By Steellock

Here I am, sitting in a steel cage, a long penis gag in my mouth with my wrists and ankles locked into a rigid bondage bar. It’s been an hour and I’m starting to get very sore arms and my back is starting to spasm.

How the fuck do I get into these situations?

A few hours earlier I had been wandering though Soho at a loose end and looking for a bit of fun. As I passed one of the fetish shops I browsed the window and was handed a flier for a party in one of the clubs. They have a dungeon bar in their cellar and tonight it was open for fun. There was a strict entry dress requirement – leather only …

Well that was OK; I was in thick leather jeans and my boots with a black polo shirt. Should be fine.

The guy on the door was a tall, muscle-bound hunk in a tight black T shirt and jeans who gave me a look over and waved me on through, so I headed off down the stairs following the sound of the music and the babble of many guys chatting and having fun.

As I stepped into the space I saw that I was fairly early, still floor and bar space free but quite a few guys in every kind of leather from bikers to a few in leather jocks and harness. Some great bodies on show too …

Also I saw there were three cages, all currently empty, in a line down the middle of the bar.

I caught the eye of the barman, a young guy in bondage shorts and a harness, and ordered a beer. When he brought it I asked about the cages. He explained that they were open to anyone but that there were conditions. He pointed at the first of them where a skinhead was being led over by another barman also in shorts and harness.

It was a tall standing cage. Hanging from the top was a steel head cage and there were restraints already locked ready.

The skinhead was in black boots and Bleachers. He had a tough looking body, muscle and with some tattoos across his taut abdomen and shoulders.

He was backed into the cage and the barman buckled up and tightened the restraints on his boots, spreading his legs as far as the narrow cage would allow and then pulled his wrists to the back at each side, buckling them in too.

The guy was obviously getting very hard.

Then the head cage was opened. It hinged on one side. The skin’s head was pushed back so his neck was in the tight collar. At that point I noticed that the front had a built-in gag. A long rubber dildo; must have been 120mm long. As the front of the cage was pushed shut it forced it’s way into his mouth pushing his chin down so the cage would only just close. I could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he fought the gag reflex and swallowed repeatedly.

A padlock was clicked in place locking the head cage. The guy’s cock got even harder and he struggled a bit to test out the bondage – he could hardly move a muscle!

The barman shut the front of the cage, clicking on three padlocks on the sections of the door. The front pushed against the Skinheads chest; it was not much space at all!

He flipped a card sign from ‘Vacant’ to ‘Engaged.’

I turned back to the guy behind the bar and asked what were the conditions. ‘Well that one is that you have to stay locked in all night and you have to take any tit-clamps or pegs that anyone wants to apply. He’s going to hurt a lot and be very sore in the morning!’ was the answer.

I looked at the other two cages. One was a doggy cage with a neck restraint on one end and restraints in each corner for wrists and ankles. Next to it was a rubber hood with a large funnel attached, the hose running into a long rubber gag. It was obvious what that one was for! Poking into the back was a fuck machine. That one would be an intense night!

The third cage was a little higher and lying inside were a rigid double wrist ankle bar, a gag and a cock chastity cage.

‘What’s the deal there?’ I asked.

‘You stay all night in the cage locked into the bar with the gag in. There may be a little electro if it takes guys fancy; actually usually does. If you ask to get out then you have to wear the chastity cage all week and go back into the cage next weekend for another go.’ was the answer. The barman grinned at me. ‘You tough enough?’ he asked. By this time I was hard and feeling very horny. It had been months since I had a good bondage session and my hormones were racing…

I turned and looked him in the eye and said ‘Hell yes but only if it’s you who puts me into it and you put the chastity cage on now.’

His grin got even wider and he came out from behind the bar and caught me by the back of the neck.

So here I am. I watched the bar fill up. I watched a leather biker guy get locked into the third cage; the zip in the back of his leathers pulled down and the fuck machine introduced to his butt. It’s been punching away for about an hour now. He’s right in front of me so I know he’s cum at least twice. Every so often my barman comes over and puts some lube onto the dildo and then grins at me. He gave some guys a mean twin pinwheel linked to an estim box and pointed them in my direction. Fuck that hurt when they ran it over my tits. Then they went off to have a piss; into the funnel of course.

I should have found this place years ago but fuck, my back and arms hurt. Perhaps if I give in and want out just before closing time they will make me come back next week; now there’s a thought …

The End

Metal would like to thank the author, Steellock (formerly known as Sailing Master), for this story, which is posted to the Prison Library with his permission. You can read much more gay bondage fiction by this guy by visiting his very own story page, available here.

By Rubbag

TRAINING OF UNIT 6 COMPLETED AFTER

3 DAYS 22 HOURS AND 14 MINUTES

CORE BODY TEMPERATURE 26C

CONFIRM

The message flashed once more on the control pad before Augustus pressed the Confirm symbol, letting the pad go blank as he put it to one side. He leaned forward, his elbows onto the desk, his palms pressed together resting against his mouth. According to the time stamp, Unit 6 had been ready since last night, but it seemed churlish after such an effort to rush these last moments. No, he would spend a little time contemplating his triumph.

Two young men, both were strong-willed before their transformation into mindless units, trophies on his wall. They were both in position Storage Mounted 01, heads down, arms tight to their sides, legs together, feet pointing to the floor. The first position of their training is also their last, a symmetry of which Augustus approved.

There is a click as he turns on the recorder.

“Control, activate Unit 6 and Unit 5 and present them.”

There is that little pause as the Control System waits to ensure that its Master has finished issuing instructions.

And then their heads rise up perfectly in synch, blank silver eyes staring forward. Their arms move out from their sides by only the length of a hand, but from the tips of each finger a subtle curve grows up through each arm.

There is a slight whirr of gears and they begin to descend, but not simply to the ground. The bar they’re mounted on swings forward and down along a curve, and they simply alight as if weightless, sliding free of the dildos in one easy movement.

They walk forward towards Augustus like dancers, graceful and unsettling, each movement too like the one before. Augustus rose to his feet as they take the two steps down to the main floor of the office. Feeling himself aroused as he watches the light reflect off their rubber skin. Bodies, muscle, ripped and perfect rippling beneath their new skin. In perfect time they both reach the centre of line of the room, every movement in synch, slaves to their control impulse.

They stop.

Frozen.

In place.

Augustus catches his breath.

Feels his blood racing.

As he looks at their beauty, at their emptiness.

He walks out from behind his desk.

Passing to the right.

Breaking contact with them.

As he looks down to the floor of the Club below.

At the four units on display there.

Four soon to be Six.

He turns back to look at the two behind him.

He passes behind Unit 5, lightly brushing his hand over its ass but giving it no more regard than this, it has already been active, its story already complete on tape. He glances to his left at the tape recorder on the desk, reel slowly turning, microphone in place. And then he is beside his latest creation, and even his disciplined mind is for a moment overwhelmed by the perfection of his work.

“Perfect.”

“Simply perfect.”

He takes a step back.

Just a moment to look at the pair together.

Their backs arched, their arms gently curved right down to the fingers and held just a little forward of centre. Their legs stiff, like their bodies, held upright but still somehow poised as if on the cusp of going forward. Then he remembered the model for this position, a floor gymnast ready to run forward.

He moved in closer again, letting his hand glide down the smooth surface of the back, like rubber, like glass, cool and clear. Then he moves around to the front, gently moving its right arm out of position and then watching with amusement as it slowly returns to its original position.

He stops again only inches from the Unit’s chest and looks up to the masklike face. The Unit still shares Jed’s beauty, but now that beauty is cold and hard, the features more angular, more uniform. The hair, the skin, even the inside of the mouth coated in a thin sheen of bio rubber, making the skin hard, making it shiny, like a manikin in a shop window. He looks across to Unit 5, to what was once Josh, and sees the same features, the same stiff blond hair, the same blank silver eyes. They did not know it, but in reality they had been controlled for the past five years, their lives leading to this moment. Guided to the same college, their SATs adjusted to match, they had been placed in the same dorm room, even their growing love for each other had been carefully managed.

Augustus let fingers gently trace down the face of the Unit, Unit 6.

“Nothing to say, Jed?”

There was no response.

Not the slightest flicker of movement.

He had not expected any.

He let his gaze and his hand wander down between the deep V of its chest before gently teasing his nipples, still erect, still trying to strain out through the rubber of the chest, their perfect dimes of red now pale through the rubber coating.

Nothing.

And then his hand runs down, exploring the smoothed slabs of each ab in turn.

And then he feels it.

He sees it.

Its swollen cock and balls.

Folded in on themselves.

Still packed, still held in chastity.

Packed and crushed.

Not enough room.

Even less as he squeezes it.

Firmly in his hand.

He looks back into its face, but there is nothing.

No pain.

No pleasure.

No desire.

Only.

“Nirvana,” the man whispers to himself, perhaps too quiet to be recorded.

He looks again into its silver eyes, blank and empty.

It is empty.

It is blank.

No thought.

No consciousness.

Except that which the Control System gives to it.

“How do you feel?”

Nothing, it is empty.

But there are still rules.

“Unit Six, how do you feel?”

He steps, releases his grip on it and steps back, watching as its head tilts just a little to the right as it listens to its new thought.

[ –This–unit–is–unit-six–it -has–no–thou-ghts–or–des-ir-es–Sir– ]

Its voice cold and monotone.

