By CellShocked

Usually, it’s the decisions that I make quickly and then act upon them that are my best decisions.  This telling will emphasize how a recent weekend (09/10/21 – 9/13/21) will have forever changed my life.

I live in an area that is not completely rural but doesn’t have much going on either.  I live right off of an interstate and can be in Boston in a couple hours, NYC is a 5-hour bus ride away, Manchester airport is an hour and a half away, so I can get to places.  But where would I go?  I absolutely hate going somewhere alone.  Now don’t misunderstand, I can travel alone but it’s the destination.  I need someone to force me to do new things.  I am so passive that I have let the world pass me by for the past 45 years.  I failed to take risks and really take that leap of faith.  The only way I can rationalize it is that anxiety and depression have owned my emotions all of my life.

With that being said, you can deduce that my life has been mundane.  I do have to say that I have done things.  I have four college degrees and doctoral credits.  I am a paramedic, I was a police officer and I even had my real estate license once upon a time.  I have always looked for what’s next.  That’s probably due to the ADD that I just recently found out I have.  If I had only known many years ago, it could have put me on a different trajectory.  I get to NYC at least once a year.  I’ve been to DC twice and Orlando once.  But that’s it.  In fact until this past weekend I hadn’t been outside of the EST time zone ever.  Yep, ever.

That pretty much establishes the scene of what brought me to this experience and traveling to Iowa of all places.  Like many people on this planet I have fetishes.  Mine just happen to be uniforms, prison, jails, restraints and heavy bondage.  I didn’t realize this until I went to college and had access to the internet for the first time.  I searched for keywords that interested me.  Handcuffs, police, uniforms, things like that.  Eventually it led me to some pretty substantial websites that were full of this stuff.  I saw who the major players were and knew whom to follow. Throughout the years, I would keep returning to those websites and discover many more interests.  All of this online searching opened up doors to the feelings I had always had.  It also provided me with clarity that I was certainly not alone and the 20-something-year-old in the north country of New Hampshire had never been exposed to much, at all.

This will get boring quickly if I don’t fast forward and give you the gist of it.  I don’t play much.  I don’t date very often.  I am very much alone up here.  Everyone on Scruff, Grindr, etc., shames me for my interests.  I usually stick to Recon and FetLife and pray someone moves nearby and has similar interests.  Oh, I suppose it’s important to know that I can’t look at guys younger than me and get hard.  It has to be someone my age or older and usually stocky.

I think you’re caught up now and have enough exposition to bring us up to a couple of weeks ago. I think it was a Sunday morning and I was bored out of my mind.  In fact, I had been going through a relapse in my depression and was having some awkward mood swings.  My phone doesn’t ring much, so I am often left to my infrequent online chats.  Well this day was different.

Over the years I have visited the website metalbondnyc.com.  I would usually find a good story and jerk off to it and then move on with my day. However, on this day, I logged on and noticed that Metal had linked to a website I had never seen before.  I clicked on it and my mind was blown.  I saw so many similar interests because the webmaster had made some great videos and there’s pictures and shopping links.  I spent some time just surfing and taking it all in and noticed that there was a contact pop-up on the bottom of the screen.  I told myself that I had to congratulate this guy on putting together a unique and mind-blowing website.  So I draftethat message and hit send, not thinking that I would ever hear back.  Interestingly enough, about five minutes later he messages me back.

Now he hasn’t said this to me, but I feel like I annoyed the fuck out of him that day.  He was so nice and kept responding as I emailed again and again.  Any other person would have said, dude settle down and give me a break.  But this guy was a trouper and kept on answering all of my questions.  We were both videographers and were not only talking kink shop but storytelling through the visual medium as well.  It was nice to talk about both things with one person.

Alright I’m doing another gist, because this is stupidly long.  He and I kept on chatting.  He invited me to a telegram group.  I start chatting with his other buddies that have also been to Iowa and the next thing I know I’m being invited to go for the weekend for an informal roleplay weekend. Roleplay?  What place am I talking about?

Okay, they had visited the hamptonjail.com facility a bunch of times.  They were regulars and an opening in the schedule opened up and they thought I should go with them.  I had to go. I was and still am so damn naive I didn’t really look into these guys that had invited me across the country to do PRISON roleplay with.  Here’s where I loop back to the beginning. I made a quick decision that I had little time to think about, and that decision was one of the best I’ve ever made.

