By Prisoner805

Bondage Beginnings

For the record, this is a completely true story. All of this stuff actually happened. I’ve been into bondage for my entire adult life. As time has gone on, it’s gotten more and more advanced. It started with fucking around with handcuffs I had picked up at the local army surplus store. Leg irons followed, and so did hogties as a result. In college, I had my first bondage hookup. I knew then that this was going to be something I would be into forever.

Not long after, I met a couple who had set up a dungeon in their spare bedroom. They had a ton of steel and chain, rigid irons and even a cage. After experiencing more restraint than I’ve ever known, they called it a night. Seeing the disappointed look on my face, one suggested that I stay the night in the cage, naked and chained, of course. I lived alone and nobody was expecting me, so I did it. They tried to chain me but my damn wrists wouldn’t fit in the manacles. I was heavy at the time. I had never been very good about managing that at the time. Anyway, they locked some cuffs to set and I was chained for the night. I must have gotten off about 4 times in that cage using the lube that was leftover from earlier and every boner that I woke up to. It was about the hottest experience I’d had to date, but it never happened again. Not with anyone.

Over a decade has gone by and I have played with some formidable doms. I’ve been suspended, tied, chained, locked in rigid irons, flogged, spanked (hate it except for with a hand), zapped, buzzed to an electro orgasm…the list goes on. I got a Recon account ages ago and had chatted with thousands of people. Over all that time I had chatted on Recon on and off with one dom who I just never managed to meet. That was about to change, and I was about to do the craziest thing I had ever done while thinking with my dick.

Today, I’m in my mid thirties. I’m 5’11”, and down to about 190 pounds from 220. I’m of the football player, military build. Sturdy, and as I’m coming to find out, tough as nails. My nipples are wired directly to my cock, and as much as it hurts, they love to take abuse. Similarly, as much as flogging hurts, it makes my cock ooze something fierce. I hate spanking, but it does the same thing. Pain brings on the endorphins that make me shoot hard.

I’m a bit of a details guy. I’m outwardly calm and polite, but a Type-A personality. I make decisions all day long for a living. Some affect the outcome of peoples’ day, and many affect the future of their lives. People sometimes don’t like me at work. As a result, I’m keenly aware of my surroundings. By the way, this responsibility heavy occupation of mine has a direct effect on my kink. When my clothes come off, so does my responsibility. I don’t want to be in charge when I’m fucking around.

Over the years, I’ve encountered hundreds of kinksters describing themselves in hundreds of different ways. I’ve come to identify as a sub. I am not a slave. I can’t be your bitch all of the time, 24 hours a day. I can’t wear a collar under my shirt or a cock lock under my pants. That, by the way, pisses me off. If I didn’t love what I do for work, I’d find a way to change that. Anyhow, when you get my dick hard and get me to my knees, you’ve already accomplished something. When I play, I play hard. I like being bound in cold steel, thick leather, heavy chains, and real cages. I laugh at wireframe dog kennels. Sirs, I WILL kick your cage. If you’ve got me tied down enough, fine, but I’ll test that fucking thing. If it’s weak and I break it, you’ve failed me. If when I’m talking kink someone brings up fuzzy handcuffs, I chuckle condescendingly and will typically move on. This is why I like the idea of this jail I found. That’s what I wanted from it. I wanted hard, real, cold, unyielding lockdown.

The Jail

I’m not too sure how I came across the site, though it might have been on MetalBond. I stumbled across this new dungeon. Someone had taken apart a playspace often featured on Bind’s Men In Chains site years ago. What I didn’t know is that the doors and jail hardware had been stored until I saw Bind’s video on his site of the doors coming out of storage. It wasn’t too long after that when I figured out where they had gone. Someone had put together another jail themed dungeon. A no bullshit, iron bars and cinder block jail. The cock hardening part was that it was 20 miles from my house. I visited the website and decided that I was going to go there somehow. There had to be a way to make it happen.

