Tag Archives: true stories

Jax and Staggz – Chapter 1

By SockgaggedJason

Sockgagged JasonSpecial note: This is gay BDSM related and sexual but heavy on kinks like smelly socks, sports gear, and humiliation roleplay. Characters are based on real men over 21, fetish friends, who are also the models featured in the story photos.

Quick story description: Jax is a closeted young man with lots of fetishes — sports gear, bondage, smells — that he wants to explore with other guys. When he learns his older sister’s ex-boyfriend, Staggz, is “kinky” and possibly bisexual, he hatches a half-baked plan to coerce the handsome stud. Will it work or does it backfire?

Jax and Staggz – A Bondage and Sports Gear Fetish Story

SockgaggedJason

Jaxsen, aka “JAX,” in most respects was an everyday college graduate. Although he was 22, the college graduate looked strikingly younger. He was often mistaken for a teenager because of his small, slim frame and boyish face. This drove him crazy.

The nerdish, cute lad was “attracted” to men but didn’t really fit into the gay culture or think about sex in and of itself. Instead, he had a variety of fetishes: bondage, sports gear, foul body odors like dirty socks, humiliation roleplay, and more.

Jax had some experience with innocent tie-up games involving other friends when he was in his teens. He liked to be tied up most of the time, but he usually found himself doing the tying up. Jax was good with the ropes because he secretly experimented with self-bondage alone in his bedroom dozens of times. Gags were a big thing to him so that was common, especially using dirty socks.

Continue reading Jax and Staggz – Chapter 1

My Night at Pledge Brother Chris’ Apartment

By SockgaggedJason

SockgaggedJason gay bondage storiesThis is a true story from my college years when I was closeted and had joined a fraternity.

I decided to spend the night with my pledge brother, Chris Thompson. It was after an evening of partying at the frat house and his apartment was walking distance. I didn’t want to drive home drunk, but mostly it was mostly excuse to get him alone. I was curious about Chris ever since I heard the rumors from the other members of our pledge class. The story was, Chris was gay. What threw me off though was his persona. Chris was a recent Army discharge and he was a muscular, hyper masculine meathead.

I felt like he didn’t fit the stereotype, but then again neither did I. Was he a closet case like me?

At his apartment, we started to drink more beers from his refrigerator. We kicked off our shoes and watched UFC on the couch. I could smell the warm scent of his socked feet. Smelly socks were a big turn on for me! It was an aphrodisiac.

Continue reading My Night at Pledge Brother Chris’ Apartment

Metalbond Q&A: Thunder

In an interview, “Thunder” — author of the stories James and Every Dog Has His Day in the Metalbond Prison Library — discusses his most recent experiences involving serious, long-term dog training, his being turned into a “cuckdog,” the time he spends on two legs vs. four, and much more. See below.

 

OK Thunder, your most recent story, James, has been very popular with readers of this site. Can you give us an update?

Now that I have retired, Alan has requested that I wrap up the story of my training so I can spend some extended time without having “the burden” of bipedal-ness or the “additional trouble” of having to make decisions about things like clothes, food, and social activities. I therefore can’t promise more of the story — but in an effort to help, Alan suggested an online interview to update readers and help wrap things up.

 

Can you tell readers what percent of the story “James” is true and what percent is fantasy?

All of the basics about training are considered true as well as the stories of how I was trained and what my life is like now. The reality is that I did not accept the training as well as I portrayed, and there was a lot of back and forth about why Alan would want this and a deep wonder if I had failed him as a human husband. We did get through everything, and it all became easier once I started accepting that my life was going to be different and, if I wanted to stay with Alan and stay in our home, I would have to make a change. I have never regretted making a change, except when I want a pizza and am in a kennel.

 

Can you tell us more about Todd the trainer?

Sir Todd is the sexiest police officer I can ever imagine. In hindsight, I had no idea he was as kinky as he was and really had no idea that he and Alan had been sexual partners since they met sophomore year at Georgia Tech. He’s in his mid 50s now, but he still has a flat belly with at least 4 abs, beautiful blond and gray sweeping hair.