One of the guys is gracious enough to get me roundtrip tickets to this place.  AND THE DUDE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW ME.  Can you imagine how good-hearted a person has to be to do something like that?  Damn dude.  I’m busy working that week and thinking about what I should bring.  It actually became too overwhelming, so I just threw a bunch of clothes in a carry-on and was ready to go.  I had a day on Friday the 10th and then headed to the airport.  The guy with the website is also flying in and they would pick me up in Des Moines.

So I work a half of a day and fly from Manchester, N.H., to Chicago, which I’ve never been to.  I have a short layover and grab some food and hop onto my next plane to Des Moines.  When I get there I message the guys to say I’m here, and they reply they are outside waiting.  Now, these men will be known as Officer Pitbull and Officer Shackle. So I head out, and there they are, looking just like they did in various pictures and videos. For me, flying across the country was a relief that I wasn’t catfished.  We say our quick hellos and get in the car as we have an hour and a half drive to this small town called Hampton.

We’re driving and these guys are just as nice as they were via texts.  They had my complete trust and I felt incredibly safe.

UNTIL.

Officer Shackle says, “Hey, can you pull over? I have to take a piss.” Pitbull turns off the highway and then a farm road that’s next to a cornfield in the middle of nowhere.  There is a trailer about 500 feet away, so they drive down where the corn hid what we were doing. Shackle gets out of the car and walks toward the back.  I’m not thinking anything of it and just chilling in the back seat.

WELL…

Then Officer Shackle opens my door and tells me to get out and I’m under arrest.  I guess the roleplay was starting.  Now again, I’m a super passive guy and sometimes naïve, . so I get out of the car and they’re both surrounding me.  Officer Shackle handcuffs me in the front and Pitbull grabs a black box and quickly shoves it over the cuffs and then attaches a transport chain, effectively keeping my hands close to my body.  As Shackle holds me, Pitbull grabs some shackles and locks them around my ankles.  Next, they’re pushing me back into the car.  Needless to say I was rather speechless.  They hop in and we get back on the highway.  Pitbull and Shackle are all smiles as they gloat about the fact that they just got me.

Our drive lasted maybe another half an hour.  On arrival, Shackle yanks me out of the car and marches me around the front of the building toward the intake door.  As you enter, you’re in a small room and see a holding cell right in front of you.  The officers didn’t waste any time tossing me in there. Here’s where the breaking down of a prisoner begins.  My restraints are unlocked, I sign my roleplay agreement and then get locked into the holding cell.  Officer Pitbull begins to order me to take my clothes off one by one as they are inventoried and secured.  Finally, I am standing there naked just as any prisoner would be upon being processed into a jail or prison. I believe I was told the rules of the jail and was given my Prisoner number at that time. My number was D21013.  (I didn’t remember the number at the time and still don’t remember the four rules.  I imagine this will come back to haunt me the next time I go back.)

By this time it was getting late and my memory is a bit fuzzy, but I believe I was then given some boxer shorts, handcuffed and taken to the shower.  Shackle orders me to remove my boxers and tells me to cover my eyes.  He says it is to “delouse” me and advises that I should absolutely cover my eyes because it will hurt.  Now I haven’t asked them if this really happened, but I like to think it did.  I do know it was cold.  Officer Shackle tells me to take a shower and wash the stuff off of me.

When done, Shackle cuffed me in the front and walked me out of the shower area.  Pitbull meets me and states that I’m being given a blanket, a sheet, a pillow, pillowcase, a steel cup, silverware and some basic hygiene supplies.  I was told if I misplaced the silverware I would be screwed and not given another set.  Shackle asks me what the rules of the facility are and I can’t remember them.  I’m yelled at. I think they repeated them to me?  I was asked what my prisoner number was again and that has also evaded me.  So Shackle takes a marker and writes it on my arm in big, bold letters.

Officer Shackle leads me to a cell and locks me in.  I think that’s when I was given some socks and an orange jumpsuit with PRISONER stenciled onto it.  I think that was the right order?  Anyway, it’s late at this point and I’m basically told its lights out and locked in an actual jail cell.  So I took a moment and sat there and reflected on what got me to a small town in Iowa.  (While things were coming to a close I do have to say that being a first timer, they gave me some support.  They broke character for a little bit to make sure I was okay and felt safe before they continued on.  I advised them that I was good and the play resumed.) I spent some time processing everything and the lights were shut off and I was left on my own.  (They do have monitors to assure you are okay.)  So there I sat, in a prisoner jumpsuit, wearing shackles (which don’t really come off during your incarceration) until I laid down and tried to get some sleep.   I have insomnia anyway, so it took me a while to get to sleep.

