Even after the officers wrestle him to the ground and yank his clothes off revealing his fit hairy body the young offender still talks back. Completely overpowered by the uniformed constables his cock and ass are given a full inspection. All the rough-housing soon shows as his skin blushes red and the masculine hunk sweats from the strain of being held down.
To see more, click for CMNM
Check out the pictures and information below from a blog reader:
Hey Metal, hows life?
I just got back from a week out field, my uniform I wore out there would keep even the most gunge-loving piglet happy! Three more washes and I should be able to wear it again.
Anyway my most recent purchase is something I think you would enjoy a lot, hence this email. I know how much you adore padlocks, and locking metal restraints. Well one of my most favorite pieces of kit is my locking ball weights, you know the metal ones that you need an allen key to take on and off? I call them locking since an allen key is not something you always have access to.
Fetters in UK bought out a range with a recessed groove in them, and then a variety of attachments for them. I have two of the attachments so far and aim to get the third, well-marketed (i.e., you want it but it will cost you!) the latest one I brought adds an extra layer of entrapment to the device, it is a locking collar that fits around the groove, I have a pic of it attached and in use on my nuts, let me tell you that thing is on tight, you have no chance of slipping it off over the weight unless it is unlocked.
I hope you enjoy these pics and that you’re doing well!
— anonymous
Thanks, anonymous, for the information and pictures!
Power Exchange
A true story by bndgkink
Maybe it is time to post something about myself and my sexual history, in case someone might be interested.
i was a fairly arrogant top for many years.
i am now embarrassed by my way of being so.
i was very amateurish.
i was well to do at the time and buff.
i had a large home with a well stocked dungeon.
i had a herd of young boys as slaves
i had one though that was different.
i had basically groomed him from a street urchin .
he was twenty-four when i met him
he wasn’t strong and buff
he had a raspy voice due to child hood surgeries.
his chest was a mass of scars
he drove a beat up old car.
he lived in a dump of an apartment.
he went back to school
he went to college
and on to grad school.
he really didn’t go into his desires etc
he was the first slave that i wanted as 24/7
he was the only one i ever wanted 24/7
he was a quick learner.
he was smart
he was the perfect sex slave
he knew what to do and when to do it.
but
he would not move in or agree to 24/7
he would be graduating in the late spring.
he was the one i had been looking for
he was everything i wanted
he was incredible
he was indespensable.
he was my biggest frustration.
he seemed to be measuring me one night with his fingers.
he said he was figuring out what size to get for my Xmas present
he was so cute about it that i told him to measure away.
he was very upset at Xmas because my present didn’t arrive yet
he wasn’t consoled that i wasn’t upset
he smiled when i told him a great blow job would do.
He showed up on a rainy Valentine’s Day.
He had a present and card for me.
He had measured me for a “bill jones” chastity belt.
He politely corrected me when i thought it was for him.
He didn’t flinch when i became angry that it was for me
He only commented that
if i could wear it for a month and remain dominant in every other way he would agree to be a 24/7 slave no questions asked.
but if i did not, He had the keys.
i knew he couldn’t go 24 hours with out sucking me off
i knew he would need me out in a day or two
i lasted less than a fraction of a second after the second lock clicked shut.
i watched and felt the instantaneous exchange of power in total horror.
i grabbed something to cover my embarrassment and shame (crotch)
i realized it covered nothing important any more.
i looked at Him in terror.
He half smiled and said he would come by in the morning to check on me.
He then just turned and left.
i for once was without words.
i just stood there in horror for the longest time.
i then fussed with it trying without success to get it off.
i was on my knees begging him for it to come off the following night.
i sucked him off for the first time hoping for a release
i remained locked, “anyway,” for the next three years
i was always secured down when it was removed for cleaning.
i only experienced orgasms through prostate massage
i never experienced an orgasm stroking like a real man.
i was cleaned and milked at least once a week.