The man had of course expected this response. The question was meaningless to it, so it had reverted to its primary default response.

“Unit Six, do you remember Josh?”

The same tilt of the head and.

[ –This–unit–is–unit-six–it -has–no–thou-ghts–or–des-ir-es–Sir– ]

Not the slightest flicker of recognition on its face, the two boys had been lovers and now they stand not ten feet apart, each of them now a blank without awareness, without desire, each perfect in their emptiness. Augustus turns and walks to the desk where the recording reel still spins slowly. He stands beside it close to the microphone, ignoring the urgent flashing light on the intercom. Marcellus can wait, wait until the last few words of this game have been spoken, words that only Augustus will ever hear. Despite the two silent figures behind him, he knows that by any objective measure he is alone in this room.

“Do you remember what you said to me, Jed, on the cell phone?”

Watching the reel spin almost to its end now.

“You said you would never call me Dominus, and I said there would be plenty of time for that later, Jed.”

The man looks up again at the boy.

At the object.

“Unit Six, identify this speaker.”

A mindless object which tilts its head just a little to one side.

[ –Yo-u–are– ]

Too simple to have thoughts of its own.

[ –des-ig-na-ted — ]

Having to be told what to think what to say.

[ –Dom-in-us–ze-ro- one– ]

An object obedient now only to Control Channel 6 Control.

[–Yo-u–are– Au-gus-tus– ]

And then it is empty again.

The man takes one last, long look at the silent figures before him. Allowing himself to savour his domination over them, feeling all the years of effort which have led to this moment. Two young men, two college jocks irreversibly reduced to mere automata to be owned and enjoyed.

“Goodbye, Jed.”

Augustus smiles even as he uses the boy’s redundant name for the last time.

“Ending this recording of subject Jed Bishops acceptance into 24/7/ Life ownership by the Strict Club in settlement of all outstanding debts as agreed between both parties. End.”

Click and stop as the recording winds back in. The light on the intercom is still flashing, urgent to the sender but not to Augustus, it can wait for a few more moments as Augustus carefully put away the tape, all that remains of the boy’s old personality.

There remains only.

“Control, set Unit Five and Unit Six to duty cycle three, proceed.”

Unit 5 moves first, being first in the command queue, its arms go down to its sides as it takes a step back and then turns smoothly to its right. One step and then another and then the original turn is repeated to leave it facing the entrance through which it is to leave. Unit 6 begins to move, its arms go down to its sides and then it turns to the left, one step and then another and it reaches the center of the room only seconds behind the previous unit. Augustus opens the old-fashioned folder on his desk, he does not watch them leave, they no longer matter.

The light on the intercom is still flashing insistently.

At last he flicks the intercom open.

“Yes, Marcellus?”

There is a pause, and then the voice of Marcellus comes through above the faint old analogue crackle of the speaker.

“Have you had time to consider who our second driver should be?”

Augustus picks up a photograph from inside the folder. The photograph is slightly blurred. Taken surreptitiously, it shows a young man in a black rubber wetsuit who has just emerged from the water, which fills the frame behind him. He is obviously a triathlete, wearing a navy swim cap, swim goggles, a nose clip, his head tilted to his right as his left arm reaches back over his shoulder, searching for the zip as he runs.

“And who would you recommend, Marcellus?”

He looks at the photograph beneath the same young man, an interesting face, very boyish, made more so by the lightly rounded forehead looking much younger than his 24 years of age.

“Candidate one, Thomas Empson.”

Thomas was indeed the best of the three candidates, his body slim and athletic, an amateur triathlete of some success. He was also the oldest and most experienced as a chauffeur, the other two can be kept in reserve for future need.

“Agreed, are you ready to proceed?”

Indeed, Thomas’s file was the only one on his desk.

“Yes, we can have him here next weekend, he likes shooting craps, thinks he’s good.”

Two years of careful work guiding the boy to this moment.

“I look forward to meeting our young friend. See to it, Marcellus.”

And with a flick of his finger, Augustus closes the com link before again picking up the photo of the boy in his wetsuit. The boy looks good in his black rubber, water streaming from his body.

Perhaps in some way, this boy has always known he was destined for rubber.

And the file is closed.

THE END

Note from Metal

I would like to thank the author, Rubbag, wherever he is, for writing this story. This is certainly one of the all-time greats, when it comes to cock-in-your-fist gay bondage stories. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I did preparing it for posting here. Merry Christmas, fellow prisoners!

The original source of this story is the popular RUBBERZONE site, which features a vast library of content — including many, many more excellent stories like the one above, plus pictures, original videos and user profiles.

Squirm, proprietor of Rubberzone, granted me his blessing to share this story here. I did copy edit the original manuscript, fiddling with some of the grammar, punctuation and spelling, to make it a bit easier to read. I hope the original author won’t mind.

Again, huge thanks to Rubbag, Squirm and Rubberzone.

And, if you fuckers have not already done so, I would strongly encourage you to go over to the Rubberzone site now, and explore.

Be sure to sign up for an account over at Rubberzone if you have not already done so:

In this new issue, they are running the complete ‘Chastity Suit’ story. A bonus, if you go to Rubberzone, is that you can find a bunch of other stories by the same author posted there.

Click for Rubberzone.

Fucking hot if you ask me.

By Kevin’s Path

I got my first gig in the New York fashion industry when I was seventeen. I stood outside the entrance of Hollister on 600 Broadway in the summer months wearing sunglasses and swim trunks to bring in foot traffic off the street. I smiled and greeted all the girls entering the store and also their wary boyfriends.

I was still only nineteen when I got the first big break that was going to launch my career as a fashion model. I auditioned and scored a really high profile holiday ad campaign for Equinox. You might remember me – if you got one of those postcards in the mail last December? It had a color photo of a buff naked guy standing with a big smile, chestnut hair, and carrying an old-fashioned steam radiator chained to my wrist, tastefully hiding my junk. It said, “Happy Holidays from Equinox! We hope you like nothing.” Then on the back, it had a coupon for a zero first month down payment on a membership.

That was a very successful campaign for them, and they really liked me. When it ended, I started asking my agent if he could, maybe, on the strength of it start sending me out to try for something more ambitious, like a Calvin Klein billboard or even a Nasty Pig. I would smile sweetly and knock out the next closest model with a baseball bat if it got me an underwear ad. However, men’s fashion is a very competitive business. In the try-outs for Calvin they said my bulge was too big; so, that door didn’t open for me.

Instead, my agent sent me out for a job at a boutique high-end bed-and-bath store called Perfect Bounce – Perfect Sink. The store was promoting a new luxury bed set that featured an engineered $10,000 mattress with an unprecedented high number of individually wrapped innerspring coils, each of which was injected with nanogel foam elastomer. It had an unusually narrow target market, designed to conform to the contours of a man’s body for unequaled satisfying sleep support. It also advertised noiseless silent springs with perfect bounce and optimized sinkage without transfer of motion for active nighttime use. It was called The Pretty Boy Sleep System. They needed a pretty boy to put in it, and I needed a job.

[[WARNING: This story contains extreme elements that some readers might find objectionable. Continue reading at your own risk.]]

The store was downtown on MacDougal Street, and the whole street level front face of it, including the entrance door, was clear plate glass. They had set up a display model of this bed set in a mock-up bedroom in the front window. Everything was snowy white with a blue snowflake pattern accented by hints of green holly. There was a sprig of mistletoe hanging down above the bed. The message, “Take a Pretty Boy Home for Christmas” was transferred onto the front plate glass as a decal. I reported for work at about 8:00 pm prior to the store closing time. I would get naked and climb into the luxurious bed in the front window. They would turn on soft lighting that nevertheless spotlighted me. They gave me silk sheets, which were opaque but also closely conformed to my body underneath. I sleep pretty soundly on my stomach most nights; so, it was all very PG rated. Occasionally, I guess my leg or my butt cheek slipped out from under the sheet while I drooled on the pillow. I would sleep there through the night so that evening holiday shoppers and couples going out to dinner and affluent urban males out walking their dogs could see me sleeping in the bed, and it would plant the seed of wanting the Pretty Boy Sleep System.

It was such a great gig for me, because I was truly getting paid in my sleep. I would drowsily get out of bed in the morning at about the same time when businessmen were coming out of their downtown apartments to go to work in the financial district. I would sheepishly rub the sand out of my eyes and pull a goose down pillow across my hips as I exited the window to cover up my morning hard-on. One or a few morning customers in the store would occasionally applaud as I dashed to the changing room in the back. And then, I had the whole day to go audition for other jobs, work out, go to a movie, or do anything else I wanted. It was great.

The store was selling lots of beds also. The store owner, Ernie, really liked me. He said to me, “Bobby, I don’t know if the customers are buying these mattresses because they really want them or because they really want you, but I am taking full advantage of their confusion!” He patted me on the shoulder. I was like an adopted son to him. He promised he’d invite me to his New Year’s Eve party and introduce me to his daughter about my age.

Putting me in the display window overnights was Ernie’s idea. Then, Ernie got another idea as the marketing campaign continued. He called me into his office one morning. I hustled out of bed straight over to his desk with just my pillow in my lap, because I knew he liked that. He said, “Bobby, you’re such a nice kid, and I hope you won’t take this the wrong way – just a suggestion. How … how would you feel if we changed this up a little … made the display a little more … little more, uhmm … how should I put it?”

