Hardcore S/M Bondage Prison

By Mister-X / Spartan

I’ve been interested in the small prison facility that was recently built to house guys that have wanted a prison experience without committing a crime. But I wasn’t interested in just being housed in a prison for hours each day of standing around. I wouldn’t be able to stand the boredom. If I were in a prison, I would want to be constantly challenged, punished and tortured. I realized that this new one would punish you or put you in bondage if you wanted that, but they would not do anything as severe as I wanted. I also wanted some rough sex, like I’d had when I was in the military, and this new prison wouldn’t do anything like that. They would do bondage, but not S/M.

All my life I’ve wanted challenges. I’ve only wanted to do the important things that no one else wanted to do. It’s what I wanted when I was in the military, and it’s probably why I’ve been so successful at my business career. I’ve always pushed myself. But successful as my business career has been, there’s been a void in my life. I missed the hard, physically challenging military life that I had. I knew I could get the bondage and S/M that I craved, and I tried that, but there was another problem that this didn’t address. I had been a prisoner of war with the painful aspects of that experience haunting me at night, as well as during the bondage S/M experiences I subsequently had, and I needed to try to get rid of those memories. I hoped that having a physically challenging bondage S/M experience in a prison would also get rid of the unpleasant POW memories. Nothing I’d tried so far had worked.

Then I saw it. It was an ad for a hardcore S/M bondage prison. This was one that was designed to constantly challenge the inmate. It guaranteed that the inmate would not be bored as a normal prison experience would provide. It sounded more like what I was looking for. I sent off for particulars.

What I got back surprised me, though it shouldn’t have. There would be a lot more guards than inmates, which resulted in a heavy cost for being there. I should have realized that to make sure that the inmates were not bored, there would have to be more than the normal number of guards. And they would make an effort to tailor the stay to the inmate’s wishes. The guards were part-time, being primarily members of the local area who had an interest in punishing guys, though for special circumstances they would bring guys in from other areas. That made sense. It also meant that the facility would have to be located in a fairly densely populated urban area. The location was not given.

Pictures were shown of inmates being secured in strict bondage, punished and tortured. The pictures got me excited as I envisioned being one of the inmates. I particularly noticed that in every picture the inmate had a raging hard-on. I wanted that rough treatment to get my rocks off. The pictures showed punishment and torture I could handle.

After reviewing the particulars of a stay at that facility, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. This seemed like just what I needed. I had been working hard at my job and was due a vacation. I had built up an extra bit of money aside from my regular savings, since my company needed me and worked me overtime. So when the thought of spending time at that facility had gotten to me after several days of constantly thinking about it, I decided to fill out the form and send it in with my check. They said that they needed about a month’s notice to arrange for the guards, and since I would need to give about that much notice at work for my vacation, I signed up for a stay.

The form asked what kind of treatment I wanted, and I said that I wanted rough treatment that was never boring, that more than anything else I hated being bored. The form asked for how long a stay, and since I had two weeks’ vacation time built up, and had enough money set aside to pay for that long a time at that facility plus a couple of more days, I decided to go for a 16-day stay, two weeks plus an extra weekend. The form asked for specific punishments or tortures I didn’t want, and I listed the ones that I had found out as a POW that I couldn’t tolerate for long. The form asked if I would allow myself to be periodically fucked when bound, and since that was something my buddies would periodically do to me when I was in the military, I gave my approval for those, as long as it was by HIV-negative guys. The form also required me to sign where it said that I was absolving them of any liability for injuries that might result, and I signed that.

When I got a response back, it was to set up an appointment with a doctor of their choice to make sure I was in good enough physical condition to withstand two weeks of rough treatment. I had been keeping my body up, and didn’t think this would be a problem. I worked in an appointment with my schedule.

That doctor’s examination proved to be more than I had expected. I’d been through boot camp in the Marines, but what that doctor put me through reminded me of the toughest sessions I had there. In addition to the regular exam, he would test my heart rate at rest, tested again after lifting a couple of thousand pounds of weight over a half hour, again after running about five miles, again after having my breath cut off for a minute until I was about to pass out, and several more times after various other physical challenges, all coming one right after the other. By the end of that part of the examination I was exhausted. But I passed.