I did fall asleep and was sleeping very soundly.

UNTIL…

Officer Shackle decides to be a prick and do a cell check after what seemed like an hour or two.  He aggressively turns on the lights and yells for me to get up and face the back of the cell.  I’m already sleep deprived and trying to follow commands, but it takes me a couple seconds to process.  Once his cell check is finished and Shackle is all proud of himself, he leaves the block and shuts off the light.  I attempted to fall back asleep, but that didn’t really happen.  I knew it was going to be a long day today.

Sometime during the night the owner, the infamous Bind, was brought into the block and placed into solitary which was the cell next to mine.

The day started around 0700.  That’s when I got to meet Bind for the very first time.  Before we were allowed out of our cells, Bind started to make small talk with me.  For years I had watched his videos and searched through his site, but the man was standing in a cell next to me.  Shackle let us out of our cells and brought us breakfast.  This goes on for about 20 minutes and Bind and I are sitting across from each other and he just tells me more about the roleplay, his facility, what he’s up to et cetera.  It was an amazing conversation.

Breakfast finishes up and Shackle puts me back into my cell.  They had other plans for Bind and took him away for something.  I’m not sure what to do really, so I decided to see what happens if I give Shackle a hard time, so I start getting mouthy.  Around this time, Officer Pitbull transforms into Prisoner Pitbull and gets put in the cell next to me.  He starts playing off of me, and we’re going back and forth.  Shackle is starting to get irritated with me and well, that got me put in the prison restraint/transport chair.

This was a cool experience. But I’m stuck.  My wrists are strapped down, my biceps, I’m still in leg irons but my ankles are also strapped down.  I think straps went around my shoulders and my neck.  Ultimately, I’m not moving an inch and I really tried.  Well I still feel pretty boisterous and I start going back and forth with Pitbull, but even louder.  He returns the favor and starts in on me and keeps needling.  I’m yelling back, yelling at Officer Shackle and just being a dick.  I thought what if I never get this chance again?  I had to take it.

Well, that sort of backfired, because Shackle got sick of it and gave me a few warnings.  A few “fuck yous” later, I ended up with my mouth duct taped shut.  Now I can only mumble.  I’m trying to yell at him, I’m trying to yell at Pitbull and I’m failing miserably.  At that point, the chair is on wheels and I’m rocked backward a few times, and I’m turned around facing the wall.  It’s like these fuckers knew I needed stimulation at all times.  Because they took it away whenever I was craving it.  Did I tell them that?  Did they already know?  Did they pick up on it?  I never asked them.

By this time another friend showed up and was tossed into a cell.  Here’s where the guys started up a scenario of what landed me in prison.  There’s pictures of a burned up car, drugs and a supposed artist rendering that they say looked like me.  (It didn’t look like me but they swear it does.)  But since I was being disobedient in the early AM (I had to see what would happen) the guard was looking for a reason to get me.  When I packed, I was in a rush and just grabbed bottles of medication that I would need and might need.  It legitimately looked like I was a druggie.  One of them was a medication I take for anxiety and depression.  (That’s a long story, maybe for another day). Well I’m not sure where in the day this happened but the guard stated I was going to be evaluated by a doctor as I was a risk to myself.  That landed me in a straitjacket secured to my bunk.  Nothing really came from it, but it was kind of important to the next bit of information.

At some point Officer Shackle cuffed me and marched me downstairs to an interrogation room.  Once there, they push me down into a chair and take the chain to my shackles and anchor them to a point under the table.  There’s a set of handcuffs through a ring that is bolted to the table.  They put those on me which leaves me doubled handcuffed.  They also put a chain around my chest which is attached to the chair. I can’t move.  I’m stuck.  My movement is so limited.   Shackle begins to bring the “scenario” into our roleplay.  He accuses me of robbing a bank, stealing a car, burning the car which also had drugs stashed in it.  Shackle also accuses me of murdering the bank teller or branch manager. He couldn’t decide between the two.

