Category Archives: Story

Story

The Shackles of Curiosity – Part 02

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By Peter B. and Art Intelli

A Note from the Author:

This story was originally meant to be a “One Off”, but I received several messages encouraging me to continue this scenario, so here you go… (I hope you enjoy!)

The Walk Home

The city had never felt so loud.

Peter had managed to pull his trench coat up over his shoulders, so that he could wear it like a cape.  He would have been totally fucked if the damn Argento had actually cuffed his hand behind his back as he had said he would.  At the time, Peter was disaapointed.  Now he was elated. But even as it was, the manacles were not really covered beneath his coat when it flapped open, and they glistened like mirrored bracelets. He hid in the wings until it sounded like everyone had gone home, and then he left the theater under cover of night, the cool metal around his ankles clinked softly with each step, echoing off alley walls and empty sidewalks. A few passersby cast him strange looks, but no one stopped. In a city like this, you could walk down the street in chains and people would still pretend not to see.

Continue reading The Shackles of Curiosity – Part 02 →

Story

Double Trouble – Part 06

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By Peter B. and Art Intelli

Chapter Six: The Smell of Rabbit

The sun was just a whisper on the horizon when The Box door was flung open, and he uncurled himself from the box. His back ached. His muscles throbbed. But he stood — slowly, steadily — and looked Sheriff Colt in the eye, expecting him to lock him up for work detail as usual, so he was surprised when Colt slung the leather belt onto his shoulders, and carelessly flung the usual Chain Gang shackles to the ground at his feet.

You’re gonna lock yourself up today Cityboy.  Show us you’re accepting your punishment and your fate…”

No words were exchanged as Peter carefully slid the belt of off his shoulders and strapped it tight around his waist – the half loop positioned in front; then ratcheted the shackles on his ankles which had a vertical chain running up to the belt hasp, and attached to a pair of long chin handcuffs which he was ordered to pass through the hasp, and then  ratchet in place as well.

Continue reading Double Trouble – Part 06 →

Story

Vincent_en

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By NisTaeN

Note from Metal: This is a copyrighted story by NisTaeN, who is pictured above and below. The author has granted permission for this story to appear on the Metalbond site starting today. It is also available on the author’s FetLife page in both French and German. This is the English language version.

Introduction

Vincent is a young man with prison fantasies like many others. He is gay and lives it very well. He regularly visits dating sites, mainly because he’s bored. It passes the time and allows him to meet interesting people. Of course, sometimes the encounters end up in bed, but that’s not really what he’s looking for.

Copyright Notice

This original work, including any translations, is protected under copyright laws of the European Union, the United States, and all countries that are parties to the Berne Convention for the Protection of Literary and Artistic Works.

The story is published here with the explicit permission of the author.

Unauthorized reproduction, distribution, or adaptation of this work in any form without written permission from the author is prohibited. All rights reserved.

***

Vincent_en by NisTaeN One day, he was contacted by someone in his fifties. He was neither handsome nor ugly, but as Vincent had nothing to do, he answered and the conversation began. At first, it’s a fairly boring conversation. At the same time, Vincent is watching videos on the internet and answers from time to time to get the conversation going again. The man asks him what he does for a living. Vincent doesn’t really like answering and simply says that he’s an IT student, but that doesn’t work out too well. Then he asks him what he does for a living. His answer: “I run a high-security prison.” This immediately excited Vincent and gave him ideas. He doesn’t know what to say, but he’d love to see a real prison and even more… He just replies that it’s very interesting for a lot of people and even fascinating. The conversation goes on for hours. Little by little, it becomes clearer that if possible, Vincent would like to visit the prison. The man doesn’t give a straight answer and Vincent wants to know whether it’s possible or not.

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Story

Corporate Takeover – Chapter 06

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Note from Metal: This is a “fan imagined” conclusion to the story Corporate Takeover by lthr_jock. To start at the very beginning of this story, which originally appeared in the Prison Library back in 2020, click for Part 1.

By @bdsmsubrex

Brian woke to the familiar hum of the Blu-ray, his body encased in the leather harness and jockstrap, the scent of leather and sweat mingling with the lingering memory of Ken’s cigar smoke. His cock strained against the tight jockstrap, a constant reminder of his arousal. The supplements on the nightstand beckoned, but he hesitated, a flicker of unease cutting through the haze. He shook it off, popped two tablets, and headed to Ironworks, his mind already drifting to the next visit to Cuir Experience.