“More hot, you mean?”

“More hot! Exactly!”

I knew this was coming around the bend sooner or later; so, I headed it off, “Yes boss! Great idea! I am onboard. You’ve talked me into it. I get it. So, whom did you recruit to be the top guy who fucks me in the display bed to demo the active nightlife capabilities?”

Ernie flushed and was speechless for a moment. “Oh, no. no. no. I wouldn’t ask you to do anything like that! Why … why would you even think that?” He looked me up and down standing in my bare feet on his Persian rug as if I’d suddenly without warning stuck a turd under is nose. Ernie took my pillow away. “Gimme that. It’s company property and belongs in the display window.”

“Sorry,” I said.

He actually wanted to change it up in a more subtle, non-pornographic way. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. He measured my ankle.

A couple days later, Ernie woke me up in the display bed when I felt something cold clicking shut on my left ankle, which was poking out from under the sheet. The single shackle was a solid stainless steel oval, fitting exactly, about one quarter inch thick and one and a half inches high. A brass padlock was built into the cuff. The shackle was connected with six feet of quarter-inch stainless steel chain to.. to what? I followed the length of it over the side where it locked to an o-ring, which I’d not noticed before, on the bottom face of the mattress.

“Sleep tight, kiddo,” said Ernie.

1. So, now I was chained to the bed by my ankle, and now the display window was slightly more edgy and eye-catching. Guys came in and bought even more Pretty Boy Sleep Systems.

Almost as if it were an oversight, Ernie one day “forgot” to unlock me in the morning. It got to be late morning with sun streaming in, me still naked in the window, not sleepy, wanting out of there. I had to piss in the flower vase by the lamp stand. I didn’t want to freak out and make a scene. This is my place of business, and I am a professional pretty boy after all. But, I didn’t understand this. People were coming in and out of the store as usual, but I didn’t ever see Ernie, and none of the salesmen were saying anything to me.

In the afternoon I was getting hungry and thirsty. Finally, I decided to do something. I wrapped the bed sheet around my waist so I wouldn’t be indecent and I went the full length of the chain to the door of the display window. I could open the door into the main part of the store, but I couldn’t go farther due to my attachment to the display bed. I was visible in the doorway and waved and whispered to Christoph, who is the salesman on duty in the afternoon. I asked him where Ernie was. He shrugged and said he didn’t know. I said I needed to get out of here, but he shrugged his shoulders again indicating nothing he could do for me.

“Could you at least give me something to eat, Christoph?”

“I’m pretty sure Ernie doesn’t want any food in the window display area. Crumbs will get on the mattress.”

“Christoph, c’mon!”

“Look, I’m with a customer now. Just get back in the window, will you fashion plate?” He shut the door on me, and I heard him lock the latch! I sat down on the floor next to the bed and just stared out of the display window. I felt like I was in a fish bowl. A guy in the street waved at me and blew a kiss, but I just stared back. I don’t know what I looked like. Come to think of it, I probably looked like a naked guy chained to a bed who can’t leave.

Customers came and went, but Christoph never found a moment for me. OK, he’s very busy. But then it got dark. The lights in the store went out. Christoph closed up and locked the front door. I knocked on the glass at him leaving, but he just paused and shrugged his shoulders again. Then he remembered something and came back in. Great! We’ll talk, and then he will finally get Ernie or do something constructive. After a moment the spotlights came up in the display window, then Christoph locked the front door again and went home.

I didn’t know what to do. I would call my agent, except that my phone was in my pants in the changing room. Unaccountably, Christoph’s only concern about me being locked up here was to remember to keep me properly lighted overnight in the window. It started snowing outside. I yelled at the top of my lungs just to blow off steam. No one in the street really noticed, and the store was empty. Eventually, I pulled the sheet over me and went to sleep, hoping things would get better in the morning.

I was awakened suddenly when my bed sheet was ripped off. I said, “Stop. C’mon!” or something like that and instinctively rolled up and covered myself. It was James from Customer Service, whom I didn’t know well, and another guy with him whom I didn’t know at all. It was still dark out. The store hadn’t even opened for business yet. What’s going on?

James took hold of my two feet at the foot of the bed and pulled me right off onto the floor while the other guy started stripping the cover sheet and taking off the pillow cases. I landed flat on my ass on top of clear transparent plastic sheeting spread over the floor. I was sleepy and disoriented, and by the time I was sitting up on the floor, James was already wrapping me.

“James … uhm … why are you wrapping me?”

“Good news, Bobby. The situation is we’ve now sold out on all of the sleep systems that we had in stock at the warehouse, and finally the only thing left to go was this display model. Ernie and the sales guys have been working really hard to close a deal on it with a particularly difficult customer, and it’s done. So, now we need to box it up and deliver today.”

“Oh great! That explains everything. I guess you’d better unchain me from this bed then; otherwise, this customer is going to be really surprised when I show up attached. Heh!” Oddly, James didn’t laugh.

He plugged in a hot air gun and started shrink-wrapping my chest and torso. The hot air rapidly caused the shrink wrap to collapse tight around me pinning my arms to my sides. The warm plastic instantly collapsed tight around my waist, so tight I could see the indent where it conformed into the hole of my bellybutton. It collapsed around my chest until my nipples flattened out and spread into two brown silver dollar sized circular discs.

James explained, “Any salesman can tell you it is always a challenge to sell the display model of anything. The display model is perfectly good product, but yeah, somebody already slept in it. The bed has your smell on it; so we need to steam clean. You seem like a nice boy, so I assume you didn’t ever cum in the sheets, but just in case, we still need to give him all new freshly laundered sheets and pillowcases. Every little issue like that incurs a discount if the customer is any kind of a bargainer. In this case, they struck a deal that was acceptable after a lot of haggling. You need to be thoroughly checked out to make sure you haven’t got any bugs or diseases. Ernie says he’s concerned about that, because they got an extended warranty agreement.”

This was a practical joke obviously. “Right! This is really funny guys. We’re selling this Pretty Boy system as a complete package with boy included! That’s super!”

“Right, exactly. It says here on the invoice: ‘Deliver the display model to 1730 Lexington Ave. Apt. 36’ That’s you – the display model.”

I was being a very good sport playing along. “Hah, hah! No. No. You misunderstand. I’m a mens’ fashion model…, not a display mod….umphft!”

James pinched my nose and wedged a wide football shaped plastofoam packaging insert between my teeth. Then he wound plastic wrap around my face and shrink-wrapped my head. He pulled the pen off his clipboard and poked it into my nostrils to pop open an airway before I stated to suffocate. The plastic conformed tightly to my face and began to squeeze my nose down, but James was fully prepared with two short pieces of Tygon tubing. He jammed one up into each nostril just in time for the shrink force to flatten my nose down around them. The pressure was tremendous, but the tubing kept my nostrils flared out wide open. The plastofoam football also pushed my cheeks out balancing against the intense shrink pressure around my mouth.

“He looks like a cute little chipmunk now, doesn’t he Sam?”

“Yeah, he really does,” Sam agreed. “But I don’t see what the fuss is about. He’s about as sexy as a Ken doll, if you ask me.”

I couldn’t hear very well what they were saying after my ears mashed flat against my head. At the top of my head there was a shrinking long tube of extra plastic wrap sticking up in the middle after the lower portion had contracted into a dome around my skull. James neatly tied it up into a tight plastic top-knot and then hit it with the gun again to seal it completely. I could still see a little through the shrink wrap, but, the pressure of the plastic on my eyeballs made it difficult to blink or refocus my eyes.

James flipped me over on my back and asked Sam to keep me pinned down and hold my ankles up above my head. There’s that area with loose skin in between the backside of your balls and the front side of your anus – James grabbed me there and stretched out the skin of my taint as far as it would go. I heard and felt a rapid sequence of “click click click click click click click.” There was a delay before the pain sensation of it also traveled up to my brain. I made some kind of sound that was loud to me but may have only sounded like gurgling in my throat to the outside world. I couldn’t see now, because my eyes teared up and I was rapidly sucking air through the nostril holes.

James yanked on my mattress tag to make sure it was stapled into my taint securely. The tag was made of synthetic white woven cloth with printed writing on it in very small type. The tag was about three inches wide and about eight inches long hanging down from under my taint between my legs.

James said, “This tag has product use instructions, warranty information, and legal assurances that you are nonflammable, hypoallergenic, and so forth. Don’t let anyone remove your mattress tag, because it’s against the law! Understand?” James spoke slowly and loudly at me to make sure I could understand him. Dumbly, I nodded my head. I was in shock.

“There’s no such thing as speaking too slowly for a fashion model, is there Sam?”

“You sure got that right,” Sam agreed.

A third person rushed in, and I recognized it was my boss, Ernie. I’m like a son to him. I couldn’t see well, but I knew he was standing there horrified what these guys were doing to me. He’d make it right.

Ernie ran in breathless. “Oh my god! Oh my god! I’m winded. I thought I might not get here in time to make things right.”

I tried to make imploring, pitiful “I’m your son” noises at him, but I got too dizzy and had to stop. The shrink wrap finally pulled so tight that my chest couldn’t expand, and all I could do now was take rapid shallow sips of air.

“I see you are pretty well along already. You probably didn’t hear that this mattress needs to ship with our theft protection system installed, because that’s another thing we promised on this display unit.”