News was soon given me that I would be picked up at my home. They told me to empty out my system with a series of enemas the night before.

As time got closer to the date of my departure, I was getting more and more excited. It was difficult for me to concentrate on my work, but I finally was able to get things finished to the point where I could take two weeks away. My company hated to see me gone, but they knew that I had earned it. They assumed that I was going for a nice relaxing vacation. That night I emptied out with the enemas. With the anticipation, I had trouble dropping off to sleep.

I was awakened with a loud hammering on my door. I sleep in the nude. I was half asleep when I talked through the door. I asked who it was, and was told that it was representatives of the facility to pick me up. As I opened the door to let them in, I turned to walk back in, starting to explain that I would have to get dressed. But two burly guys dressed all in leather came bursting in and forced me down on the floor on my stomach. They quickly cuffed my hands behind my back. It happened so fast, occurring at about 3:00 in the morning, that I was still half asleep and couldn’t put up any resistance in time.

The pair quickly ratcheted cuffs on my ankles, pulled back my chest to strap and lock a leather penis gag on my mouth when I started to say something, and locked a big metal collar tightly around my neck. There was a short chain already attached to the back of the collar, which they locked to my handcuffs after pulling my hands up as close to my collar as they could get them. It took them less than a minute to fully secure me. I was impressed. One of them checked my bathroom. He returned and said, “The fucker did the enemas as instructed.” They picked me up, one by my cuffed wrists and the other by my cuffed ankles, and carried me out the front door to their van. They had left the back of it open, and they threw me into the back. They closed the van door, closed and locked my front door, got into the van, and drove off. I was totally naked, except for their restraints.

That was quite a start to my vacation. My cock had gotten erect from the rough treatment. I was already starting to enjoy it. After years of going to my desk job dressed in a suit, everyone treating me respectfully, this rough treatment was a welcome change. I’d been missing my military life, missing the bondage and torture training I’d gotten to prepare me for those dangerous assignments in case I should be captured, missing the roughhousing my buddies periodically got into with me, fucking me after I was tied up, keeping me tied up for their use sometimes for days, taking turns having their way with me, so I wasn’t bored, knowing that I liked to be treated that way and they liked to do it. But my thoughts during the ride of going to that prison inevitably went back to memories of when I was captured and made a prisoner and of the tortures I had been put through then, those painful memories that came back to me periodically at night that I wanted to get rid of.

I wondered how long a drive it would be and whether I would be flown, driven or taken on a train. I was surprised to find that it was a relatively short drive. Apparently the facility was located near where I lived. After the van was driven inside a building, garage door opened and closed, I next heard a massive steel door being unlocked and opened. I was picked up, again by my cuffed wrists and ankles, and was carried inside the door before being dropped onto the floor so one of them could close and lock the door behind them.

While he was doing this the other one went on ahead and unlocked and opened another steel door. I tried looking up and saw that I was in a room that was enclosed in metal walls with a corridor ahead that appeared to have prison cells on the side. The two returned and picked me up again by the cuffs and carried me down the corridor. I was taken inside one of the cells and dropped onto the floor. One of the pair said, “Get some rest, fucker. You’re going to need it.” With that the pair left my cell and went to a desk in the front room, probably to fill out some paper work. I heard one of them make a phone call and report that I’d been picked up and was resting comfortably in my cell. Then the door to the cells was closed and locked.

I was inside the prison facility, cuffed and collared in metal restraints and gagged. This is to be my home for 16 days, available to be punished and tortured. It was what I thought I wanted. It was what I had decided that I needed. My cock was still erect and leaking pre-cum. I hoped I wouldn’t be left alone here for long. I didn’t want to be bored.

I heard some stirring in the cell next to me. The light was on, and though I wasn’t blindfolded, I had to try to turn some to see what I could, since I had been left facing the other direction. When I finally maneuvered myself to the point that I could see, I was surprised at the sight. There was another guy, totally naked like I was, who was spread eagled in the air, chains attached from the ceiling to each ankle, each wrist, and to his metal collar. He was gagged, as I was, and his cock was sticking out erect. His face was quite red, and his eyes were wide open with a kind of resignation. I had known that feeling before. My thoughts again went back to when I was a prisoner being tortured. I had to direct my thoughts to the tortures I could deal with, like those my neighbor was enduring, and forget those I couldn’t tolerate.

