By ty dehner
The Yuma Territorial Prison was used in the early days of the foundation of Arizona Territory. As you can imagine it was a brutal place to be locked up at during the long hot summer of the desert. Now a State Park, there is very little left of the original prison, but there are some parts — and that is what my photos show. Interestingly, there are still graffiti from the former inmates on some of the walls.
By Aussielthrbiker
I was on vacation on Santiago, Chile. It was a great city and I loved just walking around just being a part of the city. I was walking through the pedestrian area in the city centre when I passed a Carabineros (police) van. The two officers beside the van were like many Chilean men, dark haired, brown eyed and very cute. As I passed one of them called something to me in Spanish. My Spanish isn’t very good and I turned and automatically responded “Huh?” He then repeated in English, “May I see your passport please.” I remembered reading that I was supposed to carry my passport at all times but I’d left it in the safe in my hotel room – I explained this to officers and offered to show them another form of ID.
Hey, Pig!
By Kevin’s Path
“Hey, pig!”
I hear but don’t see him come in. My blinders are on. He asks if I’d like a drink of water or anything, and I move my head up and down. Of course I do. I’m often thirsty and hungry and feeling dehydrated and can’t afford to miss a chance for a drink. He feels my forehead to see if I am warm. He pats my head.
I’ve been boxed up most of the day. I mean this literally. I am locked up in a box with my head sticking out of a hole in the top of it. There is a thick padded collar around my neck where it comes out of the hole. The padded collar supports my head and neck all around and keeps my chin up. I can move my head up and down a little for “yes” and right and left a little for “no.” The other one thing I’m allowed to do is sniff with my nose. Two sniffs means “thank you.”
By MetalbondNYC
A quick recap: It all started a few years back when I signed up for a personal training program. On just the second day when I worked out with Bryan, I was at the gym for more than four hours, and the workout not only included the actual workout, but being used sexually as well. In the locker room after the personal training session, that first week, I was subjected to bondage, forced nudity, discipline and humiliation — plus a very cruel and painful form of chastity. As I said, that was just the first week. Things got even worse from there. It was sort of like slipping down a rabbit hole. Or, as my buddy Mark would say, getting caught in quicksand.
By Mister-X / Spartan
Brad started loading his stock into his van. His partner, Jay, just stood watching. Jay was taller than Brad, about 6’ 4”, looked like a football tight end with his muscular 245 pounds, but Brad didn’t want him helping to load, since Jay didn’t know what came next and where to put it. It was easier for Brad to load everything himself, even though it was a lot harder since he had a metal collar with foot long chains attached that were padlocked onto his wrists, restraints that Jay had put on him that morning, going over the PVC suit which covered him from chin to ankle along with the thick ankle shackles with the foot long chain between that went over his boots. It was what Jay required Brad to wear during a normal day at home, and with the physical exertion of loading the ton of stock into the van while wearing all that, he was sweating heavily in the nighttime heat and humidity.
By Strappeddown
There were a number of small gifts from my boyfriend, but when I opened the athletic cup, I was a little confused. It seemed like an odd gift. He had smiled, and said it was for a “chastity game” he wanted to play with me.
That had been last Christmas, and I soon found out what he had meant. Occasionally, throughout the year, he would ask me to put on the cup, and the chastity rules would start. The rules were simple, I had to wear the athletic cup continuously until he gave me permission to stop. I could pull it down piss, and when I was taking a shower, but I was under no circumstances allowed to touch myself during those times, and I wasn’t allowed to remove the cup until he gave me permission.
By Pisslurper
I had been gone on a business trip for about 9 days. I jerked off on Sunday night in the hotel, and vowed not to jerk off on Monday night because I was coming home to my boyfriend on Tuesday evening. Surfing porn on the internet (especially the hot stories and pics on METALBOND) made me pretty horny. Before I got on the plane Tuesday, I emailed my boyfriend and asked him to set out The Punisher, handcuffs, and leg irons for me when I got home. I landed around 9:00 PM and was getting myself worked up on the drive home from the airport thinking about having my cock locked in the Punisher. This was Tuesday evening, and my plan was to have my boyfriend lock my cock in it when I got home and stay in it until I went back to work on Thursday morning, if I could stand it. My previous record in The Punisher had been 24 hours. Well, I am writing this on Friday evening, and my cock is still locked in it — almost 72 hours so far, and no end in sight!
By Boyinacage
Part I – Mike
My name is Michael. Sorry, my name was Michael. I used to be a lad. 100% Alpha, I’d stick my cock in whether the guy was willing or not, if the hole was there, I’d take it. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed getting a good fuck too, but on my own terms and time. When I wasn’t out humiliating some other lad with my cock you’d find me at Romeo’s Bath house playing pool, or at the Eagle doing the same. If I couldn’t humiliate you with sex, I’d do it at pool.
If you lost to me at pool, you paid the price. There was always a bet. If you were lucky you’d get down on your knees and blow me off in front of the bar. One poor sod went for the best of five, ratcheting up the humiliation bank with each game on a wet Friday night many years ago. The poor preppy, he ended up naked, hand-cuffed and wearing a spider gag in the last stall at the back of Romeo’s lower basement. Good spot, very dark, and the staff never went there. Don’t know how, or when, he got out, although I did tip off Josh, the guy behind the bar who owned Romeo’s, after l had dropped in on the Sunday afternoon to piss down the loser’s throat. Deep down I’m the sharing, caring sort.
