By Alex Ironrod © 2021

PART THREE – PUNISHMENT

I don’t know how long we hung in our tightly yoked bondage, the dim light refracting on our leather breeches and black boots, as we fought to keep our footing with bound ankles and knees, while our arms ached from being anchored to a high pulley. The sweat dried on our thrashed upper bodies, but our pricks, bound together, enjoyed the constant stimulus and remained rock hard.

Colin gasped occasionally as the rope gag sawed at his tongue, but neither he nor I could move our heads more than an inch and his face was darkened by the leather mask blinding his eyes. He could feel my body as our torsos were bound together, but my groans from the stabbing pain from the nipple clamps were effectively silenced by the black leather gag which had been inflated to fill my mouth.

Eventually our “hosts” returned. “Glad you’re still awake, and ready for the next challenge”, remarked Sergeant Tyrell, stretching in his all-leather uniform and taking off his helmet. Officer Witkowski undid the belts, clamps and cords that bound us together, freeing our pricks to explore further and our bodies to sag independently in their chains.

I was dragged to an upright beam in the basement, feet still bound and my boot taps echoing on the concrete. A butt plug was forced into my cold hole and was kept in place by a leather strap, which then wound round my thighs and waist, with another belt to anchor me to the beam. But first my arms were released from the pulley and both men moved in front of me with a leather straitjacket, into which my numbed, but protesting arms were forced. Then, crossing them over my chest, the straps continued round the back and were firmly tied, immobilizing me in a leather cocoon, but providing some warmth for my striped and bleeding back. Other straps ran between my legs to ensure a tight fit. Next, a thick leather collar was locked into place, forcing up my head and allowing me to look only straight ahead. This in turn was attached by a leather cord to the beam, leaving me bound at the neck, the waist and the thighs, but leaving exposed my still hard prick and the breeches around my knees.

While I was being anchored, Colin was carried over to the old bed in the corner, right in my line of vision. His arms had been unshackled, but now his gloved left hand was forced to the upper corner of the metal headboard and bound there, and, as he struggled feebly, the right was jerked up and fastened to the other corner. His cries through the rope gag were effectively silenced by a couple of backhanded slaps across the face. Then the rope was removed, and an inflatable gag went into his mouth too. With the eye mask and the gag, his face was a pattern of shiny black leather stripes.

But they had not finished with Colin. Witkowski released his ankles and knees from their bonds, then seized his high boots and twisted them off, followed by his leather breeches.

My partner was effectively naked, and the officer grunted with pleasure at the sight of his still waving penis. Tyrell came over, shoving his junior out of the way, and, taking hold of one of Colin’s legs, forced it up and over his shoulders and used the same straps to tie it next to his hand on the headboard, as the second leg followed. Colin was immobilized, bent double and pulling at his bonds, while exposing the pink hole of his ass. Witkowski thrashed it half a dozen times with a riding crop, raising lines of red weals across his buttocks, as Colin bucked futilely in his new bondage.

I watched helplessly, held rigid by the collar and silenced by the gag, as Tyrell checked the straps binding each of us in place. Then the sergeant crossed to his cupboard and brought a shiny black object over to me; zippers and straps crossed the smooth leather.

“It’s a special leather hood, young Jim, with strong zips across the eyes and mouth to keep you extra quiet for the next session”, explained the sergeant. “I know you can’t bend your head in my excellent stiff collar, so I’ll let Witkowski put it on and close you up”.

The officer had only to reach up and slide the black hood over my face, lacing up the back tightly, so that the leather pressed against my face. He undid the collar for a moment, to smooth the edges against my skin and finally to zip up the back cover, closing me into blackness. He dragged the heavy zippers across my eyes and then my mouth, double gagging me into silence. I could breathe only through a small nose hole, which Witkowski, sniggering, closed with one big, gloved hand, while the other fingers tickled my jiggling dick. As my vision started to blur, he released me, and I panted desperately for air.

There was silence for a minute or so. Then came the sound of creaking bedsprings and a gasp and a groan from Colin bent double and exposed on the bed. Grunts and gurgles followed in another voice. I could see nothing, as I struggled and strained in my dark leather prison, staring straight ahead. “My God”, I thought, “one of them is raping Colin, and I can’t stop it”. The sounds of penetration and corresponding muffled cries continued for minutes and then the loud snarls and grunts of a successful climax and satisfaction.

I heard his buttocks slapped a couple of times, and then the man moved off the bed and his booted feet rang on the ground.

After a couple of moments’ pause, the bedsprings squeaked again and there was a further round of groans from Colin and grunts from the other of our black leathered captors. The fucking took longer this time, but eventually there was a climax with shouts, but no words, and again the squeaking bedsprings.