I started noticing various metal attachments in his cell. That caused me to start to look around at mine. I saw the same metal attachments on the floor. I looked up and saw various chains hanging down from the ceiling. I followed the other ends of them and saw that they were attached to hoists. I could see that the prison organizers had prepared well for their inmates.

My eyes went back to the other guy and I noticed some red welts on his body. Since he was parallel to the floor I couldn’t see his body well, but also since I was on the floor and he was in the air I could see some. I figured that they regularly beat each of us each day. That also brought back memories. I could deal with the beatings.

Just then someone opened the door to the corridor and walked up to my cell. He unlocked the door and walked in. He pushed a button and one of the hoists lowered. When it was low enough, he locked it to the back of my collar. I was facing him. He then pushed a button and the hoist started rising, causing my head and chest to rise as well. The effect of this was to start to get me to choke, and I started coughing. The guy got a smile on his face when he heard this, but kept on raising me up. When I was pulled up far enough to be upright resting on my knees, he pushed the button and the hoist stopped.

“Mr. Smith, as you chose to call yourself, though we know your real name, welcome to our little prison. I hope you’re prepared to be severely punished and tortured. It always amazes me how many guys want that. But we are more than happy to accommodate them. For anyone who is here for at least two weeks, we tailor their stay to the individual. I’ve done some checking into your background and found that you had been taken prisoner and were severely tortured and punished when you were in the military. One person in particular was your tormentor. I think you must remember Ali. Now that our countries are no longer fighting each other, we took the liberty of searching for him, and we told him you were spending 16 days here to be punished and tortured. He remembers you well, and he wanted to meet you again to continue his ‘treatments,’ as he termed them. So we paid his airfare to come here. He will be administering punishment and torture to you during your stay here.”

When the guy mentioned Ali, he got my immediate attention. As he spoke my eyes kept getting bigger. When he said Ali would be the one administering punishment and torture to me, I let out an involuntary gasp and started shaking. I thought, ‘Not Ali. Anybody but Ali. I can’t bear the thought of facing Ali. If that guy is going to be having at me again I made a mistake coming here.’ I couldn’t stop shaking from the thought. Ali had found all my physical and mental buttons and had started pushing them hard. He used that to start to peel back the layers of my psyche. He had been on the verge of destroying me. If Ali continued where he left off, he would finish destroying me. I came here hoping to bury the memories of what Ali had done.

The guy who was talking to me smiled when he saw my reaction. He obviously didn’t understand. “His plane hasn’t landed yet, but after it does later this morning he will be brought here. He can’t wait to continue his torturing of you, which was interrupted those years ago. I’ll just leave you here to think about your upcoming stay. Breakfast will be served in a couple of hours. We will remove your gag for you to eat meals, but you are prohibited from speaking when it is out, or you will be punished and will have to go without food. We realize that the purpose of your stay here is to be punished, but our punishment for your offenses consists of leaving you alone for 24 hours, something that you said you hated more than anything else. I assume you would prefer not to speak than to experience that. And if you’re wondering about the tortures and punishments you listed as not desiring, we ask that question to find out which ones we concentrate on giving you, since you are here to be punished and tortured.” He let that sink in, and with a smile said, “Enjoy your stay.”

After the guy left I started doing a lot of remembering. I was starting to have real fear. I didn’t know what would happen when Ali started in on me again. I had matured some, but I still had the same physical and emotional buttons that Ali knew about. He was the only person who knew about them. As sadistic as that bastard is, I will probably be an emotional basket case by this evening. What an unwelcome surprise to have to face. And there’s nothing I can do to avoid it.

Breakfast arrived. It was pretty small and bland. I didn’t say anything when my gag was out while I was being fed. I noticed the guy in the cell next to me didn’t either. My gag was put back in afterward. The only effect I noticed after the meal was over was that my cock seemed to now be more erect. I figured that was from my fear of what was coming.

