Tag Archives: PFC Pflege

Remembering Master Jack

I learned yesterday with great sadness that Master Jack passed away a few months ago, in November 2021, of a heart attack. Over more than two decades, Master Jack hosted countless men from all over the world for heavy, multi-day bondage scenes at his home dungeons in California and then in Arizona.

Master Jack was also a trailblazer on the Internet with his very own subscription-based website — Bondagezine — which dated all the way back to the 1990s and had tons of hot stories, photographs and lots of original videos.

Master Jack Bondagezine

Although it was a bit clunky, the Bondagezine site was a vast resource. Sadly, it is no longer available. This is a shame because the site had so much irreplaceable content. Master Jack also had a second site called Bondagemaster, which is still online although I suspect it too might be coming down soon.

Master Jack Bondagemaster

 

Master Jack didn’t share many pictures of himself, but here are a few pictures of some of the many prisoners he hosted over the years, taken from his website:

Master Jack Bondagezine

 

Master Jack also encouraged and inspired countless other men over the years, including Mark Bind, PFC Pflege — and myself! If anyone would like to share any memories of Master Jack, I invite you to post a comment in the comments section below, or you can send me an email.

Aron

By PFC Pflege

(This story originally appeared at Bondagezine.com)

I was twenty-four when I was outposted from the Marine Corps, and returned to Philadelphia. I was lean, I was hard, I had a military haircut, and the Marine Corps “look”. After I got set up in an apartment, and was back at my old job, I soon was hitting the local gay bar scene. Philadelphia’s gay community wasn’t very big back then – not  very big now – and there were only4 or 5 gay bars. I discovered that a whole lot of gays had a thing about Marines, and I didn’t lack for dates, and in 18 months or so, I must have had a couple of hundred guys, sometimes two a night. I liked lean, hard guys like myself, and I liked to fuck. I also discovered that there was no end of guys who wanted to suck off a Marine.

Continue reading Aron

Scott’s Revenge – Part 1

By PFC Pflege

I knew, generally, it was coming, but still I was totally unprepared for it when it happened. Scott’s revenge, I mean. He’s jumped me before, and made it stick – tying my hands before I know what’s going on, and then working me over. He loves jumping me, because I am taller and more solid than he is; and my arms and legs are very muscular. I love showing off my 17-inch biceps in tight t-shirts. Scott is a young, lithe, muscled wrestler, but if I ever lock him again in a bear hug, as I did once, all his wrestling skills are nothing, and he would, as he did, have to submit.  We have been doing stuff to each other for a number of years, all of it involving bondage in one form or the other.

Last time was Scott’s turn to get it, and he got it like this. I had him put on his wrestling singlet, smooth tight Lycra, and nothing else. The singlet showed off his muscles, his toned chest and abdomen, and his packed crotch. The singlet was tight, and I could see his big dick and his twin nuts outlined in the Lycra. As I tied his hands in front of him, I ground my knee gently into the package, feeling his cock hardening in the singlet. Then, I jerked his hands upwards, with a rope over a rafter. We were in my basement, which looked as if it were designed for bondage, with overhead rafters and pipes, and steel posts holding up the floor above. Lots of ways and places Scott could tie me, or I could tie him.

Continue reading Scott’s Revenge – Part 1

1st Person

By PFC Pfledge

We all remember when we first had an interest in bondage, and the first time we were tied up. You wouldn’t be reading this account if you aren’t interested in being tied up, or tying other guys up. I was first tied up when I was younger, then a number of times during high school, when I was a teenage wrestler. I loved wearing those skin-hugging tights, showing a huge bulge, as my buddies, Steve and Peter, would hogtie me.

In college, I had a lot of bondage at the hands of a local high school senior, ostensibly straight, but who enjoyed tying me up in skimpy Speedos, and being tied up himself, on his knees, to a post in my parents’ basement. When I was in the Marine Corps, and stationed in Hawaii, I was tied up in a tight spread eagle almost every night in the last three months of my enlistment. I also tied up my tormentor, David, many times, too. We wore the smallest possible Speedos in the hot Hawaii climate, and neither of us “noticed” the other guy’s straining bulge and packed, smooth curve of my or David’s crotch.

Continue reading 1st Person

In Memoriam: PFC Pflege

I learned today from Master Jack the sad news that PFC Pflege died recently. I never had the opportunity to meet him in person, but I did communicate with him via email a few times, and I also devoured his many true-life stories that he shared over the years.

A former Marine, Dan was a lifelong bondage fanatic whose passion for adventurous play was well documented over at Master Jack’s website, Bondagezine. He was described as a fun-loving, gregarious fellow who was kind and generous.

“Dan came to me for many scenes until his health wouldn’t permit,” said Master Jack in an email. “We talked all the time, and he sent us huge bouquets of flowers each Thanksgiving and Christmas. He was a warm and wonderful man. I will miss him.”

For a link to Dan’s self-described apogee of his bondage scenes, posted at Bondagezine, click here.

And for Dan’s author page in the Metalbond Prison Library, click here.

 

Metal would like to express sincere condolences to Master Jack on the loss of his longtime friend.

Also, thank you, Master Jack, for sharing this information, and for allowing so many of Dan’s stories to be reposted here.

 

56 Hours

By PFC Pflege

I knew when the fifty-six hours were up, roughly, by meal and toilet time. Those were the only times I was partially released, but still hooded over my eyes, and chained. I was fed from a bowl like an animal, and after toilet time, was hosed out with a garden hose. There’s nothing sexy about a naked man, handcuffed and hooded, having his ass washed out with a garden hose. Then I was returned to my cage, hog-chained, gagged, and hooded. Or chained to that damn chair I hated so much. I learned later that I had been hog-chained to that chair in several sessions, totaling just over twenty-four hours of the fifty-six.

Continue reading 56 Hours