After what felt like an hour, Shackle gets up and leaves me alone in the dark.  Eventually he comes back in and Officer Pitbull comes with him all full of piss and vinegar.  These guys started to berate me for what felt like two, maybe three hours.  Pitbull was definitely more aggressive with me, but they both worked hard to get me to break.  Never having experienced that before I was unsure how to react.  But Shackle kept asking me the same questions and I answered them the same way each time.  While he’s questioning me, Pitbull continues to annoy me by making fun of the fact that I’m shackled to a table and being controlled.  I was beyond frustrated.  I got to the point where I really wanted to punch the two of them.  Seriously I did. They would say one thing that would really piss me off and I tried to leap off the table as I wanted to beat the shit out of them, but I’m fucking handcuffed to the table.  I can’t move.  So the pricks pick up on this and start making fun of me for not being able to move.  Which just pisses me off more.  This cycle carried on for what seemed like awhile.

There was one point where the name calling got interesting, like the time Pitbull called me a douche canoe.  Now, I had never heard that before so I broke character and looked at him and said, “Did you just call me a douche canoe?”  Well Pitbull doesn’t break and keeps on me.  That’s where the new nickname comes in.  Pitbull called me “Teapot.”  Needless to say that did not super please me. This thing goes on and on and finally I’m exhausted, and I just made some shit up to get me out of there.  But then they leave down there still locked to the table.  That felt like another half an hour.  It’s dark, I’m tired, I’m pissed off.  But the two officers went upstairs to talk to the other guy accused of being my accomplice.  Eventually they brought him downstairs and put us face to face.  We go back and forth with this. I’ll blame him and he blames me for this roleplay crime.  He tries to fight the officers and loses.  Some more talk happens.  But Shackle and Pitbull start to realize how exhausted I am.  I’ve gone silent and my head is down so they wrapped it up.They kept asking me if I’m okay and I’m like, yeah, I’m good. They bring me back upstairs and I’m back in a cell and I just had to reflect on what had gone down.

They genuinely thought they had gone too far with this roleplay and felt bad about it.  I told them that I was really fine and just went into a submissive headspace.  It was something I had never felt before and was trying to process it all.  That left me really “vacant.”  I made sure they knew that I was absolutely okay and actually wanted to do it again.

Ultimately we took a break and just shot the shit for a while to talk about what we had just done and other similar events that they had done at the jail.  It was just so enlightening to be sitting in an environment that I have always wanted to be a part of but never had that chance before.  I was making new friends and we’re just shooting the shit.  It was so relaxing and validating.

We end the break and start back into the roleplay again.  That brought on dinner.  Is this where the straitjacket came in?  Damnit, I don’t remember anymore.  I do know that some situational restraint (bondage) was added into the roleplay.  I got to try a piece of equipment that I have seen many of the big-time bondage players use.  It was this steel helmet that cost like a grand or maybe more back in the day and there was one there.  I said to myself I had to try that on.  I have always had this fantasy about being the man in the iron mask.  Being kept as an object and unidentifiable.  The guys were more than willing to accommodate me.  Shackle grabs me and gets me all chained up.  I’m in the helmet and shackled above me outside of the jail cells.  I’m in total heaven at this point.  I started to get into that subspace.  My breathing slowed and I was focused on everything happening around me to obtain stimulus.  I’m able to do a complete 360 and watch the men go around me to get to the equipment room.  They didn’t look at me, they just kept on walking.  It was just incredible.  After like 20 minutes my hands did start to go a little numb, so I asked for a break.  My hands were just lowered in front of me and he walked away.  Which I was totally content with.  I continue in my own little world in this steel helmet and living life.  Maybe an hour later (I’m guessing) my face is starting to itch and I’m getting tired again so I asked Pitbull to let me out and surprisingly he did so. By this point, I’m wiped out.  It had been a long day before, then travel and then little sleep followed by our day today.  I’m led to my cell and locked in and my light was turned off.

I slept slightly better that night, but I’m grumpy.  I was up for what seemed like hours in the dark and the quiet and I was starting to fidget.  I could only see a sliver of the outside and was constantly leaning as far as I could to find out what time it might be.  I finally saw daylight and thought it must be almost 7 a.m. now (wakeup time).  But nope, time kept passing and I’m like, ready to get out of that cell.  Finally, what seemed like a couple hours later, the guard comes in and I’m kind of pissed.  Shackle came up to my cell and I am just doing about anything to show my dissatisfaction with his tardiness.  I’m shaking the bars, refusing to go to the back of the cell, basically anything to disobey him.  He’s pissed and decides I’m not getting out of solitary and makes me eat my breakfast in my cell.  It’s like that Shackle knew I really wanted out and decided to be a bit of a sadist.