James and Sam said almost in unison, “Oh Christ, Ernie! Nobody told us! That would have been some screw-up, wouldn’t it?” There was some confusion and swearing and messing around that I didn’t understand. James complained to Ernie, “I don’t think I’ve ever installed one of these. I don’t want to screw it up.”

Ernie said, “Here, I know how. Hold him still for me. I’ll make this quick and easy for you kiddo.” Ernie grabbed me above my balls and then stretched them out and separated my balls from each other and pinched his thumb and finger together at a point high up my ball sack between them marking a place. He punched a theft protection tag through at the point.”

You were going to introduce me to your daughter!

I think I fainted briefly. Next I know, James was sitting behind me with my back against his chest holding me up rubbing my shoulder blades. “It’s OK champ. All over. You’re OK now.”

Ernie waved a security wand over my private parts, and the wand made a shrill beeping noise. He said, “It’s working, see?”

“It is a very effective theft deterrent because, first of all, the transponder is hidden high up his crotch behind his scrotum. His balls hide it completely, and the front of the locking pin is just a button sized piece on the front of his sack. His penis hangs down covering it. A thief wouldn’t know it was there. Even if he did, it would be very difficult to pull out the locking pin now that it’s embedded. This customer can be completely secure knowing there is no way to steal The Pretty Boy Sleep System without being tracked down!”

Ernie wished me well and told me in slow, loud words that my final pay check and a generous bonus would be mailed to my new address care of the customer that purchased me. He said if I ever need a reference, feel free to call on him. He said he’d understand if I can’t make it to the New Year’s party.

He inspected my junk one last time. “I must say, I am surprised and relieved to see that you are actually circumcised. From the way that you talk sometimes, I took you for either a gentile or a filthy European. I regret the misunderstanding.”

“Yes. Yes! This is a terrible misunderstanding,” is what I wanted to say instead of snorting and making a snot bubble, but he’d already turned his back on me. He patted my head affectionately going out and reminded James and Sam that I still needed to be delivered by 4:00 pm. “We’ll miss you kid.”

“There is just no predicting what a customer will buy, is there Sam? Is there really a deadly ring of bed thieves, which I never heard of, stealing high-end mattresses?”

Sam shrugged.

“And talking about ridiculous things people buy, what kind of knucklehead actually wants a luxury bed set with naked boy permanently chained to it?”

“I pray for it every night in my deepest, darkest heart,” said Sam.

“Yeah, I hear you,” said James.

Next came the medical technician. James explained to her that I needed blood work sent to a lab to screen for any existing diseases, and I needed to be caught up on all my vaccinations, because the typical mattress comes into daily/nightly intimate contact with all kinds of people that may harbor all kinds of parasites and germs. The typical mattress soaks up its own weight in cum, sweat and other bodily fluids during the course of its lifetime and is a fertile breeding ground for lice, crabs, and gastrointestinal chigger-mites.

Sam said, “Eww” while he continued packing out the nightstands.

James and Sam had gotten the mattress out of its bed frame and stood it up against the back partition wall of the display window. The bottom side of the mattress had a welded steel frame with bolt holes regularly spaced along the frame so that he could easily stand me up in the frame and then fix me to it. He started by zip-tying my left and right ankles to bolt holes on the bottom left and right sides of the frame where it meets with support struts. He fixed me in a standing position with a four foot distance between my ankles. It was a king size mattress; so, the entire width of it was a little over six feet. He had already shrink-wrapped my legs and thighs above and below the knee. He told me to stand still and not squirm, because I wouldn’t want the king-size mattress to fall forward and squish me like a bug underneath it.

James paused, leaving the skin on the sides of my buttocks and on the deltoids above my shoulders exposed long enough so that the technician could first draw blood and then administer about twenty intermuscular injections spacing them out over different muscle groups, right side and left side. I think she also gave me a tranquilizer, because I started spacing out and feeling unaccountably euphoric. I think at one point the mattress was turned onto its side and then upside down in the process of preparing it. I felt through the mattress the warmth of someone steam cleaning the opposite front surface while James continued fixing me to the back. He realized he could secure my legs better now that I was upside down and they weren’t supporting my weight. He used temporary lengths of 2×4 as spacers between my feet and knees to push my legs wider apart and combined that with more zip-ties to also tension them apart until he got my feet stretched out wide almost the full width of the bed. I made a Y shape pinned to the mattress. My ankle cuff and the steel chain hanging off it became a convenient point of attachment and a pull chain to help guide the mattress once they’d gotten it up onto wheeled dollies.

These guys were transport professionals, and they had an inventory of packaging inserts for every conceivable job. They packaged my package by heat sealing an egg-shaped clear plastic clam shell casing around my cock and balls – sealed to prevent me pissing on the merchandise during transport. Sam stuffed me with an inflatable ballloon log insert. They had prepared plastofoam blocks divided into two halves with head shaped cutouts to hold and protect the right and left sides of my head like bookends. I was rendered blind in the dark and unable to move my head anymore after Sam smeared some gaffers glue into the impressions of my head and then closed the two blocks together to encase me.

James and Sam worked together as a practiced team to carefully wheel the mattress out through the showroom on the dollies. Disoriented and dizzy, I felt like I was flying stretched out on a giant billowing kite. I heard many voices but couldn’t make any sense of what was happening. Then suddenly, I was frightened by the sound of loud sirens going off all around. In another moment the klaxons were silenced. “See, I told you it works!”

My blind, unblinking eyeballs were stinging full of water trapped under the tight wrapping. I didn’t understand any of it, but the only thing I could comprehend was that my balls and cock must have tripped the security beacon as I was transported out the door.

Metal would like to thank the author, Kevin’s Path, for this story.

Note to readers: There are two more parts to this story, but they include elements some will find offensive. I have therefore decided not to post any more of this one (although I am most grateful to the author). If you absolutely must read more, you can click through to GayDemon for

Part 2

and

Part 3

But, remember, you might very well be offended and my suggestion is that you stop now. Click through to read more only at your own risk.

“Do Sweat It” is the theme of the brand new issue of RubberZone:

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This illustrated bondage story is from Herodotus — It’s called “Ramses Tale the Temple of Doom.” Click here.

And be sure to check Herodotus Guest Galleries — here — for even more illustrated stories.

If reading stories about MIND CONTROL, HYPNOSIS, BODY SWAP and HUMILIATION gets your dick hard, then you are a sick fucker indeed. You probably belong in a straitjacket. Or, you might want to seek professional help. But first, check out these stories.

This site used to be called “The Narcissus Cursed Men Collection” but now it is The Gay Spiral.

Click for The Gay Spiral

Herodotus has published a new work of sci-fi-action-adventure-fantasy-porn — HAWKMAN — a work that is filled with depraved sexual torments and lavishly illustrated superhero bondage.

Check out the cover art:

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You can see many more works by Jotto at the Telemachus site.

Jotto has a number of illustrated stories available here.

Many of Jotto’s works are authorized collaborations with Kalabro

You can learn even more about these artists at the Mitchmen blog. Click for Mitchmen’s entry about Jotto by clicking here and Kalabro by clicking here.

Also see the official Kalabro blog

By Joshua Ryan

Documents Relating to Convict 353308, Rossetti, Jason Scott

Inmate, Southern Regional Longterm Correctional Facility

Document 8

DATE:

051019

SENDER:

351699 Cleveland

Inmate, SRLCF

RECIPIENT:

Mrs. Heather Johnston

1112 Detroit Street

Milestone IN

STATUS:

Approved for Transmission

***CONVICT TRANSMISSION NOT TO EXCEED 400 WORDS***

Dear Sis,

I’m sorry you’re not able to come out to see me this year, but I understand. I think it’s great that you and Frank are buying that cabin at Pleasant Lake.

You asked whether me and my cellie are still getting along. You bet. It’s funny, you know, because he was a college kid who was also a Business Executive before he was put in stir, but as you probably predicted Ive been showing him the ropes. Actually, I was worried because I was celling alone and who knows what would happen when they put some other con in with me, but J is exactly the cellie I wanted. Do you know what I mean? :-) I think you do.

I forgot how much I already told you about all this.

Jase and I liked the book about how planets were discovered especially Neptune but it’s funny how they figure these things, isn’t it? I mean, Jase and I were laughing about how you’ve got this planet, going along, doing whatever it does, and suddenly, boom! you got people millions of miles away figuring out exactly where the planet has to spend its time for the rest of eternity. Busted! — right? But I like the fact that they knew it was there, before they really knew it was there if you understand. (Sort of like Jase and me I think.)

Please tell Josh and Susie hello from their uncle Jake. I hope they’re doing OK and Josh gets to go on that scouting thing.

Love,

Jacob

Convict # 351699

Document 9

August 21, 2019

From:

Joseph Madison

3529 E. North St.

St. James, CE

To:

353308 Rossetti

Inmate

Southern Regional Longterm Correctional Facility

12538 N. Meridian Road

Durant CE

Dear Jason,

I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get out to Durant last month. Richard and I — you remember Richard, the guy in my office? — we went out to Santa Fe New Mexico. I wish you’d been with us. You would’ve got a kick out of all the stuff we saw out there. Sorta expensive but you can’t just waste your vacation; you gotta travel when you get a chance. We bought a bunch of Indian pots and things, and Richard said that now we had a pot to piss in. Pretty funny, eh? I think I told you that Richard is living with me now.

