24 Hours in Jail – Part 2

By Prisoner805


It happened. I was in jail. As I heard him turn the key to the door lock, I leaned back on my bunk and felt the cold cinder block behind me. I raised my foot and kicked what must have been the toilet. I extended my foot and was able to touch the wall. AR came back after I had a few moments to rest. AR took off my transport chains and told me to strip. My hoodie, shorts, socks and shoes were gone. He locked them away out of my reach. AR did another search. I had asked to be treated like a high escape risk. That’s exactly what I got. He wasn’t taking any chances.

I had never seen this place before. AR told me that first thing, he’d show me the facility. Still hooded and gagged, AR put me in the rigid collar and cuffs. When that was secure, he took off my muzzle and my hood. Looking around, I stammered “The shit I get myself into…” while I looked on in amazement at where I was, and the state in which I was present there. My cock throbbed then as it does now while I write thinking about it. I was a prisoner for use by a sexual dominant.

AR took me around the facility and showed me solitary, the padded cell, the dungeon, which had every bondage device I could ever conceive of. Winches, irons, floggers, whips, cages…everything was there. I was in for quite a ride.

Earning Privileges

We had discussed that I would have to earn my comforts. I could better my circumstances through sex. Keeping to his promise, AR placed me in what turned out to be quite the small puppy cage. A different neck to wrist restraint went on me. Some call it a fiddle. I call it fucking hell. It held my wrists close in front of me at the end of a short bar that was solidly welded to a metal collar. Between the position it held me in and the lack of height in the cage, there was no way to get comfortable. I let him know it to. He didn’t much care. That pissed me off, but that is what I had asked for.

I was trying to move into a different position, but the lack of height in the cage and the position that the fiddle kept me in left me looking at the floor and my locked up cock. The floor of the cage was showing spots of oozed precum. I was trapped in unforgiving irons and steel cage bars and all I could do was let my cock leak in appreciation. I was annoyed, horny, getting sorer by the minute, and totally exhilarated and craved more abuse.

Eventually, AR realized that the position I was in was not long for success. He took that fucking fiddle off of me, and I got a brief break. I knew he’d want me performing though. I did pullups and situps as best I could inside the cramped space. Eventually, I crapped out though. Panting, I laid down on my back. AR caught me slacking, and was unsatisfied with my freedom inside the cage. He quickly locked my ankles outside the cage in a double rigid iron, and put my head through the cage collar. My hands were cuffed behind me. I was at a seated attention, soaking the floor in more horny sub juice.

This position I could take for quite a while longer and I did. I looked around the room as best I could. There was the steel framed bondage bed. A standing cage. A smaller cage with steel fist mitts and a steel ball shaped helmet. There was a blackout box to keep a sub in isolation. A bondage chair with a strap for every part of the body. There were hoists for suspension, sleep sacks, straight jackets, a wooden frame for whipping, and everything else you could think of to keep a sub on his toes. I was in some seriously deep shit, and my cock was throbbing to the best of its ability in its confinement, just spewing precum. I had 10 days of spunk saved up. My inability to get hard made my ass needy for attention. I had to get relief somehow. I knew what to do. Finally, I asked him for his cock. Once he made me repeat myself in no uncertain terms, AR let me out when I asked to suck his cock. I nervously tried my best to make sure he was happy. He must have been because I was allowed a little more square footage. I spent some time cuffed behind, hooded in the standing cage. Then, I was ordered back to my cell to don my muzzle.


With my muzzle in place, AR locked the rigid collar and cuffs on me again. He produced the key to my cock next, and took me out of the belt. “Fucking YES! I’m going to get to cum!” I thought. I was so desperate for some sort of relief from the 10 day load saved up, pressuring my cock to blow.

If you want to drive me absolutely crazy, get me convinced I’m going to cum and then disappoint me. AR knew that. My dub ass had been telling him about it for years. As much of a nice guy as I am, I’m just a dumb jock when it comes time to do something with an impending orgasm. I want nothing more than to shoot as hard and as far and as long as I possibly can. When I’m done, I want more. So, when AR walked me into solitary and locked the rigid iron to the bolt in the cinder block wall behind me and leg irons on my ankles, I knew that I was about to learn some shit. It’s when he left, locked the gate, shut the door, and turned off the light that I started to realize what I had asked for. This was it. Cold solitude, bound and horny in a brick room with no possible hope of escape. No control over any of it. I pulled as hard as I could on the bondage and it wouldn’t budge. I knew that I had spent hundreds of dollars on this iron years ago from Mr. S because it was quality stuff. Damnit, I wanted it broken, right then and there. To my disappointment, it wouldn’t break. I kicked the wall. I even jumped out of frustration a few times. Finally, my breathing slowed, my focus centered, and I thought to myself…

I give up. Fighting this is hopeless. I’m here to submit. I’m here to be of service to Sir. He will decide what is good for me, and he will allow or disallow whatever he chooses. I am a sub. I will take this, and whatever else he puts me through. I can do this. I will do this. This is what I asked for.

