Last summer, Bind volunteered for long-term bondage in whatever his site visitors requested. Today, it’s a padded cell!
See this new video today at Men In Chains
Monthly Archives: June 2021
He ain’t going nowhere
Another video eposide, “Trouble Bound: Part Four” has been added to the Men in Chains collection:
See this and much more at Men In Chains
101 uses for duct tape
Fetish fiction: Time in the Cell
Click the image directly below to read this story, called Time in the Cell:
More stories like this and much more at Prince of Rubber
Bondage chairs
Hired Help
By Cutieboy90
Sanchez pulled up in front of the Old McGriffith Farm, a dust cloud stirring up from the wheels of his F-250 as it bumped to a halt. Sanchez adjusted his tie and put on his big white hat and stepped out of the cab.
A big Chevy pulled up next to Sanchez. It was supposed to be blue, but the color had long been obscured by layers of dust. A lean muscular cowboy jumped down from the cab.
“Hey Mike,” Sanchez nodded. He and Mike had been buddies for years and worked several jobs together.
“So this is the place, huh?” Mike drawled. “Good chunk of land, no wonder they need help. Generous deal too.”
Sanchez nodded, pulling the ad out of his pocket. “And it’s a two-year contract. Gotta appreciate that job security.”
It was true enough. $60,000/ year salary plus earned bonuses. Healthcare, retirement plan, room and board supplied, and meals too. It was too good a deal to pass up, even if the farm was out in the middle of nowhere…
Rigid Wrist and Ankle Cuffs
Click for Rigid Wrist Cuffs
Lots more iron restraints here
You can find lots more BDSM gear at the Mr-S-Leather store
Third letter from an inmate
Update: I received yet another letter from my acquaintance, this one apparently written when he was actually INSIDE his jail cell! See below.
Metal,
Well, here I am. I have decided that orange may actually be my color. I am out of the habit of wearing baggy clothes.
There is not much to say. What you notice is what you take for granted. There are no visible clocks, so the passing of time is a blur. There is a nearby clock tower for the county courthouse that chimes through the day, but the sounds are muffled. And while I can hear some of the time, you never know if your counting of the ‘bongs’ is right or not. I feel my senses are a bit dulled.
The starkest, boldest and most damning of going to the jail is the transformation. You lose your freedom of course, but what you wear, what you do and when you do it. The most striking though was the transformation of the world color. The courtroom is painted in warm hues of a mix of peach skin and gentle terra-cotta. It is well lit with thoughtful lighting and bright. The floor is carpeted and the furniture, while designed to be functional, is comfortable. I did talk back at the judge a bit, and that was not appreciated. I soon learned the message.
The coldness of it all occurs when you leave the courtroom. You leave the courtroom and enter the ‘public’ area of the Jail. The warm tones are left behind and you transition into a blend of law-enforcement shades of green and green-grey. The carpet becomes well-aged linoleum, being clean and well swept. The lighting moves to standard fluorescent lighting. Then finally you go through the heavy double steel door into the Jail itself, the floor is now bare concrete, the colors are all very dark, unyielding blue tinged custodial grey. What few lights bulbs that exist are hidden behind very hard plastic fixtures, and likely at most are 50-watt bulbs. The place is dim. The lighting is not strong enough to even see what you are reading.
There have been long periods of quiet tedium. And waiting. And waiting some more. Waiting for something, a something that seems never to come.
I will keep you posted.