Tag Archives: true stories


By Siratpdx

Recently, I connected with a young man of 25 over Scruff who was interested in me and wanted to explore and experience a deeper and more intense session with an older, more experienced person, focusing on impact and e-stim.  Our connection was very happenstance.  I had made a car trip from the west coast to Chicago a few months before, and I spent a night in a town near when he lives.  I am far from certain how the algorithms work, but I suggested that I ended up in his Scruff feed as an ‘echo’ of my presence from being in the area a few weeks before.

We chatted a few times over the phone and video.  I was impressed with him, and for me at least, it is not that often that I come across man who invokes more than a sense of chemistry, but a more intimate and spiritual connection that I would describe as limerence.  He is more than young enough to be my son, and in some ways we connected in that dad-son dynamic that only gay men really understand.

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My Trip to Jail

By CellShocked

Hampton Jail in IowaUsually, it’s the decisions that I make quickly and then act upon them that are my best decisions.  This telling will emphasize how a recent weekend (09/10/21 – 9/13/21) will have forever changed my life.

I live in an area that is not completely rural but doesn’t have much going on either.  I live right off of an interstate and can be in Boston in a couple hours, NYC is a 5-hour bus ride away, Manchester airport is an hour and a half away, so I can get to places.  But where would I go?  I absolutely hate going somewhere alone.  Now don’t misunderstand, I can travel alone but it’s the destination.  I need someone to force me to do new things.  I am so passive that I have let the world pass me by for the past 45 years.  I failed to take risks and really take that leap of faith.  The only way I can rationalize it is that anxiety and depression have owned my emotions all of my life.

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Parolee Journals

By Parole Officer J

My parolees are required to write a daily journal. Because this is such a physically distant and long-term bondage activity, it’s important to know what is going on in the parolee’s head. Are they happy? Pissed off? Feeling that they are being controlled? I need to know so I can help them avoid a full parole violation.

Having the parolee wearing a physical ankle monitor locked on their ankle is great! That makes part of the experience how to respond when someone discovers they are locked down. It also requires them to spend time “chained” to an outlet while they charge the ankle monitor. They can’t leave it home, their activity around their house is now limited further by the length of “chain” that charges the ankle monitor. There is typically no charge indicator so the parolee must charge without knowing if the device is nearly full or almost drained of power. The lights on the ankle monitor can’t be turned off, at night the blinking and flashing lights may be visible in a dark room. The ankle monitor has an expense for the physical device as well as recurring fees for the tracking and monitoring service.

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12 Hours

By Practicerestraint

All is true.—Shakespeare, Henry VIII


10:20 p.m.

The text message read: You have two minutes to get dressed and be ready. Unlock the front door.


10:25 p.m.

I was brushing my teeth when I heard the noise at the front door. Then I heard, “Police! Announce yourself!”

It’s hard to announce yourself with a mouthful of toothpaste. I spit, rinsed, and moved from the bathroom to the bedroom as the officer repeated himself and I called out, “I’m here.”

“Come out here!”

I walked into the dark hall to see a flashlight and a gun pointed at me. The officer’s specific words after that escape me. They were nonstop directions that ended only when I was lying face down on the carpet at the end of the hall, arms out to the sides, palms up. The officer knelt, grabbed my left wrist, pulled my arm to the middle of my back, and applied the handcuffs. After he brought my right hand back to complete the job, I realized he had my palms facing out. He instructed me to stand, providing assistance as I did. He grabbed my left arm and led me out the door.

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BondageVienna writes about his experience at Serious Male Bondage

Hey fellow prisoners, this is a RE-POST of a write-up that Bondage Vienna sent a few years back, when he was visiting Serious Male Bondage in San Francisco.

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Dear Metal,

I’m a fan of your site and I thought I would submit a few pictures from an incredible experience I had today.

But first, I just have to tell someone about the fantastic time I’m having in San Francisco … and it’s nice to share this with a fetishist like you.

I haven’t been to California in nearly 20 years, and in just a few days’ time I’ve seen the Dore Alley Fair, attended the play party of The 15 Association with a slave friend (boy, do those guys play!), and enjoyed the open house at Mr. S. What a great staff! There I met Skeeter, who was very helpful regarding an unusual request I had for gear modification.

The next time I’m in California I am hoping to visit Bind (MenInChains.com) and see his new facilities.

A bit about me … on recon and romeo I’m BondageVienna. My longtime internet friend RubCop told me about the Serious Bondage Institute, and after hearing his accounts of this place, I just had to visit these guys.

I’ve had some years of not too much action, and I’m trying to catch up on years of dormancy in the fetish world.

Well, today’s experience catapulted me out of dormancy once and for all.

