By Robmacz

The flight from Heathrow to Dulles was one that Tom had done a half a dozen times before. In July there was an annual conference in Washington which he attended on behalf of his company. Usually he stayed three nights and was back in London before the end of the week. He had done the sights of Washington years before and really had no need to see it again. However, this time he was taking a week’s annual leave immediately after the conference and he would be spending five days in jail.

Okay, so it’s not everyone’s idea of a holiday, but for as long as he could remember Tom had been fascinated by prison. He watched prison movies, he watched prison porn, he read books about prison and he joined chat rooms to talk about it. You could say it was a bit of an obsession with him. It was in one of these chat rooms that he met Chris. Chris was from Virginia and had a very similar interest to him. Over the last 18 months they Skype called each other at least once a week to talk about the latest photos or videos they had found. Often they would do the call wearing a prison uniform, cuffs and chains. As a kink went it was niche, but it made both of them very horny.

A few months ago Chris had found details of a purpose built cell block for kinky guys. It was located in rural North Carolina and you could hire it for a period to live out your fantasies. When Tom told Chris that he would be in Washington that July they decided to book in for 5 days. They looked at all the options, which included just hire of the facility, or guards could be present as well. For an additional fee they would arrest you at a specified place and then transport you to the jail. Both Tom and Chris opted for the full package. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and they both wanted to experience the full works.

Tom’s plane landed just after 1pm EST, but it was not until gone 4pm that he opened the door to his hotel room. The heat in Washington was stifling, but his room was nicely air conditioned. He went to the minibar and helped himself to a beer and sat down in the chair by the window, which looked over the city. The dome of the Capitol and the Washington Monument could be seen in the skyline about a mile or so away, but he wasn’t interested in looking at the sights. He’d seen them before. What was occupying his mind was the thought of being behind bars for five days. He didn’t know how he was going to pay much attention to the conference. At least he wasn’t giving a paper.

As expected, the conference was a dull affair. Tom was usually a good networker during the breaks between sessions or over lunch and dinner. Some useful contacts had come his way from this gathering in the past, but this time he could not concentrate. By the morning of the final day his heart was beating faster than normal and he was getting butterflies in his stomach. Thank God, he thought that it would finish at noon. There was a lunch afterwards, of course there was, but he would skip that. He wanted to get on with what he had come for, and besides he wasn’t hungry at all.

Tom left the conference centre as soon as the last session had finished, picking up his small suitcase from the cloakroom on the way out. He had checked out of his hotel that morning and he was traveling light, thinking he wouldn’t require much in the way of clothes for a week in jail. His suitcase contained just a couple of t-shirts, pair of shorts, flip flops, and underwear as well as his shaving stuff and his dirty washing from earlier in the week. He quickly opened the case to deposit his iPad and left the building in search of a taxi. Any onlooker would have seen a good looking late thirties guy about 6 feet tall. He was walking confidently towards the road wearing a charcoal grey suit, white shirt and yellow tie, a pair of black tassel loafers on his feet. He looked the self-assured business man that he apparently was. But what the onlooker would not have seen was his deep desire to be put behind bars.

Within less than a minute Tom had hailed a cab and was climbing in, giving the driver the address of the place he wanted to be taken. As the taxi driver pulled away from the curb, Tom thought about how hot it was outside. Wearing a suit in an air conditioned conference centre was one thing, but he didn’t think it was the best attire to get arrested in. Perhaps he should have thought about this a bit more carefully, but there was not enough time to find somewhere to change now. He took off his jacket and tie, folded them up and put them in his suitcase. The jacket would be creased, but he could get it pressed when he returned home. He rolled up his shirt sleeves, exposing his forearms, and all the time he was thinking how the handcuffs would look on them when they snapped round his wrists.

The rendezvous was several miles south-west on the other side of the Potomac. No longer DC, though you wouldn’t have known you had left Washington, given that the urban sprawl continued for several miles. The cab pulled up outside a multi-story car park.

‘This is it’ the driver said as he turned round in the front seat to look at his fare. Tom paid the driver with a generous tip and got out of the cab. Holding his suitcase he walked into the car park.

There was a handful of cars parked on the ground floor. He looked around for an elevator, but the only one he could find had a sign saying ‘out of order’ on it. The stairs were nearby and he quickly walked up the six flights of stairs to the third floor. As he opened the door he could see there were even less cars parked here than on the lower level and there was no one in sight. He walked down one side of the floor looking for space 22. He found it quickly enough and put his suitcase down and waited.  He was a bit early.

Over in the far corner of the car park a man sat in his car watching Tom. He checked his phone to view a photo to be sure it was the right man. He decided to wait a while. The more a guy waited with nothing to do the more he brooded on what was about to happen. After five minutes he started the engine and then accelerated fast over to the other side, coming to a screeching halt beside Tom.