Now it turns out that though the owner was easy enough to reach out to, he was getting swamped with gawkers like myself. I say that I was only an onlooker because at the time, I had intent, but no serious and describable plans. Also, renting the place for private use costs and I wasn’t sure I could accomplish finding someone to understand what I wanted from the place who was also available and able to share the cost with me. Enter the Dom from the 10 year chat, who I’ll call AR.

Making it Happen

AR happened to say hello. Being a little less awkward than I had been in years past, I politely returned the greeting. We go to chatting again and I quickly mentioned that I had discovered this jail for rent not terribly far from my place and his own. As the conversation went on, he suggested that we should plan to go to the jail. I had also mentioned my kidnap fantasy, which as a resident of the populous Bay Area of California, is difficult to accomplish without attracting all of the wrong kinds of attention. AR was gonna make it happen though.

AR is careful. He plans. He minds details. This all proved to be very, very useful. Over the course of 10 years, I’ve probably alluded to or outright told him way too many ideas while thinking with my cock. He remembered them all. He and I worked out enough of the details that we decided that it was going to happen: I was going to jail for 24 hours. Additionally, about that kidnap fantasy. Not only was I going to jail, but it was going to be as much of a kidnap as it could be without having two dozen cops looking for us.

About AR, like I said, he’s careful. He’s very undercover. He’s smart about it too. Detail guy that he is, he doesn’t make mistakes about revealing himself. I had never seen his picture in the 10 years we had talked. I had only heard his voice in Xtube videos. I could tell he’s not the type to host. All the Xtube stuff are hotel scenes. If he doesn’t want you to know who he is, you won’t. I did get one pic out of him. Only one. Some dude in sunglasses. Pretty nondescript. It didn’t really tell me much except that he wore a beard. I knew not to press further.

First Meeting

AR and I decided that we’d meet for lunch half way between so that each of us could determine whether or not the other was worth this effort. He told me that he’d like it if I were in a cock lock and jock. I dutifully donned my bird cage and Cellblock 13 neoprene jock. I arrived early. Very early. What I didn’t realize is that he had arrived earlier. I decided that I’d mess around in the bookstore before the burger place opened. I glanced from my magazine and saw that someone had walked into the aisle with me. A second glance moments later revealed the same person staring at me. It was AR. Surprised, I said hello.

Admittedly, it was awkward. I asked him now he found me. He said that he had watched me get out of my car. While most of me creeped out for a split second, my cock jumped in its cage. The guy with whom I had discussed my own kidnapping just showed me that he was capable of following me undetected until he wanted to be known to me. Well played, Sir.

We talked. We ate burgers and had some coffee. We talked little about kink, more about just general stuff. AR is calm, measured. He’s deliberate, and precise in his word choice. I could tell that he’s a force to be respected. We decided that we were good to go for this. AR told me that he would approach the owner of the jail. I drove away thinking that this might actually happen.

The Tour

AR got the details worked out with the jail. He told me that he had set an initial meet with the owner to tour the facility. He asked me if I would like to join him for the tour. “Hell yes!” I thought. But, still having some blood left in my brain despite the gallon in my cock, I declined. I didn’t want to know where it was. I asked him to give me a tour on our arrival when we actually do this thing. I didn’t want to know location or details beyond what’s on the website prior to doing this. He obliged.

After he toured, we met in the middle for lunch again. AR, measure and calm guy that he is, wore the look of a very impressed man. He described enough details to me that I was confident that this was going to happen. I could tell he was willing. We decided to move forward. AR asked me for a date. I didn’t have one, but went home to talk to my husband.

My husband is one in a million. That he puts up with me wanting to engage in this sort of outrageous behavior is absolutely remarkable. I mentioned to him that I had been talking to AR again, and that I had found this jail, and that I wanted AR to lock me down for 24 hours. I’d be unreachable. We always say good night and good morning. I’d have no phone though. To my amazement, he said yes. This was going to happen. I was going to jail.