He never moved in but had complete run of my house.
i spent weekends locked in “my” cage in “my” dungeon
i spent summer weekends chained to a tree in “my” back yard naked
except for the belt.
i lost the ability to become erect after a few months.
i would moan and groan when being milked but cum only oozed out.
i would be secured and then milked for amusement of His friends.
i felt the humiliation of former slaves seeing me caged or milked.
i felt the humiliation of former slaves laughing as i only moaned
and oozed cum.
i felt the humiliation of servicing former slaves
i felt the out rage of watching Him have sex with my former slaves and others from my cage.
i felt the outrage and jealousy of watching him while chained to a tree make love and have sex in my pool at night only to be left out there while He went inside and played in “my” dungeon with them.
i learned to get over it.
i learned to be grateful for the times i was allowed to service him.
i learned to be grateful for the attention i received.
i learned to be grateful for him showing me my true identity.
i began to respect him for being smarter in every way
i watched him become the point blank hottest Dom around.
i felt the honor of being his number one slave.
i began to crave his control
i only wanted his control
i only needed his control
i only desired to please him
i was able to concentrate on my business and it went from successful to incredibly successful.
i was to the world this powerhouse business man
i was to him and the gay S/M community a sub human sex slave.
i felt so content and happy with things the way they were.
He graduated from grad school and became a nurse in the local hospital OR.
i was so proud to be his slave and be the only person he asked to attend his graduation.
He began to talk about removing my balls when he massaged my prostrate
He would talk about how i didn’t need them anyway.
He talked about how life would be without them
He talked about how i wouldn’t need to wear the belt
He talked only of that every time i had an orgasm for close to two years.
He talked about how with his training he knew how to make it happen.
He talked about how he knew how to turn me into an “it”
He warned me that one night He would just do it
He warned me that every ograsm could be my last.
i began to associate cumming with castration
Then one night He came over and was very distraught.
He showed me a letter.
He had been offered an incredible job that only a fool would refuse.
He would have to move to distant city if He accepted it.
i knew He needed to accept the job.
He knew i had a business to run and a mother in a nursing home to look after etc.
We discussed our options … actually He went over them and I listened as i had learned to do.
i did comment that He really need to accept the position.
He said He would need to return the key.
i begged Him to keep it.
He said that was not an option.
Two weeks later He left town.
i was devastated, especially when i found the keys on the kitchen table.
i spent six months weaning myself out of the chastity belt
i felt naked and vunerable without it.
i spent another six months getting an erection and cumming per stroking.
i spent years learning to cum with out thinking of castration.
i considered donating mine to a man i knew who had a ball collection.
i didn’t go through with it.
i felt like a wimp for not going through with it.
i became despondent
i went into shock and depression a few months later when my mother passed.
i began having trouble with my business
i was totally wiped out financially when some guys took my business
i lost the big house thanks to them also.
i was broke living in my van
i was taken in by a friend.
i was to proud to contact Him.
i began to get stable again.
i was living out east
i was still struggling financially
i got a phone call a couple years later
it was a friend in common who had run into him
Who mentioned He wanted to see me again.
i didn’t think twice
i put on the belt and drove 800 miles plus on the outside chance He did want to see me.
WE looked at each other and i handed him the keys before either spoke.
WE were so right together.
He was so right for me
i was so right for him.
WE made love all night.
He came several times.
i didn’t, i couldn’t , and that was how it should be.
i returned home the next day driving 800 miles back.
i cried the whole way.
He had said i would hear from him soon.
He had a strange hesitancy in his voice.
i didn’t understand.
i received a certified letter a few weeks later.
it contained 1 key
it was from a close friend of His.
it said that He had to have surgery to re-correct child hood problems
it said that He had not survived the surgery
it said that He had ask that this key be sent to me
That i should unlock what ever was locked and remove it.
it said He had been buried with the other key.
it closed with the writer saying that he never understood what went on between Him and i but he knew it was incredibly intense.
i cried for weeks
i buried the key in my family plot close to my stone
i still keep his picture on my altar years later.
my altar years later.
THE END
Metal would like to thank bndgkink for sharing this.
If you liked Straight Hell, you will definitely want to check out their re-branded site, BreederFuckers!
Click for BreederFuckers
Hey prisoners, have you been catching up on your reading in the Prison Library? I hope so. Just remember, for those of you who are locked in chastity, there will be NO MERCY shown if the stories make you uncomfortably hard in your cock cages.
For those of you who are interested in locker room bullying (of the homoerotic/bondage variety) you might want to check out Locker Room Tales – Never a Jock by Marknorth. This is a story that I just migrated from the old site, so check it out.
Good news for those who like this story: There will be TWO brand-new installments of Locker Room Tales coming to Metalbond, so keep checking back often.