Anyway, we had fun, and Richard says to send a big hello! to you. See ya soon.

Love,

Joseph

Document 10

October 21, 2019

From:

Joseph Madison

3529 E. North St.

St. James, CE

To:

353308 Rossetti

Inmate

Southern Regional Longterm Correctional Facility

12538 N. Meridian Road

Durant CE

Jasie,

I’m sorry I didn’t make it on Saturday, I really meant to. I just forgot, there was a big party at the Gay Center, for the new Counseling Addition. I think I told you that Richard is now a part-time Counselor! Its something that comes out of his own Recovery. Richard and I both think it’s very important that the GLBT (Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgendered) community starts becoming more aware of the Counseling Resources that are available to each one of them, personally. I know that I never understood my own Addictive Behavior until Richard introduced me to the Twenty-Phase Program and Dr. Ray’s recorded Messages. (I’m sure I told you about Dr. Ray!) So you see why I had to go to the Celebration rather than heading out there to see you.

Jason I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you are a very Closed-Off Personality (COP), there is a lot of stuff inside you that is keeping you from being all the good things you could be. As Dr. Ray says, “It’s not WHERE you are, it’s WHO you are.” So my wish for you is for you to stop thinking so much about Where you are — like, living in the Durant Unit, and your “cellmate,” and all those other things that are “going on with you” and “happening” to you (but does anything really just “happen to us”?) — which is all youre able to talk about whenever I’m able to come out to visit you — and start thinking more about Who you are and the wonderful Person that is buried deep inside and more about your Feminine side too, which is there whether you want to admit it or not you know.

I’m really, really looking forward to seeing you next time, when we can really discuss all this! Which will be December, you know, because November is full of Thanksgiving and everything.

Love and all the other good things in Life,

Joseph

Document 11

DATE:

110919

SENDER:

351699 Cleveland

Inmate, SRLCF

RECIPIENT:

Mrs. Heather Johnston

1112 Detroit Street

Milestone IN

STATUS:

Approved for Transmission

***CONVICT TRANSMISSION NOT TO EXCEED 400 WORDS***

Dear Sis,

Thanks for your letter! I’m fine. I’m glad that Josh is doing so well in school. What do you think, maybe he can go to college.

And thanks for the book. Like I told you, I think the Roman Empire is my favorite part of history. Also, Jason and I needed something to read and I think we’ll both be interested in all those slaves and masters. :-)

Jase and I are still fine with each other. The other night he said, “I hope they never bust us up.” I said, “Well, you’re getting out in 20 years, maybe.” He said, “That’s not long enough.” I said, “You still have a chance to screw up and come down with all of it.” He said, “I’ll think about that!” Then he said some other things, too. So you see we’re OK. You’d like Jason. He’s a great guy.

I hope you can come to visit next year, the way you said. It’s been a long time. But if you can’t, don’t worry about it.

I hope you have a good Thanksgiving. Turkey?

They don’t do anything special here at Durant, but at least we don’t have to work on holidays. Not enough guards. :-)   Jase and I always have things to do, though.

Yeah, I’m sorry they won’t let you send us any cookies. But we’ve got everything we need. Really!

Love,

Jacob

Convict #351699

Document 12

E-mail: Joseph Mansfield to Mindy Robbens, December 21, 2019, 5:11 p.m.

Subject: Jason

dear mindy

i hope you’re having a good time visiting your parents — ha ha ha. i just got back from seeing jason which as you can imagine was pretty weird, weirder than your parents even! :-)

seriously he’s changed so much i don’t think youd even recognize him its scary. when he walks in and sits down on the other side of that glass you’d think it was some marine corps guy, the way he walks and all.

then when he’s sitting across from you and you see those arms and shoulders — today they had the heat on in the visiting room and let me tell you it was hot, and jason had his sleeves roled way up practically to his shouldrs and all i can say is, he never looked like that when we were together, i would have been scared to sleep with a thing like that. just imagine, jason rossetti, he’s gigantic.

and today he was stranger than he ever was. he was talking about how he wanted to make a decision and it was the last decision that he’d ever have to make, so i was all scared and said don’t think that way, we’ll get you out eventually, and he looked at me like he couldn’t understand what i was even talking about. then he gave me a big smile and said, “you got it upside down, man.” so what did that mean?

doctor ray — of course jason never likes it when anybody mentions Mental Health (guess why???) but i try to mention it anyway — like I say, Dr. Ray talks about people like that, they take there own problems and they put them onto other people just like that, the way jason always did. it’s called Projection, and i didn’t know before how bad that could be or how Abused jason must have been when he was just a child but now i see it, he just denies how bad off he is and says that everybody else is wrong which is exactly what happens when people are Repressed and filled with Hatred for other people. but you know that.

and heres another thing, the way he talks has changed so much, everything i said he was laughing and grinning sarcasticly — not mean, just sarcastic, but one time he even said “thats just a load of shit man.” he never used to talk like that, that’s for sure!! actually i think its that “cellmate” hes got, that jake guy who is in for life as a common criminal and if you ask me has way too much influence on jason who used to be such a sweet guy as you know.

anyway, he was talking about this decision thing, whatever he meant by that, and he said, “this is an easy decision, i just have to do it the right way.” then i tried to get him to explain it and he wouldnt he just said, “thanks for worrying about me, joey,” and he wouldn’t say any more. so that was that. I think he was just being sarcastic again or something, cause what decisions does a convict have to make in the first place? i mean, all they have to do, they just have to LIVE there. it’s not like worrying about getting a better salry or something which i really wished i could now that Rich decided that he should quit that job and spend more time on Counseling

or maybe jason was just making conversation because what else do we have to talk about, cause he never seems to be interested in anything i have to say about my own life or anything and actually he always was really quiet which i thought was cute but now I’m not so sure. richard says i should drop him, cause he’s a Destructive Personality and refuses to get help but i can’t stand to do anything like that, at least not now. but it’s such a pain going out to that place on saturdays when i’ve got so many other things to do.

oh well. hey! gotta go. youll probably hear from me before christmas but in case you don’t, have a merry!

love and kisses

joey

Document 13

December 24, 2019

From:

Joseph Madison

3529 E. North St.

St. James, CE

To:

353308 Rossetti

Inmate

Southern Regional Longterm Correctional Facility

12538 N. Meridian Road

Durant CE

Dear Jason,

I’ve been thinking a lot about you since I saw you the last time. It just seems like we’ve reached the end of the road. You know how much work I’ve been doing the last year, trying to Recover from everything I’ve been through with my parents and you and all, but I don’t see any Recovery in your own future. From what i can see, youre perfectly happy to keep being who you are today! And you just laugh at everything and everybody who’s outside yourself.

Jason, I’m sorry its worked out this way, I just can’t stand to see what has happened to you, you are just like those other convicts as far as I can tell or that “cellmate” of yours. As far as I can see. So I’ve got to call it quits but if you ever decide to do some real psychological Work on yourself just let me know, cause you know you can always depend on me.

Jimmy and Mark and Mindy and especially Richard wanted me to make sure to say hello, and I know that they all want the Best for you too.

Love always,

Joseph

Document 14

DISCIPLINARY REPORT

Date:

122419

Convict 353308 Rossetti, Jason Scott

2300 hrs: disturbance, cell A292, convict 353308 attacking cellmate (351699), calling c.m. a “fuckin faggott,” also protesting Cell Assignment. Convict 353308 extracted from cell, whereupon convict struck Officer Nolan, wounding him in Private Parts.. Officer removed in ambulance, convict commited to Disciplinary Segregation (boxed).

Correctional Officer:

Gonzalez

Note: Officer Nolan returned to duty 122519, no permanent injury

Document 15

SENTENCING REPORT

Case Number:

053789183

Date:

123119

Presiding Judge:

Hon. Louis I. Meyer

Defendant:

Convict 353308 Rossetti, Jason Scott

Abovereferenced convict, having been previously sentenced as a Class A Felon to a term of 20 years to life, and having by signed declaration pleaded guilty in this instance to an offense against the Code Governing the Conduct of Inmates in Penal Institutions (as incorporated in Laws for the Protection of Penal Institutions), malicious assault on a correctional officer in the performance of his duty, an offense carrying an automatic penalty, is hereby sentenced to life imprisonment at hard labor without possibility of parole.

Document 16

DISCIPLINARY RECOMMENDATION

Date:

123119

Convict 353308 Rossetti

Convict now returning to population after sentence to LWOP for assault on Correctional Officer in consequence his objection to cell assignment (ref. Disc Rep 122419-353308 Rossetti). Under these circumstances, last thing corrections staff should authorize is convict using offense to get own way. Strongly recommend former cell assignment, A292-Bunk 2, be reconfirmed and placed in Permanent-Plus Status (Non-Reviewable).

Correctional Officer:

Gonzalez

[handwritten notation:] Gonzalez, what about attitude of cell partner? EFM

[handwritten notation:] He can handle it, sir. Gonzalez

Recommendation approved.

Edward F. Morton, Major

Document 17

REHOUSING REPORT

Date:

010120

Convict 353308 Rossetti

Referring Officer: Gonzalez

Convict returned to Cell Assignment A292, bunk 2 .

