(co-written with DenialLuvr on bdsmlr) Three days passed after Ford had been awoken by the voice, and all he could do was move around the stuffy, worn down room. The voice didn’t speak again, and there was no visible way out. No doors. The windows were fake. The only clue as to the passage of time was a small clock mounted on one wall. When he wasn’t searching for a way out, or focused on how hungry he was, he slept on the thin, uncomfortable cot. When he woke on the fourth day, he was in a different place. This time, he was cuffed to a table in a clean white room. He had been placed in a pair of tight cut off gray shorts and nothing else. That is when he heard the scratchy voice. His head was pounding and he needed to relieve himself. "Where the hell am I?" were the only words he could manage to form. "Are you Lieutenant Darren Ford?" The voice asked simply. Ford looked around only seeing a black speaker box mounted on the wall across from him, and an old...

Soldier: 2050 A.D. Lieutenant Ford was in trouble. His transport had gone down on the wrong side of the DMZ. He was the only survivor. His only chance was to get back across the border before dawn, and try to avoid the patrols. The loud click of an automatic rifle was the first sign that he’d failed. Ford woke up on a ratty cot in what looked like a psychopath’s bedroom.   There was writing on the walls and floor, in several languages, and the air smelled of old blood and death. His jumpsuit had been taken, leaving only his thin, white undershirt. A quick glance revealed that that was all he was wearing beneath the soiled blanket that had been draped over him. A set of electronic cuffs connected by a thick cord connected his wrists. “Good morning, Lieutenant.” A scratchy voice called out from nearby. “Do you have any physical conditions I should know about before we begin?” Ford looked up groggily, searching for the source of the voice. “I am dying to know...

Jason had only been on the cross country team for one semester before the school year ended. He wasn’t the fastest runner, but he did allright. The star of the team, Steve, was a speed god. He outpaced everyone. His body was magnificent, and Jason had a hard time not staring in the locker rooms after practice. He had twice the muscle mass of Jason, and it looked like he was cut from marble. Jason always had to race home and beat off. That summer, all new team members were required to go to running camp to improve their skills. Jason was concerned by this. He was the only noob on the team. Four weeks, in the mountains, with the best runners in the school? He’d be humiliated every day. Things got worse when he arrived at the secluded camp. They were paired up, two guys per cabin…and he was paired with Steve. There was no way he’d be able to conceal his hardons for a month! He’d be outed for sure! It didn’t take that long. The second night, after a painfully long, hot day, Ja...

(feat. artwork by Enduring Inferno, posted with permission) The sound of the chains and gear clinking and grinding filled the dark room. “Uggghhhh….uhhhgghhhhh….” Barret groaned as his arms and legs were stretched even tighter. His shoulders and groin burned, his limbs trembling as the chains strained them further from his core. There was a loud thunk as his tormentor hit the switch on the control panel, stopping the hydraulics. “That’s far enough for now. Don’t want you to strain anything…yet.” Barrett didn’t know the man’s name. He was a muscular Australian, sporting a Mohawk and rat tail down his neck and constantly holding a lit cigarette in his mouth. Barrett just took to calling him “Mohawk.” Mohawk gestured toward his pal, Cueball, who handed over a syringe. “Speaking of straining things, do you know what this is?” Mohawk asked casually. When Barrett didn’t reply, he waved the syringe back and forth. “It’s a special formula our lab boys cooked up: Tri-Mix, Viag...

Adam had been undercover with the drug cartel for eight months, posing as a low-level enforcer. In that position, he’d been able to find people in the organization willing to snitch and quietly “disappear” them into the hands of his fellow agents at the DEA. One day a “big fish” in the organization was revealed to be a fellow undercover agent, working for a different branch of law enforcement. Or so it seemed. Faced with a chance to do real damage to the cartel, Adam let his guard down. It was all staged. He was exposed! “Tell me how much the agency knows, pig !” Adam didn’t answer. One of the crew rammed a crowbar into the meat of his thigh again, bruising the massive muscles. Adam grunted in pain, but stayed silent. His captor reached out with one gloved hand and grabbed Adam’s large balls, crushing them painfully. “Talk pig, and you might get to keep these for a while longer!” Adam gritted his teeth against the agony, squeezing his eyes shut, still saying nothing. He...

(based on some of SparkieShock's artwork) "Sami, Sami, Sami...the Master is SO disappointed in you." Daniel admonished with a cruel smile tugging at his lips. He turned the crank and widened the stirrups on the metal chair, spreading the prisoner's thighs a bit more. Sami raised his head and shook his sweat-dampened, blue-dyed hair from his eyes. "Pl-please, I don't—" Daniel touched the tazer to the copper-lined box at the edge of the chair that trapped Sami's huge testicles. Electric current lanced through the cold metal and arced through the vulnerable orbs. "AAHHH! AHHH! AGGHHHHH!" Sami's screams echoed off the thick walls of the interrogation chamber. "AHHHH! AAAGGGHHHHHKKK!" "Your lies are pathetic, Sami," Daniel spat. "We know you're the one who organized the underground railroad. All those pain slaves you helped disappear? Did you think we wouldn't notice?" "I didn't!...

Classified US Navy Incident (Real names have been redacted.) Lieutenant Commander T, US Navy, blinked as he regained consciousness. The last thing he remembered was going back to his hotel room after the conference and smelling something sickeningly sweet. Then, everything had gone black. As his vision came into focus, he realized two things: he was no longer in the hotel room that had been assigned to him, and he was completely naked on a metal table. Moving wasn’t an option. His feet were locked into a set of stirrups at the end of the table, and his wrists were secured to the sides by heavy leather straps. Another strap was pulled tightly against the lowest rung of his abs, holding him against the table top and pressing his pelvis flat against the freezing cold surface. Before he could evaluate his predicament any further, a bright white light switched on directly overhead, blinding him. “Good evening, Commander,” a voice said from somewhere out of his sight. T turned hi...

Short story based on sparkieshock's former artwork blog on tumblr "AHHHHHH! AH! AGGGHHHHHH!" Mike screamed as the current lanced through his helpless body. "AGGGHHHHH! AGGGHHHH! AHHHHHHHH!" "Thought you were a man, Mikey?" Greg taunted. "You said you had what it takes," Joe added, frowning in disappointment. Mike had waited until his Sophomore year to tryout for the football team. The university technically allowed Freshmen to join, but he had wanted to build up his body first. He'd succeeded. In his first year and a half on campus, Mike had transformed his scrawny, thin high school body. He sported 16 inch biceps, a 30 inch chest, six pack abs that had all the girls in his classes drooling, and thick, trunk-like quads that propelled him to new personal records on the track. When he'd finally approached the team, things had looked promising. The assistant coaches in charge of recruiting had administered a series of stren...

Chapter 2 Wonder Boy drove his motorcycle hard as he sped down the main highway around the city. He'd looked everywhere, but there was no sign of Captain Purity or the Chastity-Mobile. It was possible the big muscle-car was in stealth mode, and if it was, even Wonder Boy wouldn't be able to locate it. His only hope was for Captain Purity to turn on his locator beacon, and if something had happened to him, he might not be able to! He owed Purity his life. He'd been a homeless teenager, selling his body and his services to survive when Purity had found him in one of Cockmaster's slave houses. Purity had taken him in, given him a purpose, trained his body and mind and entrusted him to be his partner. In the five years since, Wonder Boy had grown into a hero in his own right. Suddenly the screen mounted between his handlebars flickered to life with a city map, and a red blinking indicator at the Waterworks. Purity's beacon! Wonder Boy turned the bike, sliding in...