As soon as I saw the shiny new cage sitting in the corner at the Institute, I wanted to spend some time in it. The plan … my plan, that is … was to see if I could last the night in it. But Mark and Dalton and MummyEd had a little more than that on today’s agenda.

The enclosed pictures tell more than thousands of words, but I would like to relate just a bit of the order of events.

I did actually spend the entire night in the cage. Trying to get some sleep was pretty much a lost cause. Cages are very hot for me and here I was, wearing rubber in it as well. I was so horny that I couldn’t sleep much at all, other than fleeting dreams of bondage.

Well, that’s the “B” word in the Serious Bondage Insitute, and believe me, these guys are serious about bondage!

Being fully enclosed in rubber all night, including a fantastic molded gas mask hood and heavy gloves, was just the starting point for Dalton. His use of metal was about to become known to me. The shackles he added to my boots and gloves were soon augmented by chains and locks, which forced me into an inverted position. Unbeknownst to me, MummyEd saw a new opportunity and grabbed a vibrator.

All this activity was getting me going pretty well, but for Dalton there was more to come. Metal, you will most certainly appreciate the size of the huge chains that Dalton attached to the cage itself. Soon the entire cage, including its occupant, began liftoff.

The suspension of the vibrator inside the already suspended cage guaranteed that liftoff was complete and successful … an overwhelmingly satisfying hour, unparalleled in my experience. It was a liftoff that even astronauts would envy.

I am hoping to earn enough hours in bondage here at the Institute to receive their ‘Certificate of Bondology’ diploma, a coveted document which may open doors to further bondage events worldwide.

Thanks to Mark, a video of my visit will be available on their SeriousMaleBondage.com site in the future.

P.S. I’d be glad to send you more photos if these guys ever let me out of this cage. According to my best judgment, It’s been about 14 hours now …



gay bondage IMG_5741-A IMG_5754-A IMG_5758-A IMG_5786-A


Thanks, Bondage Vienna, for writing about this!

Several VIDEOS of Bondage Vienna at Serious Male Bondage are available:




male bondage videos

Tied and Fucked by Motorcycle Boy Eric

By SockgaggedJason

SockgaggedJason story gay demonShortly after I moved to California, I had my first bondage role play experience. It was with an attractive motorcycle guy named Eric. Both of us were young men, I was 23 at the time and he was 25. We met on a website and worked out the details of the fantasy role play when we determined we were cool. He wanted to be the “top,” he said he didn’t bottom. I accepted.

He came over one weekend night and roleplayed as if he was robbing my apartment, catching me asleep. I had left the front door unlocked so he could walk in. Because we both liked sports gear, I had suited up in football pants and a jersey. He came over in his full motorcycle racing leathers including tight fitting leather race gloves.

He “surprised” me in my sleep and handcuffed me quickly so he could get the scene situated. I got an erection the moment those cuffs were snapped around my wrists. He “warned” me to stay quiet, or else.

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Copdar – The MP

handcuffed by an MP

The MP

By Cuffsandcops

I have had a lot of good luck finding items that tickle my fetish fancy on social media marketplaces. In the Spring, I scored 3 pairs of handcuffs from an officer leaving the field from Delaware. A few weeks ago, I found a flat leather duty belt with a black buckle that belonged to an NYPD officer. After talking with him, I ended up buying a handcuff case, radio holster, glove pouch, flashlight holder, key case, and a hidden key clip. He even threw in a NYPD patch and one for his specific unit which was the Counterintelligence Bureau.

Police related gear is my primary fetish but I also have a liking for wristwatches. Earlier this summer I jumped in the pool with one of my favorite watches on my wrist. It hadn’t been properly sealed after a battery replacement and ended up looking like a fish tank. My jeweler did everything he could to salvage it, but the watch was ruined. I was on the hunt to replace my GShock Mudmaster GG-1000. I found one on marketplace that had a dead battery and was located about an hour away from me, right near the area’s military base.

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My Stay at Franklin County Historic Jail

By Johnny Utah
jail cell roleplayI was in jail.

My guess it was between 3 and 4 in the morning. There is a courthouse nearby with an old-fashioned clock that sounded the hour, but I didn’t I remember hearing the bell.

I had finished pissing as quietly as I could in our cell’s piss bucket. I adjusted my orange boxers and snapped up the bottom snaps of my orange jumpsuit. I gingerly shuffled to my bunk. All prisoners wore leg irons, even at night and they could make a racket. I didn’t want to wake my cellmate. We had been moved around the three available cells during our stay, so we had different cellmates, or were alone in solitary. Tonight, my cellmate was Ryan. Ryan is a well-built North Carolina guy a bit over six feet tall. He had half of a thin gray blanket over him from the waist up. It was the start of a hot July, but our cell was exposed to the full blast of the cellblock air conditioner. We both slept in our orange jumpsuits.

Continue reading My Stay at Franklin County Historic Jail