Tag Archives: featured authors

Story

My Voluntary 48 Hours in Jail

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By Inmate 104517

I self-surrendered to a weekend in jail several weeks ago at a place called F22.

I arrived at the facility and could not find a place to park. I was supposed to be there by 1000. The guards were awaiting my arrival. Of course, my Business Partner called me as I was circling the parking lot looking for a place to park. I stopped and pulled out my laptop and logged in to check on a case I was working on. More on this later.

A guard approached my vehicle and saw I was working and graciously asked me how much longer I would be. Since I had yet to find a parking place, he offered to move the Prisoner Transport Van and said I could park there. He moved the van and I parked. I finished my business and entered the lobby of the jail as directed.

Several minutes went by, I was still wondering if I had made the right decision to be there. I had the same question days before as well during my nine-hour drive to the facility. I kept telling myself, “You’ve already paid for the experience, you are here, you will proceed with the experience.”

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Story

Freedom

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By AJ

Note: This is based on a true, consensual and life-changing encounter.

A single tear rolled down my cheek. It didn’t sting. It didn’t signal grief. It simply fell, carrying the emotional weight of two lives I balance: the predictable, structured life I would soon return to, and the controlled life I had just lived. One world is ordinary, structured, and restrained; the other is intense, liberated, and shaped by surrender.

Here I was permitted and encouraged to be someone else. I was untethered figuratively while tethered literally. Sir fully guided, freed me from all choice and decision, left me needing only to make one easy decision: obey and endure what had been decided for me. I had explored corners of experience most would neither imagine nor dare, and in that exploration, I had discovered a freedom I could never find in my ordinary life.

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Story

Jayson’s Nightmare – Part 02

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By Forced Chastity Lover

Jayson stared across the room at the two mirrors, which were set up to ensure he got a clear view of his entire body.

Staring back at him was a very muscular and impressive body affixed to the wall with straps at the biceps, wrists, pecs, hips, thighs, and ankles.  A thick collar around the neck was also attached to the wall.  His chest, normally covered in hair, was hairless.  In the middle of the chest, there were two shiny medal disks with the tips of his nipples sticking out.  If he looked closely, he would notice the disks were carved with intricate patterns.  His eyes continued down the image until it came to the root of his cock, which was also hairless.  Just above that, in big, bold black box letters, was the word “FAG.”  His eyes continued down to where his cock was enclosed by a bright, shiny silver tube with intricate carvings on it.  While he couldn’t see them, he knew there were two bars through his cock attached to the tube.  And they had been permanently welded on.

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Story

Jayson’s Nightmare – Part 01

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By Forced Chastity Lover

Jayson struggled ineffectually as he was pushed up against the wall.  His well-developed muscles were useless to him in his dazed condition.  The collar encircled his neck and clamped his head back against the wall.  His arms were held away from his body with the bicep and wrist straps. The leather strap around the chest held him upright and restricted movement.

Ryan, his biggest fraternity rival in the house, knelt and spread his legs one at a time, locking the ankles to the wall.  He repeated the maneuver with the thigh straps.  Jayson was now securely held against the wall with minimal movement possible.  Ryan stepped back to admire his handywork.

Standing in front of him, affixed to the wall, was six foot four inches of solid, well-developed musculature weighing in at 240 pounds.  He had luscious brown hair topping his head, while bright blue eyes peered out at him from a movie-star-quality face.  His biceps were 19 inches and solid; his pecs stood out from his chest like pillows.  Two rock-hard pillows.  His nipples were well centered in each pec, sticking out slightly like two arrows pointing the way.

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Story

Warden – Part 02

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By Jordan Thomas

Chapter 2 – Exploration

Over the course of several days, 42-year-old Philip was curious about his findings, but tonight during his night shift again, he got bored. Since there wasn’t much to do other than playing with some stuff on his desk, he managed to take another peek into the room.

Beep. The green light flashed again.

This time the door opened easily, not like before. To his surprise the room was lit — the lights were already on when he opened the door. Strange. He paced around the room again until he reached the rows of cabinets he had previously opened like a treasure chest. He took a quick look through the glass on each cabinet until he stopped in front of the last one that he hadn’t opened before because he got interrupted by his colleague. He put his hands on the handle and slowly opened the cabinet. The door swung open easily, and inside was a full CO uniform but made in leather. In conclusion there were 5 cabinets; those 5 held things he had never seen before aside from porn websites. But the last one — it was unnerving.

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Story

Warden – Part 01

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By Jordan Thomas

Chapter 1 – Finding

The name is Philip Carrington, a regular corrections officer (CO) from a small town in Colorado. He used to be a Marine, so he had that “big tough guy” build: broad shoulders, big chest, thick thighs, and a neat crew cut. But for some reason, after a few years on the floor lingering around the cell blocks, one day he was assigned a desk job to handle administration of the prison inventory. You know, the one who handles stockkeeping for the equipment used in the prison, like shackles, cuffs, etc. For some it may be a nice thing to not walk around the facility and just hang around in a room, but for Philip it was torture as he’s an active person and now he’s stuck at his desk providing things that other COs ask for.

After a few days stuck in his mundane fort of solitude, he decided to do routine checks on the inventory. At the back of the room there was a door behind some old shelves. He was intrigued by it and tried to clear up some space by dragging the empty shelf away. To his surprise the door had some stickers that he could not quite read because of the dust sticking to the old peeled sticker. He wiped them off a little, ran his hands over the residue, and got a glimpse of the wording that said: “HIGH RISK SUPPLIES: AUTHORIZED ACCESS ONLY.”

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Story

Just Bondage – Part 01

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By Dalton Ott

Note from Metal: This is a re-post of a true bondage story that was originally posted under Anonymous. The author, Dalton Ott, who has been featured prominently on Serious Male Bondage, has subsequently revised his story, added to it, and has agreed to have it appear again, and under his name this time.

At a local sauna two men engaging in friendly conversation somehow stumbled on to the topic of bondage, not your usual sauna conversation. It was awkward at first but soon they discovered they shared a common secret. They were both secretly into heavy sensory deprivation bondage.

The excitement grew into a three-hour, intense conversation at a local coffee shop. They shared stories about their experiences and bondage equipment, what they owned and what they fantasized about.

They eventually talked about their unfulfilled bondage fantasies and discovered they both enjoyed extreme bondage without the need for sex. All they wanted to experience were long sensory deprivation sessions in heavy rubber or leather. They both had an unquenched passion to explore the depths of extreme subspace.

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Story

A Case of Mistaken Identity

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By Arrest22

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It was about noon on a Friday. I work overnights, so I was just beginning my weekend. I was flying down the highway on 680. I was wearing dark blue jeans, my Friday staple, a midnight blue polo, and birkenstocks. I changed into my sandals after hitting the gym at work.

Sometimes when the music hits, you lose track of time. In my case, I also lost track of my speedometer.

I saw the blue lights in my rearview before I heard them.

“FUCK!” I exclaimed loudly to no one.

I found a safe place to pull over. Doing so was not the easiest task as it was lunch hour on a Friday. I could hear the cop car telling me to pull over from their loud speaker. It was annoying because that’s exactly what I was trying to do.

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