By PFC Pflege
I was twenty-four when I finished my tour of duty in the Marine Corps, and returned to Philadelphia. After a while, I finally landed a job which paid pretty well, and I was able to afford my own place in center city, half of a row house. I had the basement and the first floor; two guys had the upper two floors and the roof deck.
By PFC Pflege
I stood up, and looked at Vasquez. I liked what I saw. I had already gagged him before I tied his ankles, so there was little left to be done. It was nearly midnight, but the unair-conditioned barracks were very warm from Hawaii’s heat, and it never really cooled off, even after the sun set. Vasquez was lying face up on the foam rubber padding which I kept on my bed.
By Pfc Pfledge
Randy woke earlier than usual that Saturday, and then, realizing it was Saturday, snuggled back down in his comfortable bed, enjoying the laziness and half-awakedness of a day when he did not have to work. It was going to be a hot day in Atlanta, but right now, the temperature seemed just right. Randy had turned the air conditioning off the night before, and was enjoying the gentle breeze through his window, and the muffled sound of early morning traffic on Atlanta’s streets. He lazed drowsily under a single sheet, luxuriating in the pleasant knowledge that he didn’t have to work today.
By PFC Pflege
I discovered Rocky one night when Dave and I tied up the boys in the next squadbay who shared our head. We tied them up and put them one by one in the shower. Rocky was an extra guy, who had been waiting next door, trying to buy drugs, and we tied him up, too. He said later that he was from El Paso, but he was crazy and said a lot of things.
By PFC Pflege
After boot camp I was sent to Camp Smith, which sits in the hills overlooking Pearl Harbor. It’s also headquarters for the Fleet Marine Force, and CINCPAC (Commander in Chief Pacific), so it’s a pretty important base. As a result, they spent more money on it than other bases, and the barracks were pretty fancy by Marine Corps standards.
By PFC Pflege
Part 1
I met Mark through friends of mine. He was 19 years old; I was 28. It was the summer that everyone was gin-rummy mad, and played whenever we could. Most of the guys were in their early twenties, and didn’t have a place of their own yet, or, if they did, it was a small apartment. Since I had just bought a house, it was natural that a lot of the games were played there. We’d have 6 or 8 guys playing, sometimes more; none of us had a lot of money, so the stakes were real low. On the weekends, if the fever was on, we sometimes played all night, nodding over the cards as the light of early dawn filled the rooms.
Editorial note from Metalbond: Everyone has to make their own decisions in terms of what they consider safe play. In my opinion it is NEVER a good idea to leave someone gagged while alone. Having said that, I hope you enjoy the narrative below, which was sent from Master Jack over at Bondagezine.
Black Solitude II
By PFC Pflege
Part 1
I wrote an account of Black Solitude and how I was tested to my limits by the long hours of being hogtied, gagged, and hooded, totally alone in complete blackness for a couple of days.