Story – ‘Dave’s Punishment’

A ticklish straight uncut 19 year old tennis instructor named Dave suffers through an intense tickle punishment and orgasm denial as a lesson for getting to touchy-feely with his male 18 year old pupil.

Dave’s Punishment
by Eddie

The match had left Dave feeling alive and ready for anything. Life was good; he’d recently been promoted to Senior Tennis Coach at the club – at 19, the youngest ever. He loved the game so much that he thought he’d do it even if he didn’t get paid for it – a lot. He was young, good-looking, had managed to buy a nice house in a good part of town and, although he lived alone, he had many admirers and some very interesting friends.

Dave was happy. As he’d been jogging home, he’d been thinking about what to wear when he went out to the club tonight – and it wasn’t until he put his key in the lock of his front door that he realized he was no longer alone. He heard a footstep behind him. Startled, he began to turn, and suddenly everything went black as a loose canvas hood was dropped over his head. His arms were seized and handcuffed behind him and his legs were strapped together – all this before he knew what was happening. He heard the door opening and then felt himself lifted and carried through into his house.

Struggling and shouting, he was taken upstairs and dumped onto his bed. Then, while being held helpless by several pairs of hands, he was strapped spead-eagled and face up, to the corners of the bed. Next, his trainers and socks were removed. All he was wearing now was his jogging shorts – not even underwear (he’d got a thing about shorts and took every opportunity to wear them with nothing underneath).

During all of this, Dave had struggled to get free and shouted blue murder into the hood. Who were these people? What was happening? Was he about to be robbed – or killed? He lay trembling on the bed, unable to see anything and not knowing what was going to happen to him. He was still trying to get free but he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to get out of his restraints. He was stretched out on the big double bed and couldn’t move an inch.

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Story – ‘Keith’s First Bondage Experience’ from

I don’t know why I am turned on by bondage, I just am. I have always had an interest in bondage ever since I accidentally handcuffed myself to me bed. (That’s another story.) Let me first tell you a little about me. I’m 19, a senior in High School, love football and I’m the captain of the basketball team. I’m also bi but I have always acted straight. My parents don’t even know about my sexuality. I’m 6’2″, and in good shape. I really look like an athlete. After every football game, at least five girls ask me out. I really don’t go out much though. Usually, after school, I go home and fantasize about being tied up securely and having some guy have his way with me. He would massage me, explore my body, run ice cubes up and down my chest, jack me off, stuff like that. I never played out any of my fantasizes though, until now. I recently had my first bondage experience and I’d like to tell you about it.
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Story – ‘The Machine’ from

Craig was going insane. For two days he had been locked up in this prison cell. Oh, it was a very comfortable suite: thickly carpeted, with a soft bed, television and radio, well-stocked kitchen area, books to read, in fact it was extremely luxurious – but it was a prison cell nonetheless. He wasn’t bored, and it wasn’t the fact that he was locked in here which was driving him out of his mind – it was that he was so fucking horny – and there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it.

When he’d regained consciousness after passing out from that searingly intense orgasm he’d had while he’d been strapped to the wall, he’d found himself lying on the bed here in this suite. The first thing he’d noticed when he’d opened his eyes was his reflection in the mirrored ceiling. Staring back at him was a good-looking punk boy with a short blond mohican. All he was wearing was a couple of leather wrist bands – locked on – and a very strange-looking pair of shorts. Each of the leather bands had a slight lump on one side, but apart from that they were featurless. The shorts, however, were very odd – they appeared to be made from thick rubber, and they were padlocked onto him at the waist and at each leg. They fitted very tightly, molding to the contours of his hips – but the most extraordinary thing about them was the crotch: the part covering his cock and balls was solid and rigid – and it was enormous. It protruded perhaps eight inches from his body in a rounded pyramid between his legs. Lying there on the rubber-covered bed, Craig looked down at himself and shook his head in disbelief. “What?” He said.
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Story – ‘The Wall’ from

When Craig regained consciousness he found himself in an odd position – he was standing spread-eagled, pressed against a wall. But it was a strange wall: covered in shiny black PVC, it felt slightly padded, and there was a shallow depression the size and shape of his head, which made his position quite comfortable. His arms were horizontal from shoulder to bent elbows, and his forearms vertical. There were padded leather straps over his wrists, just below the elbows, and over his biceps, two wider ones across his back – one just below the armpits and the other above the waist – and further straps over each thigh, calf and ankle. Each strap held him tightly against the padded wall and allowed no movement whatever.

Craig was unable to see his feet, but they felt as if they were inserted into holes at the base of the wall – at any rate they were facing forward, and held snugly but comfortably in the padded apertures.

He could feel a gentle pressure around his cock and balls – it felt like he was wearing a cockstrap – and presumably there was another, somewhat larger depression in the wall at his crotch to accommodate them.
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Story – ‘Abduction’ from

I don’t really remember how I got here. I know that I was at a party with a few friends. I know that I had probably too much to drink, but that’s all I remember of the night before. I went to move, feeling as if I was floating on air, but something kept me from going anywhere. I tried to open my eyes, but everything was dark, black almost.
I went to say something, I don’t know, anything, but I couldn’t even do that. Something was keeping me from talking. Something was in my mouth and I couldn’t spit it out. I started to force myself up from my position, but I got nothing. Frustration led to yelling, but it did me no good.
“Ah, you’re awake,” were the first words I heard.
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