Tag Archives: true stories

Story

Jail Training Center – Part 02

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By slaveobjectx

I flew from London to Atlanta. Atlanta airport is something else! Huge. For whatever reason, I was pulled over for a search coming through Customs. My suitcase was mostly taken up with my leather gear and boots but the black lady sifting through my stuff must have seen it all before. Not even the hint of a knowing smile. Finally I was waved through and there was Mike waiting for me.

I knew that The Center was not actually in Atlanta but I had not expected it to be some thirty miles north, through a commuter town and then through countryside until we arrived at an area filled with up-market, large houses, most with swimming pool and very much sitting cheek by jowl. One was overlooked in all directions. We parked and entered through the main door to the house. How different it used to be for the inmates of The Academy! The illusion of jail was maintained through picking them up at the airport in a prepared van with blackened windows. As such they would have seen nothing of the seeming normality of the setting of The Academy in an oasis of respectability.

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Story

Jail Training Center – Part 01

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By slaveobjectx

I had known it as the Academy Training Center. It only advertised in the pages of Drummer, the pioneering gay BDSM magazine, which all leathermen were addicted to if they could get hold of it. It was banned in the UK. I picked up copies if I visited NYC or Amsterdam. Jack Fritscher also wrote an article for Drummer about The Academy, and this is still available online. My memories provide a kind of partial coda to that account and also give a slightly different, and I believe truer version, of how The Academy ended and The Jail Training Center came into being.

For those of you who know nothing of The Academy, I’ll fill you in a little here. It started in the late 1980s and, at that time, was situated in Missouri. What it offered — at a hefty price — was a ‘real’ jail experience. I say ‘real’ because it differed in some interesting ways from a true jail experience. It’s an undoubted fact that the guards were recruited from either serving or ex-serving prison guards and police officers. But sex was in no way part of the equation.

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Story

Copdar – Worth Being Late

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By Cuffsandcops

Last week, I took a half day from work in order to get my teeth cleaned. My dentist’s office is located on the western edge of the city limits and several small police departments serve the surrounding area. Back more than a few years ago, I successfully got an officer from one of the PDs to cuff me and sit me in the back seat of his patrol vehicle, so every time I have an appointment on that side of town, I wonder if the opportunity will rise again.

I really wanted to get my truck washed before my appointment so I left my house early enough to account for that errand. The line at the car wash was way too long, so I decided to hook a U-turn and head towards the dentist on a road where I knew some officers liked to park while monitoring traffic. As I passed by a large parking lot next to a church, I noticed a marked SUV up against the tree line.

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Story

Copdar – Grocery Store Guards

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By Cuffsandcops

The grocery store at the bottom of the hill has become a gold mine for getting cuffed. I know it sounds strange, but it’s true. Over the summer I began noticing a security guard was posted up near the self-checkouts. He is a big dude, 6-foot-5, probably 300 pounds of thickness. He wore most of his gear on his vest and had a weapon on his hip. I tend to shop later in the evening when there aren’t many other customers.

One night as I entered the store I saw the guard looking at the case of donuts and baked goods. I approached him and asked what kind of cuffs he was carrying. He pulled a pair of black chain cuffs from the front of his vest. They didn’t look like Peerless or Smith and Wesson but were along those lines. I asked if I could experience being cuffed. He looked at me funny.

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Story

The Cell

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By slaveobjectx

i was in my late 20s when this happened.

After some years of looking, i finally found a Master online who was seriously into caging and imprisoning slaves with a taste for metal bondage. As long as I can remember, i was fascinated by men in chains, behind bars, locked up. Chains and locks have a powerful psychological effect on me that rope bondage can not match. So i could not wait to hand myself over for a five-day, no-way-out, period of incarceration. i had not seen my Jailer/Master in advance but we had spent much time discussing my incarceration and ensuring that i trusted him totally.

So on Monday i went to a quiet deserted street under the railway arches in South London. He appeared on his motorcycle at exactly 10 p.m. Without a word i took the helmet he offered me, put it on, and got on behind him on the motorbike. The helmet had a blackened visor – as a result i could not see where we were going, only the street lights and the rear lights of cars penetrated the darkness. It felt like being kidnapped. Certainly already it led to a sense that I was not in control.

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Story

A Few Hours of Suffering

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By keepmetiedup

They say “write what you know,” so here’s a short story that actually happened to me (with just a teeny bit of embellishment). This story contains descriptions of breath control, some CNC, and pain.

At breakfast this morning, I noticed my jaw still ached when I started to eat my toast.  Later, in the shower, the hot water made my nips hurt again.  When I looked in the mirror, I saw the black and blue marks across my back and ass.  All souvenirs of a good time suffering for a demanding top three days ago.

I visit my family every few months and I often try to schedule a play session before or after my time with my family.  Sometimes, it doesn’t work out.  On this trip, however, I succeeded in setting up a date with a trusted top I had visited many times before who is into pain, cbt, bondage, and – yes – breath controI.  I went over to his place.  We chatted about limits and preferences, and I told him I was interested in playing a bit more with breath control.  I reminded him that I hadn’t visited him for about two years, and he said that he would have to punish me for not coming to see him again sooner.  I smilingly agreed that he would indeed need to punish me.

He told me to strip down to my birthday suit, to go into the next room, and to wait for him with my hands behind my back and my head bowed.  Naturally I complied.  The second room was quite dark and without my glasses on, it was hard to see anything.  I waited.  Eventually, I heard him walk up behind me and he slipped a blindfold on.  Now I couldn’t see anything at all.  I heard him walk around in front of me.  He told me to present my arms to him.  He attached what felt like leather cuffs to each wrist and he fastened these together in front of me with what I’m assuming was a short length of rope.  He didn’t ignore my nips.  He clamped each one with something snug and secure.  I never did see what they were, but they did their job and hurt.  He guided me around the room to a different position.

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Story

26 Hours Locked in a Below-Ground Cell

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Note: this is a re-post of a true bondage story by Bind of Men In Chains, which was previously shared in the Metalbond Prison Library back in 2012. There is video from the experience available at Serious Male Bondage.

By Bind

Mark, the owner of several websites including www.seriousmalebondage.com, has a very interesting thing on his back deck that he built.  They call it the “Deck Cell.”  The first time I saw it in person was February 2012.  I was invited to go up to San Francisco to experience some bondage at Mark’s place that we affectionately call the Serious Bondage Institute.  I was given a tour of the place, then we went outside to the back of his house and I saw it.  The moment that I saw the “deck cell” I knew that I needed to be locked in it.

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Story

Copdar – Bubba from Kentucky

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By Cuffsandcops

Hook up apps with maps help to pin point parts of the city populated with hotels and out of town visitors. One of these areas is not too far from my house and I admit to sending more messages to profiles that show up there, compared to other local locations. I noticed a picture of a thick cock presumedly staying at a hotel on the map.

Clicking into the profile, it revealed a 40-year-old man, standing 6 feet tall, and weighing 275 pounds. He identified as muscular, bisexual, and vers/bottom. He indicated that he very much liked public play and exhibitionism in subcategories.

I am very fetish foward on this app, and in typical fashion, initated conversation by asking “ever been handcuffed?” Usually I phrase this question by asking generally if someone has expience with handcuffs, but given the information in the profile, I put a more submissive twist on it. To my surprise, he responded by saying he had, alot. When I asked for clarification, he revealed that he was a retired cop. I commented that I would love to see if he could still get his hands behind his back and maybe he could give me a few pointers on my cuffing technique.

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