[stamp] PERMANENT-PLUS ASSIGNMENT (NON-REVIEWABLE)

Document 18

DATE:

011320

SENDER:

351699 Cleveland

Inmate, SRLCF

RECIPIENT

Mrs. Heather Johnston

1112 Detroit Street

Milestone IN

STATUS:

Approved for Transmission

***CONVICT TRANSMISSION NOT TO EXCEED 400 WORDS***

Dear Sis,

I haven’t written you for awhile. We had a strange thing happen. Jase got “out of control” on Christmas Eve and hit an officer. They sentenced him to life without parole, so we’re both real lifers now.

Jase was in the hole but they’ve brought him back — for good! He is now on Permanent Assignment with me, and the assignment is what they call “non-reviewable,” which really means for the rest of our natural lives. So its just like being married, only a lot more fun. :-) I’m sorry, I don’t mean to say anything bad about marriage.

Anyway, its pretty funny, isn’t it? It happened just the way that Jase and me were joking about.

Besides that, I hadn’t remembered what it was like to be celling alone. When Jase was in the hole, it seemed like I was just rattling around in this great big place. I guess I’m not very good by myself, am I? I used to be, but I’m not anymore.

Well, Jase is saying something, so I guess I better stop writing and deal with him. I’ll tell you more later.

Love,

Jacob

THE END

FOR NOW

Metal would like to thank the author, Joshua Ryan, for granting permission for this story to be posted here. This story is also available in the Cellblock Stories yahoo group. You can also see and read more from this author at his Prison Process Tumblr and Flickr pages.

Again, thanks to Joshua Ryan!

We will file this one under bondage stories on the net.  Houdini Connections — the website of Jim Stewart (of blessed memory) is still online. Many of Jim’s stories are about men who are into serious control games, including “Action Men For Hire” (which he originally titled “The Agency.”)

To go to “Action Men For Hire,” click directly below:

Hey fellow prisoners, the popular RubberZone site has just posted an update. Issue 30.2 features tons of fresh pictures, videos and a two-part story called “The Butcher.” Click the image below to check out RubberZone for yourself:

After you’ve joined the ACLU and HRC, you should also sign up for RubberZone. You’ll be glad you did! Click for RubberZone

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By BndMaster13

Let me begin this story with a simple statement, “I had no idea what I was getting myself into.” Yes, that may seem like a strange way to start but let me try and explain to you what I mean. I am (or perhaps was) a normal 19-year-old just graduating high school and trying to decide where to go with my life. I had already decided that I wanted a break before college. At least a year to get my head together. My best friend Rick and I had been in a b/d relationship for about 2 years. He was the Top as I loved to be tied up and dominated by him. Just the thought of being in bondage turned me on. The longer and tighter the better. I have a good body for bondage. I had been on the swim team for all of my high school years. This has given me a well toned but not overly muscular body. I stand 5’7″ and weigh 150lbs. Broad chest tapering down to a narrow waist. Rick tells me I have a beautiful physique. The only real body hair I have is a treasure trail that drops invitingly from my navel down to my crotch. As a swimmer I had always kept the hair on my legs and crotch trimmed so my speedos would look better. I must add here that I am amply endowed with a 8 inch cock that swells to a full 10 inches when I am turned on. My balls are large and hang low so believe me I really fill a speedo!

Rick is taller and heavier built than me. He has always been a weight lifter so he has an incredible, powerful body. He stands just over 6′ 1″ and when he looks down at me I just melt. He is a year older than me and has always been by best friend, big brother, and finally my lover and bondage Top.

Because he is a year older he graduated a year ahead of me. His parents had already decided he could wait a year before starting college. As my parents traveled a lot for work I basically moved in with him the last year. I finished high school and he worked part time. Investing his money in lots of bondage toys. We had some but by the end of that year we had everything. The rest of the time I was his bondage slave. Over that year he got better and better at making me into a real bondage slave. The more he gave me the more I wanted. As much as I would love to tell you all about that year I promised I would explain my opening line. As soon as I graduated high school Rick sat me down one night (perhaps sat down isn’t the right word. I was tied down actually) and presented me with his idea for the next year before I started college. He was starting college in a couple of months and for both of us the idea of his being away was just not acceptable. His parents were renting him an apartment off campus and he wanted me to come with him. I could have my year off and then start college. I was excited as I couldn’t stand the idea of being apart from him. However, he had a little catch to the arrangement. He pulled out what he explained to me was a Master/slave contract. He gagged me so I couldn’t interrupt him and then preceded to read it to me. As I listened I got excited but scared all at the same time. In it he proposed to make me a 24/7 bondage slave for the next 13 months. I would during that time always be in bondage, period. The only time I would have my hands free was when he was changing restraints. He would provide all my needs and care for me. But I would be his to use as he wanted.

Now I loved to be tied up, the longer the better. Our present record was 7 days over a holiday. During which time Rick had given me breaks. But the idea of being bound for 13 months actually scared me. Rick removed my gag and gave me a long sensual kiss. “I am going to leave you here to think about it. I will be back in awhile and I expect an answer.” With that he left. My mind raced a million miles an hour. I wanted this I realized. I was getting turned on just thinking about it. What better way to spend my year break than doing what I loved most with the man I loved most. I knew my answer long before Rick returned. He would probably be able to tell just by looking at my cock standing hard at attention. I was going to do it! At least it seemed like a great idea at the time, but I really had no idea what I was getting myself into.

That pretty well sets the stage. So let’s come forward to the present. It has been 7 months since we moved into the apartment. 7 long months since I signed the contract and completely surrendered my freedom. Rick made me strip and kneel at his feet that night while I signed my name on the slave’s signature line. He walked behind me and placed a leather collar around my neck and locked it on. He attached a strap to it that hung down my back. Placed locking leather cuffs on my wrists and pulled them behind me attaching them in the middle of my back to the strap. Since that moment my hands have not been free at anytime accept while he changes restraints. Rick made me stand at attention and he slowly ran his hands over my body. His strength and look of total possession made my cock bounce to attention. “Are you going to miss getting to touch this?” He asked as he stroked my erect cock. “I can’t even imagine 13 months without getting to touch my cock. But trust me your hands will not be able to come anywhere near yours. You really are mine slave. (That was the first time he had called me that) For 13 months your body belongs to me. We are going to have fun.” Rick actually scared me with the look he had on his face. It finally hit me what I had committed myself to. Was I crazy, 13 months?

I opened my mouth to speak but Rick slapped my face. “A slave only speaks when given permission to. I have not given you permission.” With that he grabbed a leather gag and strapped it on, locking it in place. He made me stand there while he read our contract to me again. Pointing out every word. He reminded me that I had surrendered myself body and soul to him. He looked into my eyes and told me how much he loved me. The love in his eyes told me he really meant it. But he said this wasn’t some game. He fully intended to make me live up to our contract. He also said that he expected me to make him proud because he knew I loved him. To cement our new relationship he bent me over the coffee and proceeded to paddle my ass. He had only done this twice before in our entire relationship. However, in the months to come it certainly wasn’t to be the last. When he finished he told me he was going to show me my bedroom. I had assumed we would be sleeping together as we always had. But Rick led me into the second bedroom where we had set up his exercise equipment and our desk. We had earlier put our bondage toys in the walk in closet. Unbeknownst to me Rick had made some other improvements to the closet which was to become my room unless he wanted me in bed with him. He had hung all our things on one wall or had placed them on the shelves. On the other two walls he had found the studs and placed rings into them at various heights. In one corner he had placed a dog dish with water in it. Next to it was a small pillow and a blanket. I looked at them realizing that they were mine. God, what had I gotten myself into?

“Let’s get you ready for bed,” he said and lead me into the bathroom. He held my cock while I pissed. He also informed me I had better shit if I needed to as I wouldn’t be loose for awhile. He helped me sit on the toilet. When I was finished he wiped my ass. Never before in our bondage play had he done this. He had always let me loose when I needed to shit. “slave,” he said, “believe me I don’t enjoy this but as your hands are staying put where they are I really don’t have a choice.” My god, to think that I was going to have to rely on someone for the most basic bodily function. The thought scared me half to death.

Rick led me back to what was to be my room. He made me kneel on the floor and told me he was going to rebind my arms and I was to not attempt in any way to move them. Simply leave them where they were until he reached for them. He got a new toy we had not tried out yet. It was a full arm leather binder. It had a collar for my neck and then it laid down the length of my back. It allowed my arms to be laced tightly inside. He released my arms from where they were behind my back. As ordered I did not move them. He put the binder on me then moved my arms inside. He left my wrists locked together with the leather cuffs. He then began to lace the binder up. He lowered me onto my stomach so he could get better leverage to insure he got it as tight as possible. As my shoulders and elbows slowly came more and more together I realized this binder was going to be a very intense experience. Rick laced and pulled until I felt he was going to pull my arms out of the sockets. He felt around and realized he had the binder to tight and let the lacing off just a bit. He tied it firmly in place and then had me raise my ass up in the air. He inserted a butt plug the pulled my back to my knees then my feet. He helped me step into a pair of leather chastity shorts. He locked them at the waist and each thigh. Rick patted my leather covered dick and said, “Poor baby not attention tonight. However, just because you aren’t getting any doesn’t mean I can’t.” He made me kneel and removed my gag. He made me open his pants with my teeth and suck him until he cam. “Good boy,” he said as I slid the gag back into my mouth. He laid me out flat on my stomach on the floor. Grabbed a leg spreader and strapped my feet into it. He then attached it to a ring in the wall so I couldn’t move around during the night. He put the pillow under my head and covered me with the blanket. “Good night slave, sleep tight,” was the last thing I heard him say before he closed the door and turned off the light. As I laid there in the dark, all alone, I couldn’t help but think, what had I gotten myself into.