He is a kind man, but VERY direct when he wants to be and is one of the best trainers I have ever been around. He still owns Cody, who maintains his role as dog almost 24/7, but now owns two additional slaves who take care of Cody and me when he and Alan travel. Both of the slaves are fellow Atlanta police officers, and one is leaning toward a life on fours with us when he retires in two years.

 

The term “cuckdog” is something that you included, and that has gotten many readers excited. Had you and Alan discussed gay cuckolding at all prior to the dog transformation, or was that a natural extension of James’ transformation?

It was a natural extension, I think. In fact, before he transformed me, none of our friends had ever seen me naked, which makes me laugh since now they chuckle when they see me in clothes. The reality of this is that cuckolding was just another way Alan and Todd choose to remind me of my place. And, as a dog, I have zero say in it. If I remember correctly, the first night of my cuck status I was being punished for something and Alan decided that watching him get fucked was going be that. We all liked it more than we expected, and it continues today, even though I am usually caged with Cody when it’s happening.

 

This story has touched so many readers, most of whom want to read MORE MORE MORE from you! Can you continue the story? What about your previous story, Every Dog Has His Day, which I am thinking is more fantasy. Can you write more of that story?

If Alan allows I can certainly write more and will, but I would hope readers would leave some of what they want to know. As for the first story, Every Dog, it is about 50/50 fantasy, as we know a Master who does have a father-and-son pairing as pets (late 50s and mid 30s). I do not know how they really came to both be enslaved, and the Dad still has his dental practice four days a week but does come back to the farm each night. In this case the Dad is all dog, but the son, who is BEAUTIFUL and did quit his job as a reporter for an Atlanta TV station, spends a great deal of time as a pony pulling carts and working on the farm each day.

 

There are many guys who are into puppy play and even “puppies and handlers” parties at events like MAL, but this is serious dog training, which is something much more intense. Is there an underground community for guys into this sort of training?

Well, I don’t know about any underground groups, but just as we and our friends have come together I would suspect that there are lots of others. As for puppy play vs. dog training, I see this as ENTIRELY a different thing. With no disrespect for the puppies, I am really a slave who moves on fours more so than just assuming a role. Will some of the puppies be like me? Maybe, but I doubt many are ready or committed to do what we did. Remember, we were older and had an income where I could pull back and we could invest in gear and the like.

 

Speaking of gear, can you tell more about the actual physical restraints, hoods, plugs, devices, etc., that you use for this type of play and where to purchase such gear?

Mr. S. Leather is our go-to place for everything we have not had custom made. I am often in shackles or at least locked cuffs and usually in a custom version of their Asylum Hood. I am a human dog, so a human hood is where I live, not a puppy mask. All of our chastity gear is custom made by Steelwerks Extreme, and most of the leather or latex has been custom made.

It should be said, Alan has made a lot of modifications to our house through the years, like wide floor-level showers with push-on and -off taps, a fenced area that runs the length of the side of our house with a custom dog door for me under the window (it’s covered with art when not in use) and various points of restraint hidden in invisible outlets all over the house.

 

What is the longest time period that you know of (either yourself or someone you might know) in which a human has been in dog mode without a break? Has it been days? Weeks?

For me, it’s been about three weeks continuous, BUT there are always times I walk on two legs, like going up and down stairs and to shower, but I did not go back into human mode (clothes on or leaving the house) for those three weeks. For Cody, it has been years since he’s had a human day where he made decisions, purchases, etc., but he’s also had time on twos for the same reason. It’s funny, we were together recently and he was rewarded with a bottle of Diet Dr. Pepper, and I had to laugh at the thought he actually had to take in order to open the bottle. He’s that conditioned. I am a bit jealous.

 

So it is possible for a human dog to be kept in “dog mode” even while being on two legs. Is that perhaps a bit like hypnosis?

