In this video, Mick from E-Stim Systems takes you through the ins ands outs of the ElectroPebble, a dual-channel electroplay unit with nine modes including audio:
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Last summer, Bind found himself locked up for months of hard, challenging bondage.
There’s a new video today at Men In Chains
When you want to take your bondage scene to the next level …
See the VIDEO “The Coffin Box With Three Electro-magnets” at Men In Chains
By CFlex
The former Divide County Deputies weren’t staring at each other for more than a few seconds. Partly out of fear, but mostly out of embarrassment, their eyes broke the stare and began a head to toe visual inventory of each other. This was more than the “sizing up” glance men gave to each other in hundreds of locker rooms everyday. While it was difficult for both of them, Luke Owens was overwhelmed and disgusted by what he had seen and what he was seeing.
And each time their eyes met it was obvious, the eyes never lie. In front of him hung Alan Grant. Grant’s cock still purple and pulsing in its clearer-than-crystal prison. Even though he couldn’t see it from where he was suspended, Luke knew those pulses were happening every time Grant’s ass was tugging on that obscene plug. What put Luke over the edge was the way Grant’s mouth was suckling the cock stuffed into his mouth. Clearly, Grant was enjoying himself! “Fucking faggot!” was the message his eyes were broadcasting.
Grant’s eyes sensed the disdain in Luke’s eyes. With his head now free to move, Grant began shaking his head furiously. His eyes certainly weren’t going to convince Luke that, despite how it looked, he was in agony. Especially from the sensitive area behind the head of his cock which was now ringed with needle-sharp spikes.
Check out the Ice Locks available from Mr S:
Get your Ice Locks at Mr S
Also check out this story featuring Ice Locks in the Metalbond Prison Library:
Here are a few more featured stories:
And there are more new stories coming to Metalbond!
By Practicerestraint
All is true.—Shakespeare, Henry VIII
10:20 p.m.
The text message read: You have two minutes to get dressed and be ready. Unlock the front door.
10:25 p.m.
I was brushing my teeth when I heard the noise at the front door. Then I heard, “Police! Announce yourself!”
It’s hard to announce yourself with a mouthful of toothpaste. I spit, rinsed, and moved from the bathroom to the bedroom as the officer repeated himself and I called out, “I’m here.”
“Come out here!”
I walked into the dark hall to see a flashlight and a gun pointed at me. The officer’s specific words after that escape me. They were nonstop directions that ended only when I was lying face down on the carpet at the end of the hall, arms out to the sides, palms up. The officer knelt, grabbed my left wrist, pulled my arm to the middle of my back, and applied the handcuffs. After he brought my right hand back to complete the job, I realized he had my palms facing out. He instructed me to stand, providing assistance as I did. He grabbed my left arm and led me out the door.