At the shop, Dave greeted him with a knowing grin, his leather vest stretched tight across his muscled chest. “Brian, you’re becoming a regular,” Dave said, leaning on the counter. “You’ve done us a solid — buying up the estate to save Boltz and this place.” Brian nodded, his chest swelling with pride, though the supplements dulled his usual sharpness. “As a thank you,” Dave continued, his tone shifting to command, “you’re to attend a weekend training with Master William, the local BDSM Master. Starts tomorrow. Be at Boltz at 6 PM sharp. Understood?”

Continue reading Corporate Takeover – Chapter 06 →

Story

It started with Mitts –Part 16

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By Bondagegimp

Dusk

At some point, the sun reaches the horizon – a wonderful play of colors enchants sky and landscape. I turn to Bob. He looks at me with a loving yet slightly sad gaze and kisses me passionately again. As soon as the sun has set, he reaches for the muzzle and puts it on me – this time without a gag, just with the padded leather shell. It doesn’t completely prevent me from speaking, but it’s so tight that I can only open my mouth with difficulty, and my words are very muffled.

Bob stands up, gets a chain and locks: He attaches one end of the chain to the chain between my ankle cuffs, and the other somewhere on my back to the straitjacket. The chain is long enough that I can still kneel, but I can no longer walk. Now Bob starts to clear away the dishes from the picnic. Since he’s leaving me in the straitjacket and has also tied my feet, I can’t help him. So, I just sit there, enjoy the warm evening air and watch Bob collect everything and put it in boxes.

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Story

Double Trouble – Part 05

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By Peter B. and Art Intelli

Chapter Five: Trial by Sun

The Texas sun showed no mercy.

By midmorning, Peter’s shirt was soaked through and caked with the red grit of the land. Iron chains clinked and dragged with every labored step — the ankle shackles heavy, the transport belt tight around his waist, locking his collar and wrists in a web of rusted links.

The twins had not spoken much since dawn. They simply watched. One from horseback, the other from the shade of a fencepost, arms crossed, aviators hiding any flicker of expression.

Peter dug.

The hole was pointless — not for a post, not for irrigation — just a pit in the earth, three feet wide, three feet deep, then deeper still. Blisters tore open across his palms. His shoulders screamed. The collar bit deeper into his neck every time he bent forward.

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Story

It started with Mitts –Part 15

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By Bondagegimp

Visit

We’re lying on the large blanket in the garden. I feel the sun on my skin. Yes, on my skin! For once, I’m not wearing a rubber suit. My skin is allowed to breathe, at least partially. But my head is once again wrapped in the thickly padded leather hood. The earplugs are still in, as is the gag, and my eyes are still taped shut. But the rubber hood has also been removed. And I’m in the rubber straitjacket. But at least I’m not wearing a suit underneath.

My legs are spread quite wide, almost painfully wide, with a spreader bar. My head is in Bob’s lap. Jad sits or lies a little further down, near my legs. When Bob strokes my head, it creates a noise in the hood, a whooshing or scratching. This drowns out all other sounds. Only when Bob isn’t touching my head at all can I hear a little bit of what’s outside. Not much; I just hear muffled voices. Bob and Jad are talking. Sometimes they laugh. I can’t understand a word, but I get a certain vibe.

Continue reading It started with Mitts –Part 15 →

Story

It started with Mitts –Part 14

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By bondagegimp

The small cell

Bob leaves the room. I’m completely exhausted, only slowly catching my breath. I’d love to sit or lie down, but I’m still strapped into the frame: the collar holds my head, the plug is still drilling into my hole, my hands are tied behind the bar. The cords from my nipples and balls to the head harness are taut, and every movement of my head causes severe pain. But at least the treadmill is off.

I’d like to see what Bob is doing, but turning my head is completely out of the question. The pain is most bearable when I stand completely still, not moving at all. But I can still feel it, a throbbing pain in my nipples and hole. My balls are the easiest to release. My urethra burns a little from the semen that pushed past the catheter. My legs are shaking from the exertion; I have no choice but to lower myself onto the plug until I’m practically sitting on it, and it’s supporting some of my weight.

Once again, it was an incredible orgasm that Bob painfully forced out of me. When he held my head so tightly, I felt an incredible sense of security, yet at the same time it was incredibly oppressive. It really was like a nightmare, when you’re running away and can’t move. And then all his talking about how I’ll always stay with him, how he won’t let me go. Did he mean it? Was he going to leave me no choice? Was he just going to keep me? Was it a mistake to put myself in his hands again? Bob called it trauma therapy. But really, it was a punishment for my escape and a barely disguised threat. How does he manage to make me horny while doing that?

Continue reading It started with Mitts –Part 14 →