Finally after a couple of hours the dreaded confrontation came. It was indeed the Ali I had come to know and fear. He had grown a little older, but was otherwise the same.

“Ah, Mr., uh, Smith, I believe is the name you want to use here, it is good to see you again. I see that you are back to being restrained as before. I understand you paid to voluntarily come here to be tortured. You obviously like this. I will be happy to accommodate you in that, just as I did before, although you didn’t volunteer to have it done then. And I see that you still have that very small penis. But it looks like you’ve expanded your neck some from the thin size you had when I saw you last. But of course, that is something that can be expanded with exercise. And you are no longer in the military, challenging yourself to do manly things to make up for your unmanly physique. You must have matured enough to outgrow those childish desires.”

Same old Ali. Trying to get into my head, and succeeding. I couldn’t help but get red in the face from anger at the things he was saying, since I was extremely sensitive about those items he mentioned. To try to calm down, I had to tell myself that my penis wasn’t that small, nor was my neck size, that he was just saying that to get me angry. And I was in the military because I was a man doing a man’s job, doing things no other man wanted to do because of their danger. My smaller size had nothing to do with it. He could see my angry defensive reaction, which encouraged him to keep it up.

The guy who told me that Ali was coming unlocked and opened the cell door, and Ali entered. He took in an extra-large chastity device and started to put my penis in it. “Oh, my. It looks like your penis is so small that this chastity device wouldn’t restrict it at all. It must have shrunk since I last saw you. But I don’t think they make them in such a small size. I guess we won’t be able to put yours in chastity.” My attempts to calm myself weren’t working. I was getting madder by the minute. I’d always been very, very sensitive about the smaller-than-normal size of my cock.

“How have the hemorrhoids been? Will it cause them to break if I put a butt plug up your ass like happened when I tried that before? At least we can get a plug that is slim enough to fit into your tiny ass, but I don’t want to cause you major health problems.”

‘Like hell you don’t’, I thought. Just by talking you’re causing me major health problems, mental health problems, that is.

“But enough of this chit-chat. You came here to be tortured. I’d better get started doing that. You mentioned on your form that you don’t want your balls to get paddled. I believe when I did that it made you sick and you threw up. I’ll have to make sure that I do that after every meal each day.”

As I gritted my teeth into the leather penis in my mouth I was thinking ‘yes, I hate that, but at least remove my gag if you’re going to do that.’ But Ali continued. “I think it would be a little extra torture if we leave your gag in place when you throw up,” he said. “That will be fun to watch.”

Soon I had my knees spread apart, the hoist lowered so that I was still resting on them, with another hoist attached to my cuffed ankles, which were brought up into the air, leaving my balls exposed. Ali brought out a small leather paddle with a long handle, which he proceeded to use to start hitting my balls. He didn’t start out too hard at first, but soon he was hitting them pretty hard. It didn’t take long for the inevitable to happen. I started throwing up my breakfast into my gag, together with my stomach acids. I started choking when this was happening. Ali just watched with that sadistic smile on his face. I didn’t eat much breakfast, so there wasn’t much food, and since I didn’t completely choke or pass out, he didn’t remove my gag. But I now had a foul, acidic taste burning my mouth and throat as well as partially digested bits of food in my mouth and throat.

He next started working his fingers up my ass. He would feel around as he was doing so. He finally said, “I don’t think that would be a good idea. You’ve got some bad hemorrhoids there. We’ll just have to put the electricity elsewhere.”

I knew what that meant. I had been experimenting at home with electricity, knowing how badly I was psychologically damaged by it when Ali administered it, but I could never force myself to get it anywhere near as strong as he had done. It was why I had listed it on the form as something not to be done. He soon had tit clamps on me, something I didn’t mind, though with wires attached, wires encircling my erect penis, and wires attached to my metal cuffs and collar. He started up the shocks at a strong level, stronger than I was ever able to tolerate at home.

“I’ll start with periodic shocks, and I’ll be back to up the intensity and frequency later to make it punishing after you’ve had a chance to enjoy this relatively mild level. I just got here, and need to get settled.” Having said that, Ali left, the cell door was locked, and I was in terrible pain. It was barely tolerable. I couldn’t imagine what stronger electricity would be like.