The moment I came to peace is the moment my cock stood at full attention. I looked down and saw it drool milky white. Off the tip, slowly reaching to the cold floor. I couldn’t help but flex and cause it to throb. It was the only sexual control I had. At that same moment, a feeling of intense emptiness overtook my ass. I needed a fucking, and I needed it bad. As it turned out, I got nothing for what seemed like about an hour. Just cold, quiet darkness and solid, unforgiving steel. It was perfect.

After a while I was let down from the wall. He continued taking pics of me as he would throughout the whole ordeal. I normally shy away from looking at the camera, but this was my ultimate fantasy come true. Fuck it. I stared him down and told him exactly what I was feeling without saying a word. Then, I was asking him for his cock. I sucked passionately. I was driven to be the best head AR had ever had. I was getting to be prideful. AR had bound numerous subs. I was going to come out on top. I was going to be alpha. When he was done with my mouth, he gave me a moment on my knees, free of the irons, to rest. My sub cock continued to betray me and spew juice into the puddle it had already started when he handed me the hood and hand restraints.

The First Punishment

AR asked me if I wanted a flogging or a spanking. We’ve talked about this. I originally couldn’t stand impact play at all. Lately, I’ve taken a prideful liking to getting a solid flogging, but I still hate spanking. It has always come too hard, too fast. That being said, I wasn’t about to disappoint, and frankly, I didn’t think I should be allowed any choices either. Fully intent to impress, I responded calmly and with cautious confidence, “Both, Sir.” (Drip).

I haven’t yet asked him, but AR must have been proud of my willingness to endure something he knew I hated. He marched me straight to the dungeon and put me under the hoist. “Kneel.” I knelt while he clipped my hands to the bar. The winch turned and I intentionally kept my legs bent, testing the lift and seeing if there was a flaw that I could exploit. (Like I said, escape risk). Like everything else in this place, rock solid.

AR began delivering blows to my shoulders and my ass. Most on my ass hurt like a motherfucker. The shoulder blows were more bearable as I was more used to it. In pain as I was, I could feel the endorphins coursing as I made sure to take controlled, deep breaths. All that got me was more whipping, and more hormones to my mutinous member, communicating just how much I was loving all the terrible shit he was doing to me.

Now AR is a good man and not one to foolishly cross a line. He would later tell me that he’d have given me a harsher beating, but that the truth of the matter is that I’m an anomaly for him. AR avoids married guys like the plague. He didn’t want to send me home scarred up and have to answer to my husband for it. AR is remarkably respectful like that. As a result, that earns mine in return. As it was, when he let me down from the hoist, I was rather red. I could feel it burn, and I was loving it.

After I had a moment to rest, AR told me to stand up. He walked me to the foot of the bondage bed. It’s a huge, metal framed king size bed with a St. Andrew’s Cross built into the foot of it. AR put me in a standing spread eagle while he made some other preparations. So that I wouldn’t get bored, he made sure to clip some clothespins onto my hardwired nips so that my cock would keep on jumping. It felt amazing, standing there with my nips sore and my cock begging for attention. I was really beginning to spin and feel like nothing more than a plaything for AR’s amusement.

The Beating Continues

Another thing I had never done was take a spanking from the security of a spanking bench. Luckily, one was on hand. Trust me, I didn’t want to be spanked. I HATE spanking. It has always, always caused my dick to pack up and go home. It hurts way too much, way too fast when people use tools to get it done. AR, luckily, started with a gloved hand. That, I could do. The pain of his hand landing actually did feel really invigorating. But then he went to the paddle.

It was one of those multi stranded flat leather paddles. He began smacking me with that thing and I literally jumped the bench right off of the ground. It hurt fiercely. I let out scream after yelp after cuss word, and he kept hitting me. The worst of it is when one of the paddle strands missed and connected with my taint right behind my balls. Such a super sensitive area causes immense pain. I saw stars. But was I into it? Apparently so. More dripping and throbbing from the giveaway swinging between my legs. Nevermind that I wanted to be impressive. I was well into my role as a sub by this point. I wanted to be the best. I wanted to be the toughest. I was gonna be the strongest he’d ever Dommed.

Reward and Regret

I had no idea what time it was. No natural light gets into the jail, and I had been hooded for almost all of my time there thus far. I was ravenously horny, and at the same time beginning to lose hope that I’d cum before my release from this place. I was starting to get used to the idea that it didn’t really matter. By that point, I was drunk on hormones and riding high on headspace. I was getting off on the energy of this place and the reality of my predicament.

It got tougher when AR had me lay on a table and cuffed me to it. There, he allowed me my first orgasm. I’ve never screamed so loud and been in so much ecstasy. It was truly amazing. The problem is, though, when I cum, I tend to want out. AR and I had discussed this at length. My dumb ass was quick to tell him that I’d want to be locked up immediately after busting my wad in a manner that drove home my status and situation.

Once I came down from my cum shot, AR got me to my feet and took me to the shower. He took off my restraints and handed me a bar of soap. Ignorant to his plans, I turned on the shower, and was immediately told to turn it off. I turned to see him holding the nozzle of a charged garden hose.

