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Tag Archives: piss
New Gear – Part 2
By ty dehner
In a flash, I was face down in the heavy, creamy mud! I could still breathe thanks to the gaps in the helmet that protected my head, but I could feel the wetness of the mud soaking my lightweight jersey. As I recovered from the shock of being dumped, I started to struggle to right myself to get my face out of the mud. But the more I struggled, the more I seem to sink into it. I totally forgot about my Master and his truck, so I paused for a moment and I didn’t hear anything. Did he drive off and just leave me to worm my way in the muck?
I could feel the mud making its way into my helmet, and if I didn’t roll over I would end up suffocating in this stuff. There was nothing firm to grab onto with my bound hands, so it was really difficult to move. My heavy boots worked as they could but were bound together with the tape. I know the mud is caking on my new gear, and I could feel it soaking now into my pants and gloves. The goggles were covered with mud, so I couldn’t see anything. I tried reaching down with my hands deep into the mud but didn’t find a bottom. This really freaked me out, for I could end up sinking into this never to be seen again.
I tried with all my might and got myself shifted on my side. Raising my hands, I wiped some of the mud from the goggles so I could see. It wasn’t a clear view, but I could see the building under construction just beyond me. As I rolled over my legs went deeper into the mud, allowing me to bend at my waist a bit, but when I tried pulling my legs up they were stuck. I would not be getting out on my own. I turned, looking for Master, and found him not far. He was standing on the tailgate of the truck that was only a few feet from me. He yelled my name, and I looked up at him in his USMC desert ACUs and he had his cock out. The first splash of his piss struck the top of my helmet and ran down, mixing with the mud.
Busman’s Holiday – Part 08
By lthr_jock
Clark stared straight ahead at the clock – not that he had much choice. The collar of the helmet was rigidly locked in place, and the helmet was so tight around his head that he couldn’t move inside it. Vickers had left the room in darkness except for the spotlight on the box and a smaller one illuminating a clock face opposite Clark. Apart from closing his eyes, Clark had no choice but to watch the clock slowly counting down the minutes.
The hands of the clock seemed to move like someone wading through tar. By the time Clark had been in there for 15 minutes, it felt like far longer. Already he knew he was in trouble. With his arms locked behind him, his muscles were cramping painfully. His heavy biceps and shoulders worked against him and made the bondage more secure. He tried to move, but he could do little but twitch inside the box. The chains restraining his chest and waist were heavy and solid, and he couldn’t move them an inch. His legs were locked securely in place, and their positioning meant that his back and arse were forced further into the rubber of the chair. He couldn’t even wiggle his arse, as the rubber tube that had been pushed up inside him was also solidly in place.
Toilet slaves
The piss cage artwork
Here’s the artwork that inspired the guy who wants to be a urinal:
If anyone ever finds himself in such a predicament, please send details!
Metalbond reader begs to be turned into a human urinal
By Unknown
I love the drawing of the guy who is sealed in a straightjacket, piss hood locked on his head, piss gag connected to a urinal drain, and in the cage left to stay there. I would love for that to be me someday.
Whether for a weekend, a week, or longer the truth is that once the piss hood locks I truly have nothing to say about how long I’m used. And once the cage is locked, that seals the deal, I am nothing more than a urinal. When was the last time you heard of a urinal saying it didn’t want to be a urinal any more? Can’t be done, so if that 3-day weekend “accidentally” becomes 3 weeks, what am I going to say or do about it?
Continue reading Metalbond reader begs to be turned into a human urinal
Lent Out – Part 3
By JR
I woke up struggling against this neoprene sack throughout the night and into the next morning. My mouth was caked with piss, cum and saliva. The hood felt hot and the complete blackness grew frustrating. The collar make my neck stiff and sore. I had no idea what time it was. My arms were tight against my sides. I was thirsty and aching and had to pee. My dick was still locked in the chastity pod, fighting futilely against its spikes.
Someone came to release me, informed me it was already after noon. He removed the gag from my mouth, but reminded me the hood was staying on until Sunday. He removed the pod from my dick. After fighting erections in this thing all night, now that my dick was finally free it was too exhausted to get hard.
I drank some water and used the bathroom. I wondered what my dick looked like after getting impaled by the little spikes. I stretched and tried to orient myself despite the lack of vision, and considered what Tyler and Keith might have in store for me for the remainder of my captivity. I was led into the shower and washed down thoroughly. Then I was brought down to the kitchen and fed some eggs. I used my hands as I could not find my mouth with a fork.
I was slowly coming back to life, sitting in this kitchen naked except for a hood and trying to eat. My mind wandered back to the previous night, a wild an unexpected and totally hot night, and my dick sprang up as if suddenly realizing it was finally free to do so.
“That’s awesome,” I heard Tyler. “Just sitting here eating your fucking eggs turns you on.” I just smiled, remembering his ban on speaking. After some silence he said, “It’s ok, you can speak now. Are you doing ok?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Seriously, that wasn’t too intense?”
A Metalbond reader likes to get chained to the toilet
A guy who refers to himself as “Metal pervert” sent me these pictures, along with this note:
I am Mike, a real metal pervert. I like for example to be chained to a toilet chair for very long periods! It´s torture when the thighs start to hurt after some hours, when trying to leave the chair. Very humiliating, sitting on the chair for extremely long period!