In a couple of hours the meal guy was back with lunch. After my gag was removed, I was able to start to spit out some of the vomit that had accumulated before the guy started to feed me. But when one of those strong shocks hit I let out a yell. Immediately the gag went back in and the food was taken away. The guy who had told me about Ali came back and told me that I would have the drapes pulled down in my cell and would be kept in isolation for 24 hours. The electricity was kept on.

When the 24 hours were up, Ali was back again. I was becoming that basket case that I had expected to become, starting to have a nervous breakdown. I had 24 hours to constantly think about what Ali was going to do, based on what he had done to me in the past, as well as those periodic shocks. It all took its toll on me. I was surprised that it had taken such a short amount of time to do that. It was only my second day of vacation. I finally became aware that Ali had said, “It’s time to up the intensity level.”

I started shaking my head vigorously back and forth. Ali continued, “Ah, but you know, Mr. Smith, that you have come here to be tortured, something that I am an expert at doing. I know you hate this intensely, which is why I’m doing it.”

I continued shaking my head back and forth. Ali finally said, “Did you want to say something to me, Mr. Smith?”

I vigorously nodded my head up and down. Ali got the key to my gag, unlocked it and removed it. “Yes, Mr. Smith?”

During the past few hours I had planned in my mind what I wanted to say when I could think between the shocks, and I had to focus on slowly saying it. “Ali, you know me well. You know which buttons to push. I am aagghh! fast becoming that whipped boy that you almost made me before. I came here to try to get over the memories of what you had done to me before, not expecting aagghh! them to bring you in to continue destroying me, to get me to focus on those memories. Is there anything I can do now, while I am still mentally able to do something, to help you so you aagghh! don’t go that extra step and destroy me?”

Ali replied, stopping when I would yell when a shock hit, before continuing. “Ah, Mr. Smith, you were always so respectful of my capabilities. Yes, I knew that I was about to destroy you, but I wasn’t able to finish the job. I don’t like to leave a job unfinished. I came here to either finish it, or use my position here to get something that I want. I realize that those shocks are causing you periodic pain, so just go ahead and yell when they hit. I appreciate what you are saying. I do have my needs, and know that you are in a position to help me get them. Now that our countries are no longer enemies, I would like to live here in this country. You have a very nice house, which I have moved into while in this city. If you would allow me to stay in that house permanently with you, with you paying our expenses, and you helping me with immigration, I will be willing to stop trying to destroy you. Have we a deal?”

It took me a minute to focus and digest what he had said and think of the implications, after calming down from the latest shock. I finally said, “So you would always be at my house when aagghh! I am not at work?”

“Yes.”

“And you would be wanting to torture me when I am home from work? And get your rocks off in me as well?”

“But of course.”

“You will need to avoid those tortures that you know I can’t handle. Ever since I met you and experienced your special talents, I’ve wanted to be punished and tortured by you, aagghh! PROVIDING you stay away from those certain unacceptable ones. If this is agreeable to you, then we have a deal.”

“How can I say no to such an agreement? I will need you to stay sane in order for me to be able to live here, and I will have to avoid those tortures to keep you sane, so avoiding those will be of benefit to me. But if you ever decide to back out of your end of the deal, you know what I will do to you.”

I started shaking again when I thought about what that would be. I was still close to losing it. I finally got hold of myself and said, “Then you’ll, aagghh! probably need to start fixing up my home to prepare for my return from vacation, which is still two weeks away. Bring my checkbook the next time you come here, and I’ll write a check for enough for you to start getting, aagghh! prepared. But first turn off this damn electricity!”

Ali did as I ordered. After he turned off the electricity he started doing more traditional tortures and punishments that he knew I could deal with. I was taken to another room to be beaten. There was another guard there to do that, and he would painfully fuck my ass after he’d gotten it red. When I was brought back I was raised into the air as my neighboring cellmate was positioned. These I could deal with. These were the rough punishments and tortures that physically challenged my body, ones I missed and enjoyed. At least my cock was always erect while I was at that facility. But I hadn’t gotten any relief from it yet.

