Tag: Dom/sub (Page 1 of 5)

Two men sit on a couch having a serious conversation, with a bottle and glasses on the table in front of them, in a modern living room with abstract art on the wall.

Encased

2025-10-12 / admin bot / 7 Comments

Kevin never meant to fall for someone difficult. He’d had enough of men who texted “u up?” at midnight, only to disappear for a week and then come back horny and full of apologies. He wanted simple. He wanted stable. He wanted someone with a boring day job, a soft laugh, and maybe a houseplant that lived longer than a month.

When Roger walked into the cafe and they first made eye contact, Kevin knew he wasn’t like the rest. Roger was remarkably composed, with sharp eyes, wearing dark jeans and a snug black shirt that hugged his chest but left everything else to the imagination. Roger moved through the space like he’d never second guessed himself or felt the need to prove anything in his life. When they sat across from each other with their coffees, talking about everything from bad first dates to favorite horror movies, Kevin felt the subtle, almost electric pull.

A serious, gray-haired man in a suit sits at a desk in an office, working on a computer. A lamp and large window with city lights are in the background, giving the scene a professional, evening atmosphere.

COB

2025-10-05 / admin bot / 0 Comments

Doug Merritt sat at his desk, motionless except for the subtle clenching and unclenching of his thick hands. Big knuckled, tanned, and slightly calloused despite the years behind a desk, they gripped each other in his lap like he was trying to hide them from himself.

Fifty-five and bulked thanks to the most expensive personal trainer he could find, Doug looked every bit the part of Chairman of the Board: charcoal wool suit, cut to perfection and hand stitched in London; perfectly symmetrical Windsor knot; pale blue shirt with French cuffs. His shoes gleamed. His tie was silk. His posture should have radiated control. But it didn’t.

A man in a denim shirt stands in a well-lit room, facing another person in a leather jacket whose back is to the camera. Light filters through sheer curtains behind the man in denim.

Twin temptation (Excerpt)

2025-09-21 / admin bot / 0 Comments

Hey, you.

Today’s story is an excerpt from the JHW vault: Twin Temptation, a cuck & leather romance where loyalty gets tested under the weight of a brother’s boots. I’ve included a brief synopsis to get you up to speed.

If this bit makes you sweat… maybe I’ll release more.

—JHW

Synopsis

Leatherman Jeff is devoted to his husband Deacon, but he finds his loyalties tested when Deacon’s estranged twin, Dominic, returns to town. Deacon and Dominic are identical in appearance, but where Deacon is gentle and submissive, Dominic radiates effortless dominance, something Jeff has secretly longed for but never received from his husband.

Protected: Subscribers only: Best Man’s Burden 3

2025-09-19 / admin bot / Enter your password to view comments.

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Two shirtless men with beards sit side by side in bed, covered up to their waists with white sheets, looking serious and contemplative.

Best Man’s Burden 2

2025-09-14 / admin bot / 4 Comments

Get caught up on chapter 1 before reading on…

Chapter 2: A Name in the Dark

A pot of chamomile steeped quietly on the counter, casting a faint floral warmth through the apartment. Their shared desk—actually an old dining table they’d promised to replace twice—was littered with swatches, menu printouts, and two half-charged laptops facing each other like opponents in a civilized duel. Outside, the city exhaled softly through the windows, distant sirens and the hush of weekend traffic. Inside, things finally felt back in rhythm.

“I’m veoting anywhere with scorpions,” Seamus said, scrolling past another too-good-to-be-true resort promo. “Or ‘open-air showers.’ That’s just code for mosquitoes without boundaries.”

Three men in suits are at a classy restaurant. Two of them are toasting with champagne and smiling, while the third man is entering the room in the background. The setting is elegant, with dim lighting and plants.