Breakfast is over and Shackle leaves me there.  He tends to the other guys and gets them their breakfast and I’m still left stewing.  Finally he comes to me to get me.  Maybe this is where the damn straitjacket came into play?  Kill me.  I wish I could remember.

I was in my cell and Shackle came and got me again and said I was being reprimanded for being insubordinate during the morning wakeup.  I’m cuffed in front, and we march out of the cell block to what I assume is the downstairs area where I spent what seemed like an eternity the day before.  Well we come around the corner and my eyes open wide with shock.  These fuckers have opened up the pit under the floor and there’s some heavy shackles next to it and I’m thinking whatdafuck. This is a small secured area under the floor of the intake room with a wooden door and bars securing it closed.  You only know it’s there if they move a floor mat out of the way.  Shackle points to the pit and says that I’m going in there.  Now, I remember them telling me that it was there, but I had totally forgotten about it.  So I am so in shock that this is about to happen that I shut my mouth and just listen to orders.  Could I have fought and said “hell no!”? Probably.  But keep in mind this is like my prison popping cherry weekend.  I’m just trying to keep my brain in line with everything I was experiencing.  That’s probably why I can’t for the life of me remember when I was put in that damn straitjacket.

I’m told to kick off my slides and I’m helped to the floor and told to put my legs hanging into the pit.  While still cuffed, they put these shackles on me before they removed the cuffs.  I’m then ordered to slide down into the pit.  These shackles I’m locked in have these hella long chains on them.  First the right wrist chain is pulled up and draws my wrist to a locked point against the wall.  I only have a little bit of freedom for movement.  The same thing happens to the left wrist.  Luckily I’m sitting on a pad which is one of those foam mattresses.  I’m told to lie down and scoot my legs down the length of the pit.  At that point they lock the wooden door above me, and I only see a little bit of light.  Which also happened to be annoying as it was a fluorescent light bulb that is shining right in my fucking face.  To add further punishment, they put a grate on top of the wooden door and they walk away. Again, I’m a damn object locked away to be used when they want me and not before.  The shock of my situation is sort of wearing off and I’m conflicted.  Is this the hottest thing that has ever been done to me or am I just pissed they got me again?  I went with the latter emotion.

They check on me every now and then, and I call them pricks. They scrape their boots over the locked door so it falls in my face.  They call me names and torment me just as they had done the day before.  They have truly found multiple ways of getting on my nerves.  But I’m left to stew in that pit for what felt like a couple hours.

We reached the point of the day where we needed to wrap things up, as we needed to get on the road in a couple of hours and much to clean up.  I’m let out of the pit and the play is done, so I head to shower and get packed.

As a group we all went out to lunch and kept on talking shop.  That’s the cool thing about this whole weekend.  I really didn’t have a friend that I could talk about this stuff with.  Like, no one.  Sure you talk to guys on the internet, but this was real.  Actual people sitting with me at a table and seemed to appreciate that I was there with them.  Now I could go on about me leaving with the same two guys that picked me up as we drove across jimmy crack corn after corn, Iowa, getting car sick along the way and getting to Chicago where we said goodbye to one friend and the other guy and I head into the airport to relax before our flights.  I could mention that he has access to the lounges and brings me with him to give me another experience I’ll probably never have again.  How he kept chatting with me like not many other friends have done before.  Or how we said our goodbyes and headed to different wings of the terminal to catch our flights.

I never thought my inquiry on a website would lead me to a special invitation across the country into a fantasy where I was the main attraction. While my experience was a roller coaster of emotion, I knew when I got on that plane home, I wasn’t leaving alone. I had made friends and the door was wide open to new experiences.

If you are anything like me, then you need to have this experience.  Check out Bind’s website at www.haptonjail.com and fill out the application, pay the fee and experience this world. You will not be disappointed. If you have questions, you can email me at iamcellshocked@gmail.com, and I’ll do my best to answer them or put you in touch with one of the officers who can.

Metal would like to thank the author, CellShocked, for telling this story of his experience!