The man got out of the car.  He was dressed in a uniform, with a badge. He looked every inch a policeman. He was a good two inches taller than Tom and  although Tom had a good body this guy was in great shape.

‘Tom Matthews?’ the cop asked authoritatively.

‘Yes’ Tom replied, his mouth dry as the word came out.

‘I have a warrant for your arrest Mr Matthews. Put your hands on the car while I search you.’

Tom did as he was told. He felt the cop pat him down, feeling the large bulge that had developed in his trousers. Tom hadn’t cum in over a week and he was leaking now.

The patting down stopped and the cop grabbed Tom’s right arm and pulled it behind his back. As he did so he started to read Tom his rights and at the same moment Tom felt the first cuff snap round his right wrist. Then the left hand was brought down and locked into place. Tom started breathing heavily. His adventure was underway, it felt amazing. The cop opened the back door of the car and helped Tom inside. He could now see what he hadn’t observed before – that this was in fact a police car, with plastic seats in the back for prisoners, and a screen separating him from the officer in the front. As he sat down the cop leaned in and fixed the seat belt in place. As he did so Tom could see his name badge on his shirt – ‘Jackson.’ ‘Very pleased to meet you officer Jackson’ he thought to himself. Jackson slammed the back door shut and put Tom’s suitcase in the boot of the car. He came round to the front and sat in the driver’s seat. Before moving off he made a call on his phone. ‘I have one suspect in custody, all proceeding to plan.’

They drove south, out of the Washington suburbs and headed towards Richmond. Tom gazed out of the window, watching the world go by. Despite the little curve in the rear of the seat to make space for the hands of prisoners who were cuffed behind their backs, he was now quite uncomfortable, but his dick told him that he was enjoying the experience. A few miles south of Richmond the cop turned off the main road. Tom had no idea where he was, but very soon they pulled up behind a car parked on the side of the road. The cop got out and Tom saw him walk up to the driver’s window of the other car. After a minute the driver’s door opened. Tom moved his head to get a better view and realised that the man stepping out of the car was Chris.

The timing was good.  Chris had been waiting no more than ten minutes. He saw the cop car pull up behind him and he started to get excited. He was even more excited when Jackson walked up to the car and asked to see his driving licence and registration. When he asked Chris to step out of the vehicle Chris did as he was told and very soon had his hands on the roof of the car and was being patted down. Then he felt the cuffs go on and like Tom before him, he was immediately hard. Jackson walked Chris to the back of the car and opened the door. Tom had been watching as best he could from the back seat, but he was now very excited indeed.

As Chris got into the back of the car, Tom started to say something, but Jackson told him that no talking was permitted. They both obeyed the command, but they were looking at each other intensely. This was the first time they had met in person, and they both liked what they saw. Chris had a grin on his face as he looked at Tom, who gave him a wink in return. As the cop got into the car he made another call to say he had the second suspect in custody and he was returning to base.

They sat in silence for the remaining part of the journey. It was a long trip, but the excitement remained.  They continued to head south to the border with North Carolina before once again turning off the main road into a remote area. It was late afternoon, and the trees put the road completely in shadow.  They drove for several miles without seeing a soul.  Then a long driveway. There was no sign of what this place was but both Tom and Chris thought that they must be getting close to their destination.

Eventually the car pulled up by a very plain brick building.  Jackson got out and went inside. He emerged a minute or so later with another cop wearing the same uniform. This guy was younger and if anything even better looking than Jackson. The shirt of his uniform was filled by his bulky frame and his tight trousers hugged his thighs. His buzz cut made him look almost military.

The two cops each opened one of the back doors to the car. The one that had just stepped out of the building opened Tom’s door and assisted him out of the vehicle. As he was getting out he caught sight of the cop’s name badge – ‘Elliott.’ Chris was helped out of the other side of the car by Jackson. Once they were both out of the car they were marched into the building and told to sit down on the two plastic seats that were off to one side.

They began to look around the room they had come into. Immediately in front of them was a desk. On the wall behind it hung numerous cuffs and chains.  Slightly to the right of that was a height chart where prisoners had their photos taken.  On the wall to the left was a barred door with the words CELL BLOCK written above. Tom and Chris had been wanting to experience Jail and this was it.

The two cops were talking in the corner. Elliott seemed to be the one in charge. After they had finished their conversation Elliott walked over to Chris and Tom and addressed them for the first time.

‘You’ve both been convicted and sentenced to five days in jail. You will abide by the rules of the jail and you will address me or officer Jackson as Sir at all times. Do you understand?’

Both Tom and Chris answered ‘Yes Sir’ in unison.

‘Okay, then let’s get you both processed’ said Elliott. ‘You first’ as he pointed towards Chris.

To be continued…