, so it came as a shock when I felt the stream of hot piss flowing into my throat. I didn’t swallow and the piss started to fill my mouth and then overflow out.

“Swallow, you lazy bastard.”

I swallowed quickly. His piss was strong and acrid. I had swallowed piss before but never had it delivered to the back of my throat. In the past I had always been kneeling in front of the man pissing over me, mouth open ready to drink the liquid as it showered down on me. This was so much more intense. I had no choice but to swallow if I wanted to catch my breath. I gulped trying to clear my mouth so I could breathe again. As soon as I started to swallow the hot, yellow liquid he was refilling it. There was no way for me to stop it from overflowing out of my open mouth.

“I told you to swallow, you useless fucker.”

As the shock program in my restraints was activated every muscle in my body went into spasm. Stretched out as I was there was nowhere for my muscles to go. My mouth turned into a piss fountain as all the piss inside me was pushed out by my convulsing muscles. The shock seemed to be endless. My neck tried to straighten despite the rigid form which held it at the most unnatural angle. Finally, it stopped as suddenly as it started. My muscles felt like they had been wrenched apart.

No sooner had the shocks finished than I felt another cock thrusting into my open mouth. He thrust in deep with a single thrust. My brain was too foggy to do anything. All my sense had been overloaded. The poppers were making it difficult to focus. All I could do was lie there and let him fuck my throat. He wasn’t gentle but my ability to process anything had gone. I felt his thrusts and it was almost like I wasn’t there. I felt the familiar pulsing of his cock as he unloaded his cum deep into my throat.

“Fuck that’s one hot mouth – hey guys you’ve got to try this one”. I could visualise a crowd of horny men queuing up to play with the newest toy in the shop.

I felt the pulsing in my ass start to increase again. I was horny as hell and my cock was squeezed tightly by the cage with the pins driven into my cock head. I moaned and my collar tingled ominously.

A cock lunged at my throat and slid in with a single thrust. He pulled back and drove back in with a single thrust. There was so much force behind each thrust but my head was held tightly in the form and the positioning gave him open access to my gullet. The pulsing in my ass seemed to be synchronised to his thrusts. I was being spit-roasted with the cock in my mouth and the probe in my ass synchronised. The stimulation from the probe in my ass increased with each thrust. He increased the speed and force of each thrust. I ached for him to cum.

I was desperate to taste it. The pulsing in my ass was beginning to push me closer to closer. I could taste his precum now as he pulled out and rested his cock on my tongue. He drove forward and the pulsing hit a new level. He lunged forward pressing his pubes against my lips. I felt him unloading deep inside me. As his cock throbbed the pulsing in my ass hit a new level and I felt my cock unloading in its cage. All the stimulation had been too much, and my prostate had unloaded. It was so long since I had last been able to cum and the intensity was like nothing I had ever experienced before.

He pulled back until his cock head was laid on my tongue and I went to work mechanically cleaning his glans. I savoured the taste of his cum as I licked it away. How had I become so much of a cum whore in such a short time? Now I just needed to suck more cocks.

The stream of cocks just seemed to be never-ending. No sooner had a cock throbbed and unloaded into my throat or into my open mouth than the next cock was taking its place. I have no idea how many cocks I took that night. The probe in my ass went through its program of increasing stimulation as a reward each time the top was satisfied with my performance. As the pace increased I was getting the reward from the last cummer as the next was pumping in my throat. I was overcome with all the stimulation I was getting. I was exhausted but there was no way for me to tap out or ask for a break.

My mind was overloaded from the stimulation – the taste of cum, the stimulation in my ass, the force of the thrusts the cocks drove into me. Some of the cocks were larger but nothing like the mammoth cock that I had encountered at the beginning of the session. With every cock I craved the taste of cum and ached for the painful stimulation deep in my ass. I ached for another release but no matter how much I tried the stimulation stopped before I managed to push over the edge. I just needed one more cock to make me unload again. I was so desperate. One session in this device had converted me into a cock sucking toy. A completely compliant cock sucking whore. My cock throbbed in its cage at the thought of it. Deep inside my head, I could hear Master’s voice telling me that he was proud of me and that I was becoming the slave I was born to be.

I woke up and I was back locked securely in my cage. My throat hurt like hell. It was burning and felt like someone had been ramming unplaned timber into it. Every time I swallowed, I could feel all the bruising that resulted from yesterday’s activities. If I had been allowed to talk then I knew that I would be so hoarse. Of course, that wasn’t a problem for me anymore.

The lights came on and Master West walked into the room.

“You did well slave. Lots of satisfied tops last night. Out”

The restraints released and the cage opened. I clambered out and assumed the required position. Stood there with my feet the prescribed distance apart and my hands firmly clasped behind my head. He reached forward and cupped my balls.

“These are hanging low this morning. Good to see that they got properly drained yesterday.” He gave them a squeeze.

He clipped a leash onto my collar and pulled me towards the door. We walked back across the clearing towards the medics room. We walked inside and he directed me to sit in the reclining chair. My restraints locked in place holding my neck, ankles and wrists in place. The medic was standing to one side dressed in his white coat.

“768 was in the cocksucker service yesterday. I need to check that there isn’t any permanent damage. I think IslandMasterUK has told you about the upgrade he wants to be done while 768 is in the chair.”

The medic nodded and moved towards me.

“Did the mouth shields work okay?”

“Fuck yes. I can’t believe the improvement. A wide-open mouth like that is just made to take a cock at the drop of a hat.”

The medic stood over me and moved his fingers towards my mouth.

“Open.”

“You don’t need to do that!” Master West pressed the button on his remote and my mouth spread wide.

The medic ran his fingers around the edges of the shield on the inside and out.

“It’s a perfect fit. By now the dental cement will be permanent. It bonds into the structure of the tooth so there is no way this is coming out. I had a charging loop incorporated into the cock sucker so as long as it spends time in there at least once a week you won’t have any problem with it losing power. If it does ever lose power then it is programmed to always fail to the open position to avoid any risk of problems.”

Master West smiled.

“I’m tempted to leave it open permanently as it looks so inviting. Mind you I do like the permanently locked look too. You should be so proud of this one.“

“I am,” replied the medic. “IslandMasterUK is really happy with it too. He has given me permission to push ahead with some of my other ideas. He sees 768 as a blank canvas to convert into the ultimate Island slave. I am sure you will love some of the additions I have in mind.”

He pushed his fingers roughly into the back of my throat and touched my tonsils.

“Wow, his gag reflex has completely gone. Looking at the state of his throat there is a good chance that it’s already permanent. To be sure though can I suggest that 768 should be regularly assigned to the cock sucker to make the change irreversible.”

Master West laughed.

“Public demand will see to that. I think we would have a riot if his throat wasn’t available all weekend. Anton broke him in last night and you know how big his cock is. Just looking at his cock always makes me wince. I do like to see it in action though and he really knows how to make the experience memorable for the slave.”

The medic shone a torch into my mouth and probed deeper with his fingers.

“Some severe bruising in here. 768 is going to have a tender throat for a few days. Not like it needs an incentive to keep quiet though. All good at this end. So, let’s look at the upgrade.”

Wakeysub

To be continued …

At Brutal Tops, Master Aaron gets off on restraining and beating this BITCH and beams with pride for every new red mark he inflicts on its bare skin. What a laugh watching this fucker’s arse get pounded while being milked like a cow. Ha! All it can do is moan in absolute agony like it’s really nothing more than some barnyard beast!

See the video at Brutal Tops