I am still in dog mode even when on two legs, unless at work or somewhere I HAVE to be human (banking, doctors appointments, etc). When Alan and I go to a dinner or to shop, I have an invisible leash attached and know exactly how to follow him, etc. He loves this. But my mind thinks “PROTECT” at all times, so I am constantly aware.

 

How does Alan feel (good or bad) about your being a dog? Does he miss the human you?

I think Alan wishes he had made me a dog years earlier. When he misses the human me or when that side is needed, such as during the deaths of our parents, the collar comes off and we act as “typical” as possible, though I am less likely to start conversations and am prone to chase cars in parking lots.

 

What is something that readers might be surprised to know about you?

As if the executive dog thing is not enough? Let’s see, I think people who meet me/us are often shocked how normal we are, especially in human mode, and that we are very fit, quite attractive and have chosen a lifestyle FOR US first and foremost.

Alan and I have both been featured in magazines in our lives for our professions and looks.

 

Any chance we might see pictures at some point?

There is a chance, but it would be a vanilla picture with no hint of anything kink. Those pics are honestly just not done, as we have too much to lose should there be a leak, etc.

 

Do you have anything you would like to add?

If readers have direct questions that I can respond to, I am sure Alan will let me respond in kind.

Edge Dungeon: A Short Recap of My Weekend Experience

By socalbd

I recently had the opportunity to experience The Edge Jail and Dungeon with a group of like-minded bondage friends. The facility is amazing. The jail is a legitimate cellblock setup. The dungeon has a variety of gear and equipment for use. Even after being home over a week, now, the mental high hasn’t worn off yet. The experiences our group was able to have were highlighted by the jail setup. If you’ve seen photos on the web site and wondered if all of that was real, it is real … very real. When the cell door closes, you are in jail.

The owner and the guys that helped build it put a lot of thought into what they conceived. I was constantly surprised by the smallest details that were there to be found, used and enjoyed. Great work! A Yelp or TripAdvisor review didn’t seem appropriate for this experience. We would give it 5 stars if we could. So in lieu of that this opportunity, thanks to Metal, I want to share some of the experience.

Here are a couple of examples from my inmate experience over the long weekend.

the Edge Jail and Dungeon

 

Intake:

My one bondage buddy and I arrived before the rest of the group. We made better time on the drive. Since the two of us were to initially be inmates to the “guards,” we were strictly forbidden from entering the jail space of the facility when we arrived. Our host gave us a tour of the rest of the facility on our arrival minus the cellblock.

Once the rest of the group arrived and we got settled in after unloading the cars and sharing a meal together, those of us that were to initially be inmates were herded into the dungeon space along with the stack of inmate clothing we were going to be wearing shortly. My buddy was the first to be taken to his cell.

When it was my turn I was roughly turned around, handcuffed and had a capture hood placed over my head and cinched tight around my neck. I couldn’t see anything. I was walked, more like pushed and manhandled, through the facility to the cellblock and into cell #2. I was stopped inside the cell and after a moment I heard the clanging of the cell door close behind me. I was then ordered to back up slowly toward the bars.

One of the guards reached through the bars and removed the capture hood. What I saw in front of me was the cinderblock of the rear of the cell, painted in a two-tone institutional color call out. The stainless steel prison toilet and combination sink unit was mounted in the right rear corner. To my left was the cot. A thin plastic mattress was covered in an institutional sheet as was the very thin plastic pillow. A coarse, dark grey blanket was folded at the end of the cot. Also on the cot was my prison uniform – orange pants and short sleeve shirt, white undershirt and briefs, white socks.

I was ordered to lift my wrists slightly for the handcuffs to be removed. When the left cuff was removed I had to put my hand on top of my head. After the right cuff was removed I was standing still facing the back wall with my hands on my head and fingers interlocked.

This inmate was then ordered to turn around and strip naked. Clothes were to be folded neatly and handed through the slot including the shoes I was still wearing. I immediately complied. Once I was naked I stood facing the guards with wrists again behind the head and fingers interlocked. I think they got some fun out of seeing this inmate standing there awaiting their next order. I was staring at the very real cell door. It was a legitimate jail cell door, and I was in a legitimate jail cell with cinderblock walls and a concrete floor. This was real.

