The bondage gear above is by Sinvention
Photos by MajorBondage.com and SeriousMaleBondage.com
Monthly Archives: September 2016
Cage confinement
And, for even MORE about cage confinement, check out:
(a true story written by Master Ian’s salve, aka Quandt)
Marshall collapses to the floor, exhausted, only to be hauled up again
Check out what happens to Marshall at Dream Boy Bondage, and see below for a video clip!
Smooth, lean Marshall is stripped naked and stretched taut between two pulleys as muscle-stud Jared mercilessly whips his back and ass until he finally collapses to the floor. For a brief moment, Marshall thinks his beating is over, but he couldn’t be more wrong. Jared simply unhooks his captive’s wrists from the pulleys on the wall and fastens them instead to pulleys in the ceiling, then lifts Marshall up onto his toes and resumes flogging his back and ass – with more vigor!
But Jared is still not satisfied: He clips nasty, stinging clamps to Marshall’s nipples and the tip of his cock – and renews the whipping even harder! Then it’s time for the alcohol.
See all at Dream Boy Bondage
The Convict – Part 13
By Joshua Ryan
It was a strange-looking room. What you saw was a line of long metal benches, the kind of benches that are big enough for a guy to lie down on and spread out his arms above his head. The benches were lined up parallel, every few feet. And you could tell that guys were supposed to lie down on them, because they had cuffs and shackles at all four corners.
At the head of every bench was a table, with some metal instruments arranged on it.
The panic was rising again, but I didn’t have time to panic. “Go to the drain, boy,” the officer said. He was pointing to the wall across from the line of benches.
I went to the wall. At the bottom I saw a thing in the floor like a gutter, or a big pipe with the top cut off of it. “I want to see you piss, boy. Do it now. And make sure you squirt it all out. We don’t want any accidents later on.”
How Did I End Up Here
JWM sent this picture from Second Life – titled “How Did I End Up Here.” Are there any guys from Second Life who read the Metalbond site? I know Jeb Nicholls does.
Changes …
By Rubrpig
Alan slowly woke up and stretched. Looking over at the sleeping form of his partner Robert he smiled and stretched again. Standing up he scratched his furry chest as he walked to the bathroom. Standing before the toilet, he grabbed his semi hard cock and began to piss. The dark yellow piss stream arced into the bowl. Shaking the drops from the head of his cock and the 2 gauge PA he turned and walked over to the sink and got a glass of water. Looking out the window, he decided that a morning swim in the pool would feel good. Grabbing a dark blue Speedo from the drawer he pulled it over his heavy muscled furry legs and over his butt.
Walking through the bedroom, he headed downstairs and out to the backyard pool. Diving in he spent 20 minutes swimming laps in the pool, and then hoisted himself out and sat on the edge of the pool. Hearing the sliding door open, he turned and smiled as Robert walked over carrying 2 mugs of coffee. Handing one to Alan, Robert pulled over a chair and sat down. Alan smiled at Robert and told him that it had been a great time at the bar last night. Robert agreed and smiled as he said, “those 2 boys were certainly willing and able.” Despite the warnings of their friends that a relationship between 2 confirmed leather tops wouldn’t work but it did. After 4 years together both men were still happy and committed to each other.
Just then the phone rang and Robert got up and walked into the house to answer it. He shortly came back carrying the portable phone and handed it to Alan. Alan looked up and saw that Robert’s face was troubled. Alan took the phone and said Hello and then began to listen to the caller.
Working out with handcuffs on
Dude, whoever you are, please contact me immediately!
Thanks to Atlanta Stud for passing this along!
Three Days in Jail – Part 02
By Pisslurper
The rules of the jail were strict, but simple and expected. I was supposed to call the jailor “Officer” and “Sir.” I was to keep my blanket folded neatly whenever I wasn’t using it. I was supposed to back away from the cell door and go nose to the wall with my hands clasped behind my head whenever instructed to do so or whenever the jailor was about to come into my cell. I was supposed to be in uniform (top and bottoms) whenever I was out of my cell.
For some reason, calling the jailor “Sir” or “Officer” just rankled me, and I resisted doing so. I guess I also gave him some attitude, although I was nicer when he had something I wanted, like a meal.
Once or twice a day he would conduct a cell inspection, looking for contraband I guess. He went through the whole unlocking the cellblock and cell routine, had me nose to the wall, and he cuffed my hands behind my back. Then he turned me around and locked the handcuffs to the metal L bracket that was fastened to cell wall. So now I am shackled, chained to the wall with my feet, and my handcuffed wrists are slightly elevated behind my back and locked to the wall. I couldn’t move much at all. The jailor then inspected the cell, looking under and checking the seams of the mattress and pillow, unfolding the blanket, and examining the entire cell.
I gave him some attitude during the first inspection, and when he uncuffed me, he shortened the chain to my shackles so that I could only move a few feet. Then he repeated the lock down process, and after the series of banging and clanking, I was again left alone in the dim cell, only know a little more severely restricted. I could still move a bit, but no more pacing the length of the cell. I could lie down since the foot of the bed was close to the point where the chain was attached to the wall, and I could stand to piss in my bucket if I needed. I don’t know how long I stayed like that, because, like I said earlier, time seemed pass both slowly and quickly.