Bind is chained next to the toilet in a jail cell — but that does not stop the guards from coming in to take a piss! Check out what happens:
See more like this at Serious Male Bondage
Also check out Bind’s site, Men In Chains
Visit the Dart_Tech website here
By Jackson Amacher
Colton was a cross-country runner. Colton grew up in a small town in Alabama, where the only exercise facilities available to young boys were a football field and a couple of miles of unpaved roads, so Colton took to the roads. He liked running, and didn’t mind the flat stomach and lean body it gave him.
Colton liked guys. But Colton was raised to be modest. He’d see other guys running shirtless, but he wouldn’t do that himself. It was indecent, Colton was taught. Colton never let anyone see his body, not his chest and certainly not what he kept under his underwear. At the Academy some guys would walk back from the showers wearing towels; Colton would wear a bathrobe over t-shirt and underwear.
Now, Colton was forced to wear just a jock strap in front of most of his class. He could feel everyone’s eyes on his bare skin. He couldn’t stop thinking about how small and undeveloped his body looked, compared to these muscular, shredded guys.
Jock straps weren’t new to him. When Colton was twelve, he went running with a new pair of running shorts his mom had bought him, shorts that had a built-in liner so that you didn’t need to wear underwear. It felt uncomfortable; his dick was too free, like a third leg. A few people smiled when Colton ran past them like that. Colton’s dad saw what they were seeing, stopped Colton immediately, and sent him home. “You’re flopping,” his dad had said, and Colton didn’t know what he meant. But Colton’s mom bought him jock straps after that. And Colton would wear them, with his normal underwear over them, and then his shorts. It felt much better.
By Jackson Amacher
[Earlier that day…]
At Dawson Military Academy, before graduation seniors take part in a massive wargame. What it involves, no one knows. Only that it is an honor to be picked.
There are three teams, each led by three cadets with the three highest scores on an exam. Those cadets pick the other players. Less than half the senior class is selected. Anyone who makes it through gets a silver medal on their graduation uniform. Anyone on the winning team, gets gold.
One cold morning the senior class reported to duty, as instructed, in the school’s parking lot.
They all wanted gold.
Good friends Dylan and Mark laughed and nervously chatted with each other.
“I can’t believe you didn’t make the cut for captain. So unfair,” Mark told Dylan.
“Yeah, it sucks. No prize for fourth place, though,” Dylan said.
The lists of students on each team were posted.
By Jockboy
“Front leaning rest NOW, shithead!” said my still unseen captor, giving me level #2 jolt from the shock collar around my neck to emphasize his point.
He’d just told me the shock collar level went to level #10. Level #1 and his talk of the punishment regimen to come had caused an unauthorized hard-on and an unauthorized pre-cum leak onto the concrete cellblock floor in front of the punishment cell.
I was in deep shit.
My conduct had earned me a trip to the basement dungeon where five of his buddies were waiting. I’d been promised an indoctrination punishment workout, a severe beating, and a hogtie in a cage.
And I hadn’t even been in-processed, shaved, strip-searched, disinfected, and issued my uniform yet. I was in a correctional boot camp whose purpose was behavior modification and instilling discipline and obedience.
Continue reading Punishment Cell at the Citadel Correctional Boot Camp – Part 02
By AlphaMetal
Day 2, Afternoon – Pretty Boy is Prepared
The Commander, Alpha, and the slaveboy stood over the cot where Pretty Boy lay shackled and the Commander said to the slave, “Get him ready.”
“Yes, Sir,” replied the slave, and the Commander and Alpha began to walk away.
When the men were gone Pretty Boy looked up the the slave and whispered quietly, “help me.”
The slave looked into the boy’s eyes and walked away.
A minute later the slave returned holding a set of four restraints made of rubber and attached one to Pretty Boy’s left wrist. As the slave began attaching the next restraint to Pretty Boy’s other wrist the boy said to the slave, “Help me. Please.” The slave looked deep into Pretty Boy’s eyes, paused, and quietly said to him, “All you need to do here to be treated well is obey. I learned that lesson. And so will you.” The slave attached the rubber ankle restraints to Pretty Boy’s feet and went to tell Alpha that it had been done.
Alpha returned and released Pretty Boy’s wrists from the metal shackles and handcuffed them together while his legs were still shackled to the cot. Then Alpha opened the cuffs on his ankles and gestured with his head that Pretty Boy should stand up. Pretty Boy stood up and Alpha put his massive hand on the back of his neck. Alpha was not holding his neck gently, the way he had when he guided him to the chair for his buzz cut; at that point Pretty Boy still had a choice between Alpha’s carrot and his stick but he gave that up when he defied the Commander’s order to strip for his flogging. Alpha grabbed him roughly by the neck and shoved him out of the dormitory and into the shower room.
Continue reading Training Week at the Campground: A Novel – Part 06
Check out CumDumpAndy — a man with some very twisted interests! He’s got an exposure fetish!
You can find CumDumpAndy on FetLife and Twitter
He’s also on bdsmlr under the same screen name!
By submittor
i’m just the drool bucket for the Beast.
Staring up at Him, mouth forced open, drool overflowing from my bucket of a mouth. He’s growling now, animalistic grunting, straining, bearing it, enduring the suffering, seems to be thriving on the challenge, sweat from his brow flowing onto my face and the drool is never ending. The voices grow louder, our captors returning. i can’t see them but hear them approach, three sets of footsteps. They start to stroke the Beast, he shudders at their touch.
‘Hows it going big fella? Five hours, reckon you deserve a break’
i’m ignored, just his bucket after all, as they start to release him from the brutal hogtie, unclip his tits from the clamps connecting us. i can only imagining the pain as his limbs are released, the pain in his back finally relieved, stretching. They spit into his open mouth, slap him a couple times to make him focus. Still gagged, he grunts angrily, stares at them, defiant.
i notice for the first time that his cock is in chastity, must be agony. i can’t help wonder how long it has been locked like that, how much has he endured. My own pathetic cock still stands proud and purple, not locked but tied, just as helpless, unreachable.
By submittor
Drip…another lump of slime falls into my open mouth hole with an audible plop. i’ve no idea how long we’ve been tied like this. All i can do is stare up at the handsome beast above me. Tough looking, masculine, muscled, handsome. Drip…when i’d been dragged in i’d instantly got hard at the sight of him…naked…hogtied…gagged….sweating…struggling….drooling. He was dirty, a few bruises, looked like he’d been in a fight maybe. Wide leather straps secured him into the vicious hogtie, muscles straining. His grunts and groans the only thing breaking the silence. He looked angry, aggressive, scary….fuckin hot. A Beast.
Drip…Drip…But i didn’t have long to admire his manliness. Rough hands dragged me and threw me on the dirt in front of him, a few swift, brutal kicks got me into position, lying directly under him. Inches from this fuckin God….beneath…lower than him in all ways.
Drip…Drip…Drip…its fuckin gushing now! filling me, drowning me. Next they’d wrapped lengths of leather hide round my body….tight! Everything bound tight together…painfully tight so i couldn’t move an inch. My balls also wrapped in tight leather hide. My cock sticking up purple and horny…not allowed to cum in a month.