I was finally ordered to get dressed. When I was finished I was ordered to approach the cell door and stick my wrists through the slot. My wrists were placed in regulation handcuffs. Next I was ordered to lift each ankle individually toward the cell bars. Regulation ankle cuffs were applied. The guards then left. There I was handcuffed, leg cuffed, in orange prison uniform behind a real jail cell door. I had to test the bars, of course. Nothing was budging. I was in for the duration.

Three feet in front of me was a solid wall that ran the length of the cell block. From my cell my view was that wall. I couldn’t see anything else. Even standing at the cell bars it was me and the wall. I could talk to my buddy in cell #1 but that was it. I was alone in my cell.

Eventually I decided to sit on the cot facing the bars. The reality sits in quickly. All I can see are the three cinderblock walls, the cell bars and sliding door, and the wall across from me. The cell was about 5-by-9. I could touch both side walls at the same time with arms outstretched if I wasn’t handcuffed. There was very little floor space left given the space the cot took up. The ceiling was lower in the cell than in the cellblock hallway. It was probably that way by design just to reinforce the reality of the situation and make an inmate feel that much more caged. The wall colors, the cell size, the steel bars, the lack of space in the cell were all mental reminders of what being a caged inmate was about. This inmate was doing time. You get in the headspace very quickly, especially with guards who are playing the part effectively with protocols, voice tone and physical power over you. Even the toilet is designed to be intimating. It’s stainless steel with just the molded rim to sit on. I quickly realized without a “seat” that pulls down even going to the bathroom as an inmate is different than in any other place — home, hotel, public restroom, anywhere one has to do their business in the outside world. This is all meant to reinforce the loss of freedom.

Eventually everyone was in their cells or confinement for the night. I can’t give it all away. It would take away from the first-time experience. When it was time for lights out, the lights dimmed low and I crawled under my very coarse blanket looking back and forth from the ceiling to the bars to the far wall and repeat. I was alone. I signed up for this. I asked for this. I craved wanting to know what this experience was like. This was just the beginning as I drifted off to sleep.

Solitary:

The facility has a solitary confinement cell. It was built in the mode of Alcatraz. There is a solid steel outer door with ports to open to look inside. Once inside the outer door there is a two-foot gap before the interior jail cell door meant to keep the guards safe from the inmate when the outer door is open. This makes the interior inmate area about 5-by-7. Attachment points are cleverly arranged throughout the cell to provide the guards with ample points to lock down the inmate.

One of my not so brilliant requests prior to our visit was to spend 24 hours locked in solitary. I’ve done 12 hours in a similar situation a few years back in a 4-by-8 space, locked in and alone. The headspace I went through in those 12 hours was amazing. My bondage buddies knew how much the solitary cell meant to me. I tend to like endurance positions and long stretches of bondage without contact to drive home my helplessness. They were ready and willing to provide a final day experience I wouldn’t forget.

On that final day around 1 in the afternoon I was taken to the solitary cell for some play. I was dressed in the orange prison pants and shirt and socks. B strung me up standing with wrists above head at either end of a spreader bar. Feet were free to move around and there was some slight slack in the overhead chain to the spreader bar. He returned with boxing gloves, which he used on me for a while. He had a lot of pent up aggression to get out it seemed. He then left me for about 30 minutes with both doors closed and minimal lighting on. When he came back it was time for a repeat session with the boxing gloves. He didn’t really say anything to me. His eyes boring down into my soul and his relentless strikes to my body did his talking for him. He left again for an hour, I think.

When he came back he asked how I was doing and I said ok. He said he wanted me to stay like that for as long as I could with my wrists in the spreader bar above my head. Did I mention he had collared me the night before? It was a nice thick, chain collar and a large padlock around my neck. He told me to make him proud. He would come to check on me. In all I think I was like that for three to four hours. He said I was a stud. B is hot!!! This period of time I was sub to him he owned me as much mentally as he did physically.