The Plan

We decided that we would incorporate my kidnap fantasy into this thing. I picked a date, and AR secured it at the jail. This was happening. I was to be chaste for 10 days prior, locking up whenever possible. I worked out hard to build my strength and stamina for the month beforehand since that’s about all the time I had when I gave him the date. Once the 10 day countdown started, I tried locking my cock. It made me ravenously horny. Now there’s not a chastity device I’ve ever worn that I haven’t cum through. It’s never comfortable, but it eases my crazy. Not wanting to piss AR off, I explained myself and he told me that he did not want me to shoot. If that meant forgoing the cock lock, so be it. Not cuming was paramount.

Days before my internment date, AR sent an email with my orders. I was to pack the following gear (Most from Mr. S, and I’ll include SKU numbers for lookup purposes):

• 3 Buckle Hand Restraints (Old version of SL054)
• Standard Combination Irons (PRE008)
• Boots and Socks
• Clejuso Model 15 Cuffs (handcuffwarehouse.com)
• Chest to Wrist Restraint (SL358)
• Unlined Tight Hood (HT001, mouth hole only)
• Locking Muzzle Gag (HT013GAGLB)
• Neoprene Cocksucker Hood (NEO523)
• Rigid Irons. This was vague, so I brought all that I had:
• Rigid Collar and Cuffs (PRE018)
• Double Rigid Irons (PRE016, an all time favorite of mine)
• Fetters Chalet Cuffs (Not listed on Mr. S that I can find)
• Essential Leather Straightjacket (SJ050)

I was to pack a shirt, shorts, a jockstrap, socks, toothbrush, toothpaste, required regular meds, and my driver’s license. I had to lay out a hoodie, shorts, sneakers and socks, and leave out all the keys to the locks. I had to wait shirtless, cock locked in my Chastity Steel belt, wearing my UA boxer briefs over the belt and nothing else.

AR sent me screenshots of his countdown app constantly. The time grew nearer and nearer. Finally, I woke up on the day I would go to jail and was cruising tumblr mindlessly when there was a noise out front. It was AR.

Getting Arrested

AR came in and ordered me out of my underwear. I stood before a guy in my own house naked except for the chastity belt. He put me up against the wall and handcuffed me behind the back.

He searched me, making sure I hadn’t secreted a handcuff key somewhere. AR wore a devious smile and said “This is going to be really, really nice.” I could tell he was quite happy with himself. He took off of the handcuffs and told me to get dressed. I reached for my discarded underwear and he told me no. I tossed them upstairs and put on my shorts, hoodie, socks and shoes.

Out in the car, he and I went over a few more things. Finally, he asked me if I had anything more to say. I said no and he told me to suit up. I reached for my hood and laced it up. I put my muzzle gag on and buckled it in place. I couldn’t see now, and I couldn’t talk understandably. I pulled the hood up and pulled on the drawstring, hiding as much of my face as I could. AR provided a set of transport chains which consisted of handcuffs chained to leg irons. I locked them on and, using a key he gave me, drove the double locks home. I was locked in now. I handed him the key as he drove. This was it. I was heading for jail.

The road was curvy and bumpy. I had forgotten one very, very important thing about myself: I get car sick in the back seat on twisty roads. This quickly became a problem. Add to it that I was in a thick hoodie on an 80 degree day with only some window tint and no rear blown air conditioner. He had it running, but it takes a while to get back to the rear seat. It was so fucking warm I was pouring sweat into that hoodie. I tried to breathe deeply and calmly. I had no idea where we were going, and wanted it that way. I had to remind myself over and over, “You’re getting what you wanted. Don’t fuck this up.”

 

To be continued tomorrow …

Metal would like to thank the author, Prisoner805, for this story. You can find him on Recon under the same screen name.

You can get much of the gear listed above at Mr S.

The official Edge Dungeon website is here.