These classic images are from the vaults of Mr S.
New video up now at Men in Chains
More artwork by Joe T
Here’s another work by the artist Joe T. This is image is being shared here with the permission of the artist.
I really like this picture, because it depicts a prison guard who has been overpowered by one of the inmates. According to google translate, the text reads as follows:
But it fits me impeccable, this uniform! Thanks, Johnson!
Escape in the warehouse of a prison
HINT: A similar scenario is depicted in the multi-part story in the Prison Library called Busman’s Holiday by lthr_jock, in which an inmate figures out how to switch places with a hunky prison guard.
Interrogation
Hey punk, if you were handcuffed to this table would you talk?
Today’s picture is from Serious Male Bondage
Enter Reality – Part 04
By ty dehner
Is this the end?
It took me a couple of hours to write the story for this leather master. The writing was difficult at times, as my focus would stray from the written word to the pain in my ass as the steel plug would ramp up the electroactivity. But I was able to conclude my writing and provide Chris with the signal that I had completed it and saved the file to the folder that he had instructed me to. Now I had to wait for him to read it. The screen went black and I was alone in the bondage, hearing my breathing as I awaited my fate.
The fresh air filled the space and my nose picked up his scent as I was aware that Chris had read my work and would render my verdict. The light filled the small space that I had been trapped in for several hours. My cock grew a bit as I thought about the results of my writing about the power that Chris has taken over me.
Fix Franklin County Historic Jail Plumbing
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Slip into something less comfortable
Enter Reality – Part 03
By ty dehner
Exposed
The ride through the metro area was interesting as Chris controlled the conversation. He had questions about my stories which let me know he had spent a great deal of time keeping up with my imagination. I felt safe during the ride, secured in the leather straitjacket and muzzle, and a bit excited with the unknown of all this. As we exited the freeway, I didn’t know where he lived as he didn’t discuss much about himself when we have talked. During the drive when I responded to his questions I mumbled through the gag, my throat getting dry as it had been a while since I had anything to drink, not even water. But I was glad we weren’t sitting in silence this entire time.
Driving down Riverside Drive, the road was on the edge of the Los Angeles River along the edge of the mountains in Griffith Park.