Hey guys, Marknorth is spending Independence Day with a chain collar locked on. It’s not the tightest of collars, but you gotta give the guy credit for trying. He also sent a true-life self-bondage story, which is below the picture.
By Marknorth
Dear Metal,
I spent the night before Independence Day in a chain collar. It reminded me of the loss of freedom.
Several weeks ago I had a weekend with no obligations or plans, so I decided to use the time to do a self-bondage lock-down in my cell.
Put in the usual supply of water and protein shakes – and straws.
Let my dick choose the length of time to be locked away – 18 hours.
Utilized the typical set-up; padded hood, leather cuffs (ankle and wrist), leather collar (2” fetters), all locked and linked by heavy chains. Secured a chain from the ankles to the I-bolt, making escape from the cell impossible, without using the “fail safe” key. No cock-lock, just an under armour jock and cup.
I decided to wear racing leathers and boots to complete the experience. Love the way the leathers fit – tight in all the right places.
Was in the cell and had everything locked on by 6:00 pm Friday night – having forgone dinner to avoid a call from nature.
No escape until the keys dropped from the mag-lock at around noon on Saturday.
My hard-on usually doesn’t dissipate for several hours after the initial lock-down; so the struggle within the hard-cup adds some discomfort – although not as much as a chastity cage.
It didn’t take long to start to heat up inside the hood and leathers, but that was to be expected.
Since there is no way to mark time, it is hard to tell exactly when it starts to become uncomfortable and the “real” lock-up begins as the initial “buzz” wears off; but that is the point, after all – it’s not bondage until you want out.
This was the first time that I had worn the leathers for a lock-up of more than a few hours, and it was apparent that they were going to add a level of discomfort that was unexpected – especially the increase in body heat.
Also found out that getting to my dick to piss was a serious amount of work – the zipper on the leathers doesn’t extend quite far enough to allow for moving the hard cup out of the way easily.
So every time I had to piss was a frustrating struggle. Didn’t test that part out ahead of time – an error on my part, as I usually consider all the possibilities and test them out before locking things in place. This time, though, it didn’t seem like it would be an issue ahead of time.
So, time passed, the level of discomfort increased making it hard to sleep. I know I dozed off but not for long periods.
Of course, as the discomfort builds, so does the frustration of not being able to get free.
It soon became a series of attempts to find a way to get more comfortable – pacing, kneeling, sitting, laying down on the cot trying to sleep. Nothing was working and the frustration continued to build.
For the first time in a long time the thought of having to use the “fail safe” kept coming to the forefront.
I love the leathers, love the hood, and love being locked up – but for some reason the combination that night was making me overly miserable – and I wasn’t sure that I could make it for the duration.
As more time passed it became apparent to me that I needed to get out and get relief.
Eventually I caved in. My “fail safe” key is kept in a large plastic juice bottle that is filled with motor oil. The opening is too small to stick my hand in, so it needs to be poured out to get to the key. That creates an unbelievable mess on the floor! But my frustration overcame what I knew would be a long and tedious clean-up.
I dumped the oil out and got the key – regretting that step already.
That key opens the lock box with the necessary keys to remove the restraints.
Once I had the locks off and removed the restraints and hood – and the leathers and boots, I left the cell (frustrated at the mess and for failing to make the full 18 hours).
I almost screamed when I looked at the clock – it was 10:50 am – I would have only made it a little over an hour more before I would have been freed!!
Now I was really pissed at myself – such a fucking wuss!!!
Cleaning up the oil took over an hour – and it stained the concrete on the cell floor.
The mess confirmed the “price” for using the “fail safe” – it’s there for an emergency – it worked as needed and verified that I would always be able to get out of the restraints quickly should that emergency arise (something that I have never had to test before).
Lesson learned – man-up and tough it out – I’ve done it many times before. I’m going to do it many times more.
I’ll be punishing myself with a longer lock up with the same set-up in near the future.
Thought you might get a kick out of that episode – I wasn’t going to share it with you because is somewhat embarrassing. Was the first time that I wimped out in a self-lock-up and I have spent so much more time locked up under those circumstances.
Your continued prisoner,
Mark
Metal would like to thank Marknorth for the account above.
Check out these images from Fossil9:
This man definitely knows how to keep a prisoner locked up securely! You can see more at his blog, BOUND by Fossil9