B was good enough to do welfare checks. He’s good like that. He understands the head space of keeping up the dom/sub dynamic but also understands the trust between the two players that is necessary to keep the sub knowing he is safe even when being physically and mentally challenged.

B eventually released me from this position, letting my arms down and taking me out of the cuffs and spreader bar. He ordered me to my knees and to lick his boots. I complied readily. Next he ordered me to take my cock out, jack off on his boots and then lick it clean. Again, I happily complied. B owned me.

He then said, “What now, stud?” I was horny. The cellblock was slightly on the cooler side, so most of us were always in some sort of clothing throughout the weekend. However, I was clearly in the zone, as it were. I suggested being stripped naked even though it was slightly cold in the space and to get chained spread eagle to the back cinderblock wall of the cell. He smiled at me and ordered me to strip while he got what he needed. I was chained to the wall naked, spread and had a capture hood cinched around my neck for the next couple of hours. There was some play, but also long stretches left alone again in the locked solitary cell.

When released from that I was given my clothes back and provided a dinner of a couple of protein bars, pretzels and water. No restraints were placed on me, and I was left in the cell again for maybe 90 minutes.

When B came back and told me I would be in for the duration until tomorrow morning so I could get what I wanted … hours in solitary. He gave me two blankets, put steel on my wrists and ankles and left. At no time did he open the jail cell door between us. Everything was done through the slot. I did my best to prepare myself for the night. The light was still on. Time is funny. I think I knew what time it was, but I really had no idea. In the cellblock, and in solitary, there are no clocks, no windows and no way to know what is happening outside.

Guard J checked on me about an hour later. J is another bondage buddy I trust implicitly and he has my number when it comes to my mental state and bondage. I had time to think about being alone in solitary all night before J did the welfare check. By then I was super horny and I was thinking about what I said I had wanted to do if I were able to experience this exact situation. I said I wanted to go all in. He knew what that meant. Within ten minutes I was naked and in my five way shackles I had brought along on the trip just in case this opportunity presented itself. J let me know there would be no release and no further in person checks until morning. We guessed it was about 10 at that point. Also, five minutes after J left he told me the lights would go out and send the cell into total pitch blackness. And that’s what happened.

Sleeping on the concrete floor on a blanket double-overed gave me some relief from the cold floor but no relief from how hard the concrete is for a body to lie on it. The other blanket went around me. Water and a piss bottle were left for me, both of which I had to get out of the blanket and find a couple of times in the pitch blackness during the night. Then I had to somehow figure out how to get back into my “bed” and of course navigate the small space (5-by-7 interior cell) while taking care of my bodily needs. And of course, each time I had to do that I was out from under the blanket, naked in the cool air, shackled and slightly bent over standing, bare foot on the cold concrete floor.

It got colder and colder in the cellblock throughout the night. To my mind I wasn’t getting much sleep. I thought I was actually awake most of the night. I didn’t realize when I woke up from time to time. It was very strange. In the pitch blackness of the cell when my eyes were open I saw black. When I closed them I started to see dancing colors. It was all very strange. The cold, the dancing colors in my eyes, the inability to get comfortable in any way at all, and my body hurting physically from lying on the hard concrete through the blanket, I was regretting this situation at times. Why did I want this? It’s the head game again. Be careful what you wish for, you might get it. It was delivered to me by my friends. It was a long night.

When J came to release me in the morning he said it was 8:30 AM. I was surprised. I thought it was 6 at the latest. Time is funny when you are locked up. From 1 in the afternoon the day before until 8:30 the next morning I never left the cell from the time I entered. And I got what was probably 10.5 hours of solitary with the lights out, naked and full body shackles. It sucked!!!! Doing the overnight in those conditions was not fun.

And I would do it again… and longer!

 

Metal would like to thank socalbd for the report!

The pictures above are courtesy of The Edge. Official website here.