That was only the first night of a very long 7 months. 7 months into our contract I still am wondering what I got myself into. For 7 months my hands have been locked behind my back except for 3 short times each week when Rick chains them to his exercise machine for my workout. He likes my hard body and makes sure it stays that way. Most of the exercises still allow him to keep my hands locked behind me. But for the weight lifts he locks my hands to the weight bar. 15 minutes, 3 times a week are the only time I have seen my hands in 7 months. Rick showers my every other day. He says I really don’t do anything to get dirty. He uses metal handcuffs for that. He gets in the shower with me and lovingly washes my body. At the same time he shaves me from the waist down. The first time in the shower he decided I would look better with no pubic hair. I have to admit being shaved makes my cock and balls look even bigger than they are.

My cock and balls? For 7 months I have not touched them. I can look down my body at them, but the thought of being able to actually touch them sends shivers through my body. Perhaps that is because Rick touches them as little as possible. He only touches them when he washes and shaves them in the shower. Or when he is putting some sort of bondage device on them. Or hanging weights on my balls. Or using the new whip he purchased on them. Or applying clothes pins to them. Or dropping hot wax on them. Other than that they might as well not even exist. If he would even play with them once in awhile. Stroke them and caress them like he used to. But he simply ignores my hard cock and full balls. He tells me, though, that he likes me horny as it turns him on. And god is he turned on almost all the time. Obviously having me as his bondage slave keeps him in a constant state of arousal. I know it does me. He however gets to cum when ever he pleases. Sometimes it is mastrabating himself while he watches me struggle in an exceptionally stringent bondage position. But usually it is either in my hot eager mouth our my hot eager ass. In his defense I must add that he does allow me to cum every 2 weeks. How he arrived at that number I don’t know but I do know when he does let me cum it is not satisfying. He simply jacks me off. We used to have great sex. Now he gets great sex and I get quickly jacked off and I know I have another long 2 weeks to wait all over again. Going from almost daily to once every 2 weeks. My god I just didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I will admit that my constant state of arousal has the effect Rick desired. All I think about is him. How to make him happy. Am I pleasing him enough. Without him I would have no purpose in life. But then again without him I couldn’t even wipe my own ass right now, could I. A simple thing like putting a glass to your lips, how we take that for granted. Try going 7 months lapping water out of bowl, with no use of your hands. But, Rick is happy. He loves me. I want nothing anymore but to make him happy. I love him.

Sorry, I am digressing here. Last month I begged Rick to be allowed to use the computer during the day while he is in class. I needed something, I told him, or I was going to go crazy. I wanted to write down my experiences. He finally agreed and started giving me access to the computer, if you can call it that. The first day before he left for class he walked me over to the desk. I assumed he would perhaps cuff my hands in front of me so I could use the key board. Was I wrong! He had moved the key board and monitor onto the floor. He made me lay down on the floor and proceeded to hog tie me. He then put a gag in my mouth to which he had attached a small plastic piece that looked like a stub of a pencil. Rick showed me that by lifting my head up and holding it in a very uncomfortable position I could tap the keys on the keyboard with the plastic piece on my gag. He made me try it and I swear it took me 5 minutes to write my first sentence. But it was at least a start. I could type for a few minutes and then lay my head down to relax the muscles. He gave me a word count I was accomplish that first day. I was also required to be letter perfect in my spelling. Needless to say I did not do it. Rick made sure I was punished. The second day despite my aching ass I still didn’t make the required word count. Did he punish me? Let me just say that it was a Friday and he punished me ALL weekend. Believe me, Monday I made my required word count. In fact I did so well Rick decided to make it harder. He told me he likes an excuse to punish me. As I write this he has me tied in such a way that to reach the keyboard and hit a letter I must pull my balls until they feel like they are going to pull off. But, Rick has also informed that as this my night to cum if I fail to complete this story I will wait another 2 weeks. What a dilemma. Do I want my balls to ache from being yanked at all day long, or ache from being so full of cum they want to explode? Also knowing Rick if I fail I will be punished and he is getting more and more creative in hurting my body. My god I still have 6 months to go before our contract is up. I have written so much already, but Rick said he will decide what will go to the internet as my story. For all I know he will send a 10th of it if even that. All the work and pain I have put in to write this and knowing him no one will read but a 10th of my story he has made me tell.

Dear god, I hear Rick. He is home early! I can’t possibly finish my quota. It is a 2 week school holiday. Dear god 2 weeks to punish me for not doing as he expects. God am I fucked. Please help me——

Metal would like to thank the author, BndMaster13, for sending this story for posting on the Metalbond site. You can read DOZENS MORE chapters of this by going to the Eckie site, or the Nifty Archive. You can contact the author directly via email at BndMaster13@yahoo.com.

Click directly below for Rubberzone:

Rubberzone features pictures, videos and stories!

Herodotus has just posted a new, illustrated gay bondage story — The Assassin and the God-King:

Fucking hot if you ask me! To see this and much more, click here.

Who remembers the Skin Marvin site? Does anyone know what happened to all those hot stories he had posted?

Metalbond reader Rick writes with this question:

Dear Metal,

First, I love your website and use it to jerk off most days.

I hope you might be able to help with me with a small request. I’m looking for a story that I believe was originally posted on skinmarvin.co.uk (now defunct). It was about a British cop who was sent to infiltrate a gang of skinheads and was converted to the life of a skinhead. The characters are in the story are Buster (the new skinhead name for the cop), Nisbo, a tattooist named Jimmy (and a few other characters). There was also a follow up story called Buster’s New Boy, about a high school student who gives up a college future to be a skinhead.

Have you heard of these of these and perhaps know where I could find a copy of these?

UPDATE: Several blog readers located this story, via the Wayback Machine! For Charlie’s Mob click HERE

For Buster’s New Boy click HERE

Skin Marvin story index HERE

Thanks to the Metalbond readers who responded!

By ty dehner

My dick grows a bit more, then i realize that those voices are coming closer. Are they hands on the ranch, and has Ty fooled me into thinking that he owns this place? For all i know, he is not returning. i stumble around a bit and feel the post scratch my naked ass. i figure i better be careful or i’ll end up with splinters. i can’t believe he left me hanging like this, the excitement is growing away quickly.

The loud laughing breaks my thought of my situation. They are getting closer. i now fear them finding me. What if they aren’t into bondage or gay. What if they hate what they find and decided to beat the shit out of me. What defense do i have. What if they are cowboys and what are they gonna do with this naked guy hanging from a post? i try not to turn my head as i hear their voices coming from behind me. Then it happens.

“What the fuck?!” i hear one of the voices yell out.

i close my eyes, hoping they will just move on. i listen as they are silent, only the sound of their horses as they near. i’m not sure, but i know there is more than one. i stand very still, not making a sound. Thinking that if they would just move on, i would do anything right now.

Through my closed eyes, i can tell they cross in front of me, blocking the sun. Fuck, i know they are staring at me and i notice my dick gets harder. The shade moves back and forth across my face, i don’t want to look.

“Shit, i don’t believe this.”

“Look at his pecker, he is liking this! Bet he’s a fucking cocksucker.”

This is not sounding good at all. My breathing increases as i get nervous as to their intentions. Then the sun is blocked permanently. i wait a few seconds to see if they move, they don’t. i swallow, and slowly open my eyes. Before me is a cowboy on his horse, rather close, his chapped leg inches from my face. With the back light of they sun, i can only make out the silhouette of him. i start to smell his horse and leather he wears. As my eyes adjust, i make out his worn boots with spurs. He wears a duster coast and vest and shirt under it. His black hat is a bit worn, but in good shape. His blond mustache breaks as he smiles down on me.

“Looks like Ty has got himself a new toy.” There is laughter from the others. i look around and see three other cowboys on their horses. They are all in their chaps, boots and coats. Dirty and dust from a long ride.

The cowboy nearest me pulls closer, lifting his boot to my chest and pushing me back. i swing, trying to catch my balance. The others laugh. “I bet he’s a great boot licker!” says the cowboy as i swing. He brings his boot to my face, the point under my chin, lifting it. “Is that right?” he asks as he stares me in the eye. His boot makes my gagged face nod yes. He takes his boot and rubs the sole across my face, over my gagged mouth. i take in the leathery dusty smell, how i would love to get my tongue on those boots. He moves it down my neck and across my tits, pushing on them with the point of the boot. i squirm with the pain he causes, my ass back against the pole. He moves his boot down my torso to my hard cock and balls, lifting my ball sack with his boot. i start to hump his boot, as he tries to squeeze it between my bound legs.

“Fuck he is a queer!” yells one of the cowboys.

“Hell, so are you!” answers the cowboy who’s boot i am riding.