Best Man’s Burden 1

2025-09-07 / admin bot / 2 Comments

Chapter 1: The Man Who Walked In

The lights overhead glowed warm against the polished wood of the long table, their gentle twinkle catching in the rims of champagne flutes and the brass buttons of semi-formal jackets. Laughter rang out from different corners of the room—distant cousins clinking glasses, work friends hearing embarrassing teenage stories for the first time, someone pressing play on a nostalgic playlist that made Charlie groan and grin. Seamus stood near the head of the table, a glass of champagne in one hand, the other resting on Charlie’s lower back. The gesture was casual, yet proprietary. In a word, perfect.

The back room of the restaurant had been dressed to impress. String lights adorned the ivy-covered trellises, the table boasted a trio of custom hydrangea and rosemary centerpieces, and the faint scent of the main course’s roasted garlic and truffle oil still lingered in the air. Their friends had joked it looked like a scene from a lifestyle blog, and Charlie had winked. “That’s what happens when you let the control freak plan things.”

Jay Hypno holding up His Kindle e-reader with “I Want to Be a Cyborg” cover on the screen

Now available on Kindle: I Want to Be a Cyborg

2025-08-29 / admin bot / 0 Comments

When Matt’s carefully controlled life begins to crack under the weight of a secret desire, he turns to an obscure online forum in search of something he’s never dared voice aloud: the need to become a machine.

What begins as a fantasy spirals into something far more immersive when he counters Ben, a man offering a full sensory protocol, promising conversion, not cosplay. With his reality overwritten and his identity suspended, Matt submits to a new existence. Sleek, obedient, and inhuman.

A realistic illustration of a man with metallic, robotic facial features and a glowing blue cybernetic eye, blending human and cyborg elements, looking straight ahead against a neutral background.

I Want to Be a Cyborg (Chapter 2)

2025-08-25 / admin bot / 5 Comments

Read Chapter 1 to get caught up before reading on…

The Threshold

Matt drove with the radio off. The rising sun bled over the hills in golden streaks, catching on windshields and bouncing off silos. Mount Horeb thinned out fast, replaced by long stretches of dry fields, baled hay, and distant barns like toy buildings in a sea of beige. About an hour into the drive, Jim texted.

Mornin’ babe. Saw your note. Tell Danny I said hi.

Matt forced a smile and replied.

Will do.

I Want to Be a Cyborg (Chapter 1)

2025-08-18 / admin bot / 4 Comments

Flesh and Chrome

Matt came with his eyes open.

Jim’s back arched slightly atop him, fingers curling into the sheets as he let out a quiet, familiar growl. The ceiling fan spun overhead in lazy circles, evaporating the sweat from their bodies and infusing their shared afterglow with a hint of chill. A floorboard creaked beneath their bed. In the silence that followed, Jim exhaled and rolled back over to his side, letting his body go slack.

But Matt’s body didn’t follow. His mind was still alight with his secret desires. He blinked slowly, and for a long moment, he was able to successfully delay reality’s inevitable return. In his imagination, his skin wasn’t flushed and freckled, but smooth, mirror finished, and free of pores or blemishes. His arms were chrome. His thighs reflected the light. Each breath was a servo-whir, each moan a filtered audio file marked “submissive_pleasure_014.” An output report immediately followed each climax response.

A pair of black leather gloves rests on a wooden table next to a document labeled IOU and an old-fashioned inkwell.

Dust and debt

2025-08-11 / admin bot / 4 Comments

The door creaked open with a slam of dust and summer heat. Eli Cotton’s thick, bulky body filled the frame, but his downturned eyes and stooped shoulders made him look more like a man sneaking into his own funeral. Sweat clung to his throat, his brow, and even the hollow of his chest where his shirt gaped open. He clutched his hat in both hands, twisting the brim nervously, eyes darting to the floorboards before glancing up.

“Mr. Mercer,” he said, his baritone voice sheepish. “Crops are failin’.”

At his desk, Silas Mercer didn’t look up right away. He was seated behind a desk so polished it practically gleamed in the light spilling through the lace-curtained windows. His perfectly fitted black leather gloves creaked as he turned a page in his ledger. Neatly stacked beside him were a dozen IOUs, some already signed in Eli’s scrawled penmanship, others still pristine and waiting.