POW Author, who has written a number of stories for the Metalbond Prison Library in the past, has written a brand-new story for his own website, called “Assassins.” Despite the name, nobody in the story gets harmed! It’s a story about a bondage capture game that takes place in the host hotel during a weekend-long leather contest.
Click HERE to read the story.
POW passed along this picture, as well as some information. See below:
POW writes,
Hey, Metal, I thought you might enjoy this.
I was out for a bike ride on the Delaware and Lehigh (D&L) trail recently. Near milepost 87.5, a bit north of Allentown, PA, I came across this “phone booth.”
The plaque next to it describes how from 1905 until the 1980s the phone booth was used by workers on the railroad that once ran where the D&L trail is today. It fell into disrepair after that, but was later restored as an Eagle scout project.
You can see that the entrance now has a barred door across it, secured with two combination padlocks. Presumably this is to keep people out, but any door that keeps someone out can also keep someone in!
The phone booth cell could hold one captive comfortably, maybe three or four less comfortably. The only drawback is that it’s very close to the trail — you can see the gravel path running by on the right side. The inmate might need to be gagged to prevent him from calling out to passing joggers and hikers for help. Or locked in on a day with miserable weather when no one else will be out. He’ll stay dry inside — mostly.
The name of the Eagle scout who did the restoration is given on the nearby plaque … I wonder if he’d be willing to share the combinations for the locks?
All the best,
– POW
Thanks, POW, for the picture and for the information!
NOTE: POW’s author page on the Metaldond site is here
His own BDSM fiction page (which is ‘view your own risk’!) is here
The author POW, who has shared a number of stories here on Metalbond (see VRansomware, VRealWorld and The Bare Minimum Cage) and who has a story site of his own called POW’s Fiction, has written a brand new one, Remote Controlled, which is inspired by The Edge Jail and Dungeon in California.
If you like incarceration, prolonged inescapable bondage, and edgy male BDSM fiction, you’re going to want to read this story. It’s very lengthy, so plan accordingly. It’s also very well written, and POW has given the reader the choice of THREE separate endings!
Please note that there are a number of elements of this story and others on this author’s site that are extreme, so read at your own risk!
Here’s a screen shot that links directly to the story:
A new video — “Information Please: Part 1 – The Cage” is available today (September 3) at Men In Chains
Jeff opened the bag from Martin while riding the train back to Brooklyn. It contained a pair of condoms and a small bottle of lube. He snorted. Thanks for the thought, Martin, but you have massively misjudged me if you think I’m going to need these. He stuffed the bag back into his backpack.
It was after 1 AM by the time he got home. Bill’s score continued to slowly drain away, which meant that he wasn’t “entertaining any visitors”, which Jeff had figured out was a very sophisticated-sounding euphemism for “being tortured and fucked by strangers”. That was probably for the best because Jeff was completely beat and wouldn’t have been able to stay awake long enough to go start his rescue attempt. Besides, according to Nightmare, he needed to plan… but that could wait until morning.
He woke up a little after 8, definitely earlier than he would on a typical Sunday. He checked in on Bill, who was up and pacing around his tiny cell again. His score had fallen to 204.
Note: This is a sequel to VRansomwear. To start at the very beginning, click here.
The bar was much busier when Jeff returned, unsurprising for 8:30 on a Saturday night. Jeff found Martin sitting at the same table as before talking with another man sitting across from him. Martin saw him and waved in greeting.
“Would you excuse me for a moment?” he said to the other at his table, who murmured a polite farewell and stood to go. It was at this point that Jeff noticed the third man at the table, who he had not seen before because he was down on all fours at the feet of the man who was rising to depart. Jeff, the son of generations of Brooklynites, was no stranger to other people engaging in odd behavior and had two stock responses in store for whenever he came across it. One was a blistering stream of profanity and the other was a carefully-blank expression and averted eyes. The first was generally reserved for behavior that affected Jeff in some way and so he was preparing to bring up the second response when something caught him off guard: the man on the floor, who was now rising up just like a dog about to follow in the footsteps of its master, was wearing a thick black rubber suit that looked exactly like the one he had seen Bill in yesterday. Jeff’s poker face crumbled and he gaped like a midwestern farm boy on his first trip to Times Square, only realizing he was doing it when Martin chuckled.
Note: This is a sequel to VRansomwear. To start at the very beginning, click here.
The prison cell is not large, maybe ten feet by twelve. There is a long extension at one corner, almost a hallway, at the end of which is a toilet and a sink. The walls are rough-cut stone, dank and dripping with moisture, spotted with lichen and streaked with mineral trails left behind by centuries of trickling water. The air seems like it should be clammy and cold, but instead it is clammy and hot and Bill often finds himself pressing himself up against the stone to try to have it suck some of the excess heat out of his body.
The lighting is dim. Any color that might exist is washed into formless shades of grey. The light comes from nowhere in particular, which is odd because the cell has no windows and there are no light fixtures anywhere that Bill can find. Yet somehow, he can see, though in a limited, gloomy, dismal way. Depressing as it is, at least he’s not stuck in complete blackness.
He has been locked in this cell for what he believes to be more than a week. It is hard to measure time, of course. He is fed occasionally, though on no schedule he can predict, and there is never any change in the light level to draw a distinction between day and night. The only thing keeping him from going insane from boredom and isolation is the occasional arrival of… well, call them “visitors”. Like the food, the visitors arrive at unpredictable intervals and for as long as they are there in the cell with him, boredom and isolation are very low down on his list of troubles. After the visitors leave, after an initial period where he appreciates and enjoys the restored peace and quiet, that’s when the boredom and isolation start to nag at him once more.
He has tried to find a way to escape, of course, but every attempt so far has been unsuccessful. His last serious effort was some unmeasurable amount of time ago. Perhaps two days, maybe three. Since that failure, he has been unable to think of anything to try next. There is one main reason for that:
The author known as POW has posted a new story to his Gay S&M Stories home page. It’s called “Escape Room Challenge,” and it’s definitely hot and exciting if you ask me! Be forewarned, though, that it is very long, and it also contains some messy play in the second part. It gets even more edgy — and hot — in the third part.
To read “Escape Room Challenge,” click here
Read ALL POW’s stories here (but beware because many of his stories feature extreme themes!)
Also check out POW’s author section in the Prison Library by clicking here