He pulls out his boot and moves his horse around before me. He leaps down and comes to me, taking his gloved hand and stroking my face. He moves closer and closer, i can smell his sweat, from most likely days of no showers. He looks me in the eye, then draws closer, kissing my gagged mouth. Damn, i want him now, i wish i wasn’t fucking gagged! His leather gloved hands stroke and caress my bound body. i struggle in my bondage, feeling that leather against my clean-shaven skin. Up and down he moves, never taking his lips off my gag. i take in his wonder masculine smell, as he squeezes my tits. i moan in the gag and he takes his other hand bringing my lips deeper to his. He squeezes the other tits then twists them. i try to back away, but his strong grip keeps me in his face.

He moves down my body, touching my hard dick, stroking it over and over. i am so near shooting, it has been so long. Being handled by this cowboy, in site of the others. i can’t touch him, he only me. He stops and moves around to my ass, grabbing it tightly. All this time, he never stops kissing my face. i want to put my tongue in his mouth so deep. All he must do is release me, i will go with him, i will be his slave if he wants. i will be anyone’s slave if i am released!

He wraps one of his legs around my bound legs. i feel the leather from his dusty chaps, as he runs his spur up and down my skin. While not sharp, it down cause me to want to bend my knees, but when i do i pull on my wrists and can’t. At the same time, he brings his hand back to my hard dick. Dry and rough, he starts stroking it again, slowly. i moan deeply inside. He runs the spur faster and faster, while increasing the jacking of my dick. He lets loose of my face, bringing his other gloved had to my mouth and nose. He grips my nose, stopping my breathing. He jacks with a faster pace. i can’t breathe in the leathered smell of his glove, i struggle in my secure bondage that Ty left me in. The cowboy slams me against the post. My breathing deepens, i am building in my balls, i am going to finally get to shoot my load. i get light headed, not being able to take in a breath, squirming in these ropes. Closer it builds as i arch my back, he slams it back.

He releases his grip on my dick, i scream in my gag. He holds my nose a few seconds longer then also releases. i breath deep fast breathes, so near, but so far! i struggle to get out of this bondage. The cowboy, turns and climbs back on his horse. They all turn and head down the road that Ty drove the truck down. i can’t believe he did that!

i watch as they ride out of site, slowly, as the sun sets behind the hills.

The world around me turning orange, then brown, then gray. It is a long time, before they are totally out of site. As i feel my arms giving out on me, the pain is increasing as they are falling asleep.

How could Ty leave me this way! And when is he returning?! As i think about it, i catch a few lingers smells of the cowboy that brought me so close to the end. His strong hands had me, as if i was meant to be his. But i think back to Ty, and how great he looked. Now Ty is the one i would want to be doing this with.

The gray of the night turned to deep blue as the nearly full moon lit the area from above. It was starting to get cold and my dick was going to shrivel up into my ass if this went on longer. My hands were pretty much asleep at this point, my limbs certainly sore. i was looking up at the ropes that held my hands in place when a blast of light streaked across me. Then another, as i looked down the road. Soon i could make out the image of Ty’s truck. It came up the road and stopped near the house. The dust traveled past the truck and gathered around me. i coughed in the gag, as i watch Ty go into the house.

Now i was getting pissed! i am hurting here, and he doesn’t give a rat’s ass! After a while, he came out of the house and to me. “How you doing?”, is all that he said as he put a leather blindfold on me. Finally, he let my arms down, gave a huge moan into the gag.

“I know, i bet they are glad to be down. But you needed the training!”, he was serious in his tone. Of course, he doesn’t know about my time with the cowboy. No doubt he never will. He let the ropes around my knees and ankles fall free and helped me walk across the dirt to the house.

Once inside, he had me kneel before the fireplace, which i could feel the warmth coming towards me. He removed the blindfold, then the gag. He hugged me deeply, as i sank my face into his Wranglers, i reached up and hugged him back. He was right, i wanted what happened today. He knows what i want, and is giving it to me. He then hands me a beer, points to the bathroom and tells me i’m free to relax. i head to the toilet and piss, then return and sit at his feet. He sits in a big old leather chair, looking great in a pair of well worn Wranglers, brown boots, and denim shirt. We talk around things in general, some on what i was experiencing while in his bondage. It was getting later in the evening, and we were getting very comfortable. Even though i was totally naked at his feet, i didn’t feel at all shy about it. i was feeling warm, relaxed and glad to be in my position. i had been pissed out there on the post, but in the end, he knew when to let me go.

As i finished my beer, i set down the can. We talked a bit, then he brought his hand to my neck, and slowly pushed my lips to his boot. i opened my mouth and placed my lips on the leather. They were dusty and needed to be clean. His other boot was placed on my neck, as my tongue started to lick his boot. i reached and grabbed his boot at the heal and brought it closer, i was now able to show my thanks to Ty, by cleaning his boots. i tasted the leather, as my tongue deeply stroked across. His other boot guided me, across the foot, up the shaft and down again. i went into the crevasse between the leather and sole and even cleanly licked the underside. The dirt was a bit heavy where the sole meets the heal, but i cleaned it also. As his one boot shined, it was time to do the other. Moving around the foot, sucking on the pointed toe. Breathing up between the denim and leather, as he slowly helped move his Wrangler legs up. Sucking, licking, nearly eating this leather. Ty truly was letting me be who i am, freely. i know he was impressed with the job i was doing on his boots. i held them securely in my hands as i worked them, the entire time his other boot making sure my head was close and down on the boot.

When i was done, he brought me up to my knees and kissed me deeply for the first time. The warmth from the fireplace just made me warmer, as his tongue deeply entered my throat. i reached up and grabbed him, bringing him nearer. His legs wrapped around me, we tangled each other.

This night was heaven. Ty had me kneel before the fireplace, with my back to it. He pulled a pair of handcuffs from a drawer and secured my hands behind my back. My dick was dripping, as Ty took a bit on his fingers and had me clean them off. Then he brought out a pair of tit clamps and slowly put them on. i held my breath in the pain, but slowly got use to them. “i’m heading out to the bar tonight, i’m gonna change. You think about your situation right now while i’m doing so.” With that, Ty when down the hall.

i’m not sure what he was thinking or me for that fact. He is going out, is he going to leave me here alone, again. i would like to go out with him. But then i remember that he cut up most of my clothes, so that might be difficult. But still tonight here in front of the fireplace has be damn nice. i could tell he cares about me, or his kiss wouldn’t have been so passionate. And me taking care of his boots, how relaxed i felt in doing so.

Soon, Ty returned, and fuck if he didn’t look great! A nice new pair of blue Wranglers, pressed and laying in layers on the top of his great black shiny boots. A large silver buckle with leather belt separated his jeans from his white shirt. The shirt was well pressed, under his western tan and black jacket. Of course, his black hat was the perfect finish. i know my dick was growing as i looked at him. He walked straight to me, as he neared, he worked his dick out of his jeans and pointed it straight for my mouth.

Finally, i was going to get to suck him, taste him. i opened my mouth and in went his dick. Then he grabs my head in both hands, and i felt the trickle of his piss. i pulled back, but he held firm. “Better start swallowing!”, he reminded me of my helpless situation. If i didn’t swallow, i was going to drown. It was fast, warm and tasted like beer, but i was taking it down. My face smothered in his crotch, i would smell the denim, feeling the stiffness of it. Then he was done, and pulled out. He zipped up and sat in the chair. Without a word, he lifted one of his boots and i knew he wanted these cleaned also.

So, i worked my way over to him, feeling the chain on the clamps, as i bend forward to clean his boots. This was more difficult, since my hands were secured behind my back. i did my best, but lost my balance a few times. Ty helped in shoving my face into his boots. At times he would reach down and pull on the chain, i would stop licking, as the pain spread, but he’d push me harder on his boot. Soon, i was finished with his boots. He checked them out and had me work my way back in front of the fireplace.

“I’m going out tonight, what should i do with you?”

I told him i would enjoy going out with him, but that i didn’t have any clothes since he cut up my others. He went to another room and came back with some things. He removed the cuffs and let me start dressing. i asked to remove the tit clamps, which he came and took off roughly. He worked my cock and balls into bondage with some small rope. Then let me get dressed. Before i started i asked if i could piss. He left for a moment, then returned with a brown cowboy boot for me to piss in. While difficult as i’m a bit pee shy, i did so.

The Wranglers he had me put on were well worn, but in good shape. They were snug and sure showed my hard-bound dick and balls. It took a bit but i was able to adjust my balls, so they were comfortable. Next was a leather belt, followed by a brush popper shirt in bright blue and black. As i buttoned the shirt my tits were sensitive. i realized Ty had put some sandpaper inside the shirt to stroke my tits. The shirt was snug and left the paper up against my tits. i realized that i didn’t have any boots, for my others were still in the barn. Ty pointed to the boot i pissed in and told me to put in on. i noticed the boot had been lined in rubber so the piss hadn’t leaked out. i slid my naked foot into my piss, which was still warm, my dick grew in its bondage under my jeans. i pulled down the jeans over the boot top, and Ty handed me the other boot.

“You’ll fill his one when you need to piss later tonight.”, he instructed me as i slid the boot on. He handed me a blanket lined denim jacket and a bull rider baseball style cap. He nodded his approval and we headed out to the truck. Two cowboys out for a night at the bar.

To be continued …

Metal would like to thank the author, ty dehner, for this story — which originally appeared on the Ropedweb site many years ago, along with the original picture above. As a special treat to Metalbond readers, ty has written brand new chapters of this story, which will have their “world premiere” right here on MetalbondNYC.com in the coming days and weeks. Thanks ty!

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