The Edge jail and dungeon

James – Part 3

By Thunder

Based on a true story

He then sat down in that sexy chair and said, “I am about to lay out the ten basic ways you will be transformed into the perfect pet husband so play close attention…

As he said that, he stopped. He then told me to take a moment to take in my new environment and to begin to feel my submission creeping in. He said that Alan had told him I always loved the feeling of a hood, so they had the one I was now locked into custom made for my head with the idea that there might be times when I would be wearing it in excess of 24 hours. He told me to begin to find peace in this hood, and as he talked, I could feel it becoming more and more of a safe space to me. This hit a spot with me and, to this day, I crave that Alan will put me in that hood at least some point every single day.

When he knew he had relaxed me, Todd sat back down in his chair and stared at what would have been my two blue eyes looking out of darkness toward him. He said, “Alan has spent months deciding on what your new life will look like and he then asked me to weigh in on it and this is how we came up with the idea of these two weeks of immersive training. The following is a list of ten truths that will come to define you every single day of your life moving forward to some degree or another.

Continue reading James – Part 3

James – Part 2

By Thunder

Based on a true story

When we reached the cabin, I was relieved as I partly thought this was a game or a scene and that Alan would have driven up around us and be waiting there for me with a hard dick and a laugh telling me he hoped I enjoyed my time as a dog. In fact, I was almost sure it would be this or that I would go to the guest room we always used, have a good sleep, and that tomorrow morning Todd and I would have a talk about some training, have a laugh, and go for a hike, which we actually did do in ways so unexpected.

In reality, I could not have been more wrong, because when the hatch opened Todd appeared and told me I was a good dog, and then I heard a noise as he rolled some sort of cart up behind us. What I didn’t realize is that we had backed up to a makeshift loading dock, which I had helped him make when he was building this place, and Todd soon rolled a big four-wheeled cart up to the Jeep, attached cables to my cage, and I was then slid out to the cart where the cage was attached to the base.

Continue reading James – Part 2

James – Part 1

By Thunder

Based on a true story

My name is James. I am a 51-year-old man who has been married to his husband for 23 years. I am an athletic, masculine CEO of my own wealth management company in Atlanta, though I travel extensively. I am a high-profile, type-A, driven man in my professional life, but in my personal life, I am, well, I am a dog.

An all-fours, naked, collared human dog.

Yes, for the past ten years, I have been a full human dog owned by my husband, Alan, the owner of a local restaurant that is the go-to place for breakfast and lunch in Atlanta.

Last night, Alan and I hosted a small dinner party for four of our kink-positive friends. It was a casual evening with the five of them gathered around the kitchen island drinking wine and eating lots of great things that Alan had prepared. They said it was a beautiful display of food, but from my all-fours vantage point of about 3 feet off the floor, I couldn’t see the top of the high-top counter, so I didn’t really know what was there.

Continue reading James – Part 1

True Life Part 2: The Next Day

By ty dehner

After an exciting and long night, i woke around 10am. Sir was gone, i remember he had to be to work by 7.30. i slept right through his morning. Now I was feeling selfish. i should’ve been up to make his coffee (after i learned how he likes it), to put on his shoes and to take my assignments. And i would’ve given him a goodbye hug and kiss for the wonderful things he introduced me to last night.

Last night was great. Sir taught me so many things that i know i will use repeatedly to make myself better. when Sir got home he rested a bit and we talked about his day, family and working out. i removed his shoes and gave them a working over by massaging them. He then had me try on sweats he found and wanted me to wear and I cooked dinner. He let me eat off a plate this time, but i was on the floor at his feet. This was a good moment. i did things correctly, didn’t start eating until Sir did. i enjoyed my position of looking up at him. His conversations were interesting and continues to inspire me to continued growth and change. After dinner we had a moment of affection, hugging and kissing. Sir really makes a boi feel appreciated and loved. He makes me want to more to prove my desire to serve him further.

Continue reading True Life Part 2: The Next Day