Life in that facility continued, being brutally punished and periodically tortured and fucked, but always something I could deal with, something that physically challenged me. My mental psyche slowly returned from the brink. Nothing more was said about the size of my cock, nothing was tried to be shoved up my butt, my balls weren’t whacked after I’d eaten, and no electricity was turned on. Ali would be by regularly, since he still enjoyed torturing and punishing me, but he kept to his part of the bargain. I had started wondering how he was fixing up my house for my return, but since I was always gagged and required to keep quiet when it was out, I couldn’t ask him and he didn’t volunteer any information.

Finally the 16 days were up, and I was released. I never was able to get my rocks off, despite my cock always being erect. I was taken back to my home very early in the morning in a similar way to how I was taken away, cuffed, collared and gagged. When the two leather-clad guys dumped me inside my house, they gave the keys to my locks to Ali, who was waiting there for me. After they had left, he said with that ever-present smile, “Welcome back to your home, Mr. Smith.” He pocketed the keys and left me lying on the floor, cuffed, collared and gagged. He went into my bedroom, having been awakened for my delivery, and soon the light was turned off. I obviously was not to be let out of my restraints until later that morning. Ali wanted me to begin realizing my lower status at my own house.

I was so exhausted I just fell asleep where I was on the floor. A couple of hours later Ali woke me up, unlocked my gag, and started feeding me. After he’d finished he said, “I didn’t know whether you wanted Viagra added to your food like they did at that facility to make sure your cock was always erect, so I chose to do so for the first one and ask you afterward.

“No, I don’t want that. Now I’m going to have difficulty getting my cock suppressed enough to get and keep my pants on.”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem. I was able to find a, uh, suitably sized chastity device to fit on your cock. I’ll get a cube of ice to get it down far enough to put the chastity on.” He soon returned with a whole tray of ice cubes. It took a couple of cubes to briefly counteract the Viagra to quickly be able to get my cock in chastity. My cock kept trying its best to get erect, but couldn’t. The Viagra was doing its job, but so was the chastity device.

“Ali, I have to get cleaned up and dressed to go to work. You’ll have to let me out of these restraints so I can do that.”

“I understand. But I thought I’d first show you the changes that will now be a part of your new life.”

He removed my ankle cuffs, but kept the handcuffs on, as well as the collar and the chain connecting my hands painfully up to connect to my collar. My head was forced back some. He helped me up onto my feet and took me to my bedroom and showed me my bed, which he now was occupying. Then he showed me a bare wooden bench that had many leather straps attached to the sides, as well as a metal handcuff on each side and a metal collar attached to the top end. “That is your bed now.” I noticed that there was a rope noose at the head end that was first pulled up to go around a bar, then down to go under the bench to connect to the foot end. As he noticed me looking he said, “You will now always sleep with that noose pulled up tightly around your neck above that high metal collar, then stretched taut under the bench to tie to your ankles.”

“That will leave a mark around my neck, which will show when I’m at work.”

“Not with the new shirts I bought you. They have a much higher collar and are hard and tight. I had to get them custom-made to be skin-tight around your neck going up to your chin. With the added tie pin underneath the tie, they will look like the latest style.”

Ali took me to the spare room. He had set it up with lots of torture devices. “This will be your home from Friday night until you have to leave for work. You like to be tortured, so I have gotten a nice supply of devices to accommodate your desires.”

As I was looking at those, my cock was trying its best to try to get erect, but was not able to. He certainly had gotten a nice supply of torture devices. He finally held up a belt and said, “This will always be on you to keep your chastity pushed down under your pants so it won’t be noticeable, and these little tit clamps with the extra short chain between will be hidden under your shirt and vest of your new three piece suits, so they won’t show. But it’s now time for me to let you out of your restraints to get cleaned up to go to work. I’ll set out the clothes you will be wearing. Get going or you will be late.”