The Prison Shower

Holy shit was that water ever cold. I soaped up as fast as I could. Now what I didn’t figure in is that where we were was a place that gets seriously cold at night. I figured that out 30 seconds later when the ground water came up through the nozzle. I could have sworn it was liquid ice. I rinsed as fast as I could. Seeing that I was free of soap, AR mercifully turned off the water and tossed me a towel. I shook for quite a while with the cold. Honestly, it was pretty hot though!

More Alone Time

I was told to go to my cell. He told me to lock up my cock in my Chastity Steel belt again. Then came the irons. Neck, wrist, and leg manacles all chained to each other. Almost tall enough that I could stand up straight, but not quite. AR brought me to solitary and tossed me in. The doors closed, and the light went out.

I was tired. I was bored. I was a little angry that I was thrown into the hole. Mostly, I was annoyed with myself. As I sat my ass on the cold concrete wearing hard iron in a dark brick cage I could see the head of my cock pushing as hard as it could against the end of the chastity tube. This shitty fucking situation had me trying to get rock hard almost immediately after I just shot a massive, 10 day load. Not only was I convinced that I was crazy. I was convinced that I was living out one hell of a dream.

I just sat and listened to myself breathe. Every now and then, a pulse of my meat would yield a drip of jizz. A puddle collected on the concrete. I knew that I might sit there for a few minutes, or I might be there all night. After all, I wasn’t directly told that I was allowed to cum just now. I might have just really pissed him off, man of few words that AR is. He didn’t say, and I didn’t know. I just waited for him. That was my purpose.

I heard a timer go off and AR walked to the hole door and opened the outer door. He asked me how I was doing. (FUCKING SHIT IS HOW I’M DOING) I thought, but I didn’t dare say it. I fucking wanted out. This brick bullshit sucked. So here’s my chance. I was asked directly to report on my status. 805 tells AR: “Good, Sir.” The door closed and he walked away.

(You cock driven slut. So caught up in the headspace that you’re going to pretend you don’t want out.) My mind thought a thousand different things about why I would not ask him to let me go. The whole time I knew the reality: It didn’t matter that I wanted out. If AR wanted to let me out, he would, and when he does, he will. Deal with it. It must have been another hour that went by. It got really, really cold. I began to shiver. The trembling went on for almost that whole time when AR opened the door again to check on me. I told him that it was cold. He said OK and decided that I was ready for a change.

A Pad and a Jacket

AR spoke well of me and the next thing I knew, I was out of the chains. He brought my leather straight jacket in and I thought about how merciful it was given that I felt so cold. AR took me to the padded cell and told me to get in. The floor was thick padding as were the walls. There was sound insulation on the ceiling. When he closed the door, the padding connected seamlessly. If I were to have woken up in there without recollection of how I got in there, I wouldn’t have known which part was the door. I heard the bolts throw into place and I knew I was sealed in.

I’ve been in padded cells before. It’s not tough to get comfortable. I sat down and put my head against the wall. It was seconds before I drifted. I was exhausted. I was beaten, sexually spent, emotionally twisted, physically tired, and mentally reeling at my own response to this entire scenario. Above all of it, an overwhelming feeling of comfort and security overrode me. I had no concerns at all. There wasn’t any reason I should worry about anything because I was in no position to do anything about anything. I slept for I don’t know how long until AR opened the door and called me to him.

Dinner and Torture Before Bed

AR got me out of the straight jacket and muzzle and called me into the dungeon where half of a sandwich was waiting for me. It was dinner time. I ate ravenously like I had never eaten before. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until my first bite. I inhaled that thing! AR tried to get me into a sleep sack that we decided was way too small for me, so we aborted that and he took me to my cell. There was an eye bolt in the floor so he cuffed me behind my back and took a second set of cuffs to the eye bolt, locking me to the floor. To fuck with me, he put a set of keys on the cot in front of me. I asked him if he wanted me to make use of them. AR said I should, clearly challenging something he thought I couldn’t do. I quickly grabbed the keys with my mouth and threw them to the floor behind me. I picked them up and tried to get them into the keyway on the cuffs. No luck, but I had been slimming down and I was determined. I managed to slip my cuffs to the front. There, I was able to carefully drop the key into the keyway and turn it, freeing myself. AR was both impressed and annoyed.

My punishment for my success was to be cuffed spread eagle to the outside of my cell door. Fuck this: I had had it. I was so fucking tired that I didn’t think I could stand on my own two feet anymore. Once again though, I noticed that my dumb ass cock was sitting there throbbing and oozing. I really did enjoy this kind of treatment. I pulled and jerked on the cuffs as if it was going to do something. All it did was allow me a physical outlet for my frustration. I wasn’t going anywhere without his key or my gnawing my arm off. About 30 minutes must have gone by before AR took me down from there and put me in a locking leather collar and leg irons in addition to the cock lock I wore. He told me it was bed time and locked me in my cell. Mine was the only light he left on, which I’m pretty sure was done to fuck with me. No worry though, the blanket was rough but thick. I settled quickly into a cocoon and plummeted into some of the most needed sleep of my recent life.


To be continued tomorrow …

Metal would like to thank the author, Prisoner805, for this true story!

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