The Jail Motel Story and Similar Establishments

“The first time my girlfriend and I saw the Jail Motel was when we took a different route back home from a week in North Carolina. When we saw the sign, we exited the interstate and checked it out; we had already spent the night on our trip but this might be something for the future. It appeared to be a fantasy-theme motel, with bars on the windows for that wing, plus other wings with Hollywood and Wild West signs. So the next time we took our trip, we stopped. Jayne said that she had made reservations and I should go in and register. But first, she told me to put my hands in front of me - - and she snapped a pair of handcuffs on my wrists! I had dropped a hint or two in the past about bondage but didn’t press the matter; I noticed a paint mark on the cuffs so I knew they were mine. I guess she found them in the garage. I walked in to register and when sheepishly put my wrists on the counter, the clerk remarked, ‘I see you have already come prepared.’ She then explained that each Friday night was Bondage Night. She gave me a receipt and told me the matron in Cell Block B had the key. We parked and went in the door. The matron was behind a counter and once she saw my handcuffs, told us that anyone wearing handcuffs also needed to wear legirons. ‘Get up on this step stool.’ I did and she put the legirons on me, and informed us that she was keeping the key, in case we had an idea of leaving with them. We went to our room, which was an actual cell, though inside the bars was a curtain we could pull for privacy. I say ‘could’ because a few of the guests decided to leave their room in ful view for taunting by those who passed by, especially a few who were chained to the bed and/or wearing few (if any) clothes. Since I was wearing the legirons for the night, I had to sleep in the shorts and T-shirt I had been wearing. (My girlfriend declined to remove the handcuffs, since they and the legirons were a ‘matched set.’) At 11:00, the matrons went down the hall and locked all the cell doors. There was a buffet breakfast down at the end of the hall, and it was interesting (and noisy!) to see all those guests walking around in their chains. I’d guess that most of the restrained ones were female, and not all of their masters were male. A few of them wore more than just handcuffs and legirons, including one with a full set of metal fetters on her wrists and ankles, with a chain down the front joining them to her collar. We made it a point to stop there on the way back, but this time we had purchased a pair of legirons so my girlfriend registered us - - because I couldn’t sign anything with my wrists behind my back. And that’s the way I spent the night, on my stomach. A few trips later were lots of fun stopping, and then one time we got no answer to the reservation line. The motel was closed when we checked it out. And a year later, it was gone. An empty lot. So we still did have the handcuffs and legirons, and in memory of the loss, shetold me to put them on and she put the keys in the trunk and I rode home all the way in chains. The thrill was gone, and we also decided that we were not that compatible so we broke up. And I have not found a new woman to take to the motel which no longer exists.