Tag Archives: true stories

When I Confessed Everything to Kenneth

By SockgaggedJason

male bondageSynopsis: This is a true story about the time I confided to my best friend Kenneth, while in high school, that I like male bondage and sports gear. He surprises me by engaging in tie up session while we are suited up in football and basketeball gear. And we make a video tape of it.

This is a recollection of the night I confessed to my childhood best friend that I was probably gay and that I had a sports gear and bondage fetish. We were both just teenagers; seventeen years old. Let me tell you why it happened, how it unfolded, and most importantly how he reacted. It may surprise you.

If you read this, you may think I’m exaggerating or embellishing certain parts of this true story but I am not.

It was a school night like any other but I was depressed. I was fairly popular, I had played sports, and stayed active. I had so many secrets and desires that ate me up, however, and this particular night was more teenage angst than I could handle.

Continue reading When I Confessed Everything to Kenneth

Jax and Staggz – Chapter 1

By SockgaggedJason

Special note: This is gay BDSM related and sexual but heavy on kinks like smelly socks, sports gear, and humiliation roleplay. Characters are real men over 21.

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

 

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.

Continue reading Metalbond Q&A: Thunder

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