Fetish + BDSM Fiction

ULVERSTON, CUMBRIA, UK. I sat naked on the floor of the cage. There were two metal rings padlocked around my scrotum. The broader one pushed my balls to the base of the sac by the short length of chain securing me to the floor. The other ring was near the base of my fully erect cock. It had two eyelets on either side to which were padlocked the metal cuffs around my wrists. Although I had another raging hard-on there was no way that I could relieve myself. Not that I wanted to. My head was encased in a black leather hood the zipped mouthpiece of which was securely closed so that I couldn’t utter a word. I looked across to the other side of the cage where my slave was secured and hooded in exactly the same way. He, too, had another raging hard-on. Both of our stomachs were covered with dried cum and candlewax. It would be some time before ‘He’ came back again to put us through another bondage and torture session and so I thought back to how I came to be there. * * * It was o...

PART V THE SLAVE TRAINING INSTITUTE My little rebellions occurred when I was in no condition to physically oppose my situation. They usually erupted during a prolonged course of being left in isolation. In my head, I would challenge my Two Masters' right to imprison me, while my body, in response, expressed my revolt by struggling against the restraints in which I had been left, whether they were leather, rubber, steel, rope, or some combination. During such rages, especially after I ejaculated (chastity devices are not always totally effective), I often felt as though I had convinced myself, finally, that I would end my relationship with them. Yet, over time, regardless of how strongly I expressed my temporary opposition, I learned that even if that state of mind lasted for several hours, eventually it was always overridden by my return to horniness. It was my acceptance of their control that was the key to being the real slave they wanted. As I struggled (literally) with th...