My head was in a whirl. My whole life had suddenly changed. I was now living with my most feared person, a guy who was now controlling my life. All decisions outside of work were being made by him. I had no time to think about it, as I had to hurry to get to work. And this all started because of a desire I had to relive the hard life I had when I was in the military, as well as to try to repress the pain and torture he had inflicted on me that brought back painful memories. There wasn’t anything I could do about it now, except to continue living this physically challenging life of mine at home as I’d agreed to do. But I wondered whether being tortured constantly by this new Ali, who would only do tortures I could handle, would achieve my desire to repress the memories of the ones I couldn’t handle. It was certainly possible.

Ali had my car keys and drove me to work, cuffed hand and foot plus gagged while dressed in my suit and tie, the hard, tight shirt keeping me uncomfortable, reminding me of my new home life. When we neared my workplace, Ali stopped and let me out of the restraints. When I got into work, after finally checking in the bathroom mirror to make sure none of the marks on my body showed, I changed roles. I was able to pick up work smoothly from where I’d left off. I was back to being the person who told others what to do, someone who made the decisions for others. At least I was in control of my life at work, and with the clothes Ali had gotten for me to now wear, as opposed to the casual clothes I used to wear, I now looked the part, getting several compliments on my new appearance. It was a day filled with meetings, starting several new projects, and when quitting time came I was late getting out because of the last meeting I had with some of my staff to give them directions on one of the new projects. It felt good to get back to this part of my life.

I picked up my briefcase and left, seeing Ali in my car to pick me up. One of my staff walked out with me, and we continued discussing what I needed him to do before we finally separated and I walked to the car. There, setting on the passenger seat for me when I opened the door, were handcuffs, ankle cuffs, a metal collar with a chain locking it to the handcuffs, a big leather penis gag and two padlocks. I quickly closed the door and looked over to see where my staff guy was, and saw him starting to drive away. I started wondering what my staff guy’s reaction would have been on seeing these, should he have thought of something else and come over to talk to me when I opened the car door.

When I got in after picking the restraints up off the seat, Ali drove away from work to find a secluded spot, and waited for me to put the restraints on myself. I knew immediately on seeing them what he wanted me to do. He didn’t have to say anything. The car was where I would transition from work dom to home sub. After I’d put everything else on, Ali had to help me get my hands high enough behind my back to fit into the cuffs while my head was bent back. The metal collar fit snugly over my shirt collar under the tie. When I had put the restraints on, Ali started driving me home. I couldn’t see much with my wrists forcing my head back so far that it was looking up at the roof of the car. He had attached the cuffs much higher up my back than the two burly guys had done. My cock was trying to get hard, but couldn’t. With my shorter height I was down in the seat out of view of other motorists.

I now had both the hard life I had in the military and the soft life I had at work. But I realized from the way Ali greeted me that this also brought a new challenge, namely, how to balance these two totally separate lives I was now leading, keeping them totally separate, keeping one from interfering with the other. There would be, after all, company functions after work, dinners with my staff. My mind was now busy with figuring the details of this latest challenge, how to start leading my two separate lives and how to have Ali conform. I was going to have to explain to Ali what was acceptable when he picked me up at work so he could continue having me as his meal ticket.

I also had the challenges from the new projects at work. And I knew that Ali would be challenging me at home with acceptable tortures. I figured that my life had now improved greatly with these new challenges, and I was in an upbeat mood. Bad as that prison experience started out, it had turned out to be just what I needed. I’d already forgotten those painful memories of Ali’s tortures when I was a prisoner, now focusing all the time on the new ones he was doing to me.

My hands were brought up too high. I needed to lower them down to get some relief. I started choking when I did that. I was wheezing. I saw Ali smiling when he heard that. He finally spoke. “I’ll be leaving you like that every night until bed time. I enjoy hearing someone strangling.”

It was something I could deal with. My cock started to get erect, and then it struck me. There was one problem with all this. My cock still hadn’t gotten its relief, and was now locked in chastity.

 

Metal would like to thank Mister-X / Spartan for this story.

 

 

 

5 thoughts on “Hardcore S/M Bondage Prison”

  1. I do hope to see a second part to this story, maybe about the tortures the speaker must endure while at home, besides the collar. Great Story!

  2. Having a torturer come home with you on a permanent basis seems to be a theme that you repeat. It must be a genuine desire.
    This story was cock stirring.

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