Monthly Archives: September 2022

Story

Forlorn Hope – Part 05: Things Fall Apart

Leave a comment

By DR754

Today is Monday, August 8, 1967.

I’m scribbling this entry on toilet paper in a cold, dark holding cell in the Franklin County Jail in Hampton, Iowa. You see, it turns out the “town museum with the bars on the windows” I was wondering about, was actually the county jail. Built in 1880, or so they told me.

And I, a fugitive from justice, was dumb enough to park in the jail driveway. Fucking brilliant.

You see, shortly after drifting off to sleep, I was rudely awakened by a burly man in a “Correctional Officer” ballcap, rapping his nightstick on my car window. I tried to shake him off, but the message was clear – open up or else.

Uh oh. This is a problem. And where the fuck did a correctional officer come from?

Continue reading Forlorn Hope – Part 05: Things Fall Apart →

Story

Forlorn Hope – Part 04: The Road Ends Here

1 Comment

By DR754

male bondage stories Hampton JailToday is Monday, August 8, 1967.

So far, so good. In fact, I had a brainstorm about halfway through South Dakota – what if I changed into my uniform? It’d break the description they had of me from court, and even though I wasn’t law enforcement, what cop is even going to pull over, much less question, a man in a federal ranger outfit?

Working around the handcuffs made things just a bit awkward, but I felt comfortable, almost confident again wearing my greens. I made it all the way into Minnesota without spotting a single trooper, then turned south down Highway 65 at Albert Lea. Corn, corn, corn, and more corn – but I didn’t care about corn, I cared about cops, and there were none to see.

As I entered the one-horse burg of Sheffield about midnight, I glanced at the gas gauge – damned near E. A couple lights were still on at a Casey’s gas station, but how to pay for it? My wallet had been tapped out back around Sioux Falls.

Continue reading Forlorn Hope – Part 04: The Road Ends Here →

Daily Thread

Men in suits tied up: Power suit power play

Leave a comment

gay_bondage_men_at_play_01

At Men At Play, Hector de Silva finds himself completely at the mercy of another man — Emir Boscatto. Hector is bound to a chair and on the receiving end of basically anything Emir wants to do to him. Emir decides to play a little game of control on Hector by taking his throbbing cock and playing with it, slowly at first but gradually picking up rhythm and taking him almost to the point of cumming but stopping just in time to see Hector gasp, and his eyes beg him to take him to full orgasm. Emir continues this delicious game of edging a few more times, reveling in the power he exerts over his victim, and as much as Emir would like to milk him fully and drink his load, his power-game has only just begun!

gay_bondage_men_at_play_02 gay_bondage_men_at_play_03 gay_bondage_men_at_play_05

Title of this shoot: ‘Jungle: The Lions Den’

Starring Hector De Silva and Emir Boscatto

Click for Men At Play

male bondage

gay_bondage_men_at_play_vert

Story

Forlorn Hope – Part 03: Men Plan, Gods Laugh

1 Comment

By DR754

Today is Sunday, August 7, 1967.

Blasting through empty stretches of Wyoming just after daybreak, I plotted my next move. This whole “escaped convict” thing is a little more complicated than I thought. It’s not like I regret my decision to run, but I can’t just keep running forever – my only hope is to find somewhere to run to.

Deep in my soul, a shred of conscience took the opportunity to be heard.

Come on now, you’re smarter than all this. Do you really think they won’t catch up with you? You could just pull into the nearest sheriff’s office and give yourself up, you know. End this madness now. You might still have a chance to cop a plea. Tell them you were scared, say you just snapped and went insane at the thought of going to prison. They can’t hang you for that, can they?

I briefly contemplated the thought. But my mind kept returning to what I knew awaited me at the Idaho State Penitentiary. Even if I escaped the gallows, what would I get for almost killing a cop? Another 10 to 30? Plus, what, five years for escape?

Continue reading Forlorn Hope – Part 03: Men Plan, Gods Laugh →