To see more like this, go to Men In Chains
The Captain looked down at the man slurping beer out of the dog bowl and took a long drag on his cigar. As the end glowed red, he looked at the ash growing on it and taped it, letting it float down over Davis’ head and into the beer he was drinking up. Davis was trying his best to lap at the beer but as it went down it got more difficult. The Captain saw he was having problems, so he lifted up his right foot and pushed it down on the back on Davis’ head, forcing it into the bowl. Davis licked and sucked faster, choking as the beer went up his nose, but after a few minutes he managed to drain the bowl, leaving only a small amount of beer in the bottom.
The Captain looked down. “Lick it clean.” To his surprise and pleasure, the man did so. He leant over to Dejan. “So, tell me his story.” Quickly, Dejan explained and showed the Captain the cocktail of drugs that Davis had been taking. “Interesting. May I suggest adding these?” He gave Dejan the name of three other drugs – two to increase muscle growth, the third to increase suggestibility even more.
‘As your punishment for not being able to make me come boy, you will try to excite me by my watching you on the exercise bike that I’ve modified!’ Master said with a chuckle.
I had been kneeling, naked before Master with my wrists cuffed behind my back for twenty minutes working my tongue and lips round his cockhead without success. This was despite him working the back of my head with his hands up and down, sometimes gently, others aggressively. Throughout this ordeal, my own cock remained rock hard.
Master’s body was what every slave would wish to serve: he was mid- forties, gym-muscular but stocky, wearing only a leather body harness and sporting a massive ten-inch erection.
He pulled me up by my ear and dragged me over to the exercise bike. ‘Here boy; see how I have modified the seat,’ he explained, ‘that spike will fit up your arse. It shouldn’t hurt as you sit on it as it’s no wider than a pencil. Your wrists will be fixed to the handlebars as you can see, with these solid manacles, which I’ve welded to the bars. You won’t be able to get off the seat because…’ he pointed to a heavy-looking metal bar hinged to one side of the seat ‘this bar will fit round your waist and will be locked in place.’ He released my wrists from the handcuffs. ‘Now get on it!’
I’m not sure how long I slept. When I woke up it was still pitch black in the cell. I maneuvered myself onto my knees, wrists of course were still cuffed behind my back, and worked myself to what I thought was the center of the cell. I just knelt there and waited.
I wasn’t sure exactly what else to do. In my mind I wanted to please John. The handcuffs were the only restraints I was wearing so I had complete movement within the cell. I could get up and walk around but to be completely submitted in my head meant waiting. And the waiting should be in a manner befitting the station I was being trained to be… a bondage slave. Waiting, therefore, meant on knees, facing the door, head bowed, knees apart until John, my master, returned. This would be an appropriate position to be found in.
It was difficult to maintain this position. The cold, hard concrete floor was uncomfortable and painful to stay kneeling on without any padding between my knees and the floor. But such was the position of a bondage slave I kept telling myself.
“I visited an interesting place recently. It was a play space that looked just like an army barracks. It included the bunk area as well as a gym. Four prisoners ended up restrained there. We had an awesome time.”
Bind has posted a video of this, called “Prisoners in the Barracks,” at his site — Men In Chains
Bind gets strapped down tight!
These pictures are from Bind of the Men In Chains site