“Alright, Colin, not a bad fuck, so I’ll release your legs and the double load of cum can dribble out of you in comfort”. It was Tyrell’s voice. “We’re going to eat now and relax. Don’t worry, Jim, I haven’t forgotten you. We’ve got something for you too. Keep that pecker up”. And the voice faded, the door slammed, and we were left bound in silence. Colin whimpered and cried around his gag. My double gagging kept my mouth quiet, but my brain was working on ways to avoid the same punishment.

After a while, I heard their boots on the stairs and their voices, cheerful and relaxed. Someone clanked over to Colin on the bed, and I could hear straps being undone, groans and squeaking bedsprings, so I assumed they were lifting him up. The creaking of leather suggested that he was being dressed again and then a further groan and the rattle of chains. I wondered how he had been secured.

“Alright, Jim, I think you know what is expected of you, even if you can’t see anything. So don’t give me any trouble”, rasped Tyrell. “We’re going to loosen the straps and carry you to the bed”. And they did so. The strait jacket and leather hood basically immobilized my upper body, so they had only to slide straps under my arm pits to attach me to the bed head. But they were careless. As one dealt with anchoring me to the frame, the other had untied my ankles and knees. With one desperate effort, I kicked out with each booted leg, and made contact, and, frantically raised my torso, trying to twist out of reach.

But it was only a momentary triumph. “OK, you’ve still got some spirit left. Good, we’ll play rough too’, snarled Tyrell. “Fasten the shoulder straps tightly to the head board and force his head up. Don’t bother to pull off the boots; just pull his breeches down as far as you can and then force his legs up and backward. Those heavy black beauties will pull down at his shoulders and you can tie them together behind his head. That should weaken his balance”.

My effort at resistance only made the bindings more severe, and I could see nothing in my leathered blackness, as the hood clung to my skin, But I could feel everything more intensely. Tyrell was pissed, so I got a sound walloping on my bare butt, laid on with a knotted whip. Without a pause, he was on the bed, twisting the plug out of me, before ramming his engorged tool into my sore ass hole. “You like it like this, don’t you, Officer Barnes, hard and rough. Well, I’ll give you a ride you won’t forget”, rasped the sergeant.

He meant every word, as he bulldozed his way up my beaten and red chute, without lube or spit. I bit down desperately on my leather gag, grinding out the pain.

Tyrell brutally unzipped my mouth gag. “Come on, I want to hear you scream”. But the second gag allowed only diminished cries and anguish, as he ploughed his full seven inches into my cavity and began to slide roughly in and out. I was saved by the fact that his anger fueled his sexual excitement and, after only a few moments of vicious plunging, his cum came shooting up my tube in quantity. He grunted and pulled out, moving off the bed.

His officer was next. I’d never been fucked by Witkowski, although I had had to suck his impressive organ. I bit down on the gag again as I felt his tool enter my cavity. He proceeded slowly, forcing his way in past the sphincter and causing blinding flashes of pain, as I thought he was pulling me apart, followed by numbing twinges and shudders.

I was saved this time by Tyrell’s cum trickling back down and coating Witkowski’s enormous prick on its way up. As he inched in, he grabbed my booted legs, which quivered on my shoulders, and our leathered pants creaked almost in unison. Then he slid back for a moment, keeping only the head inside, before charging back up the now cum-covered chute. He began to ram home; we rocked together on the bed and he held me for a moment while he gained momentum for the final onslaught.

When I thought I could bear the pain no longer, his heavy breathing quickened, and I could feel him gather his strength to loose a stream of hot man-juice right into my innards. He grunted with satisfaction. I felt him climb off the bed and straighten his squeaking uniform.

“OK, Jim, since you don’t seem to want to cooperate, I’m going to leave you trussed up, while we go out on patrol. Then we’ll be back for one final test”, grated the sergeant, and I heard the pair of them clump up the stairs again and away.

I groaned into my heavily bitten gag and tried to find an easier position. The leathered hood clung to my sweaty face and the zippers kept me closed in darkness. The thick collar kept my head erect and immobile, while my arms were crossed tightly over my chest in the leather straitjacket, now strapped to the headboard. Bent almost double, my legs ached from the weight of my knee-high black boots, strapped together somewhere over my head and shoulders.

There was no comfortable position, and I was afraid of toppling sideways. Cold cum began to seep out of my abused and heated ass – but at least most of me was still warm. What about Colin? Occasionally I heard the creak of his leather uniform, the rattle of a chain and muffled whimpering. But what they had done to him, I had no idea. I was just trying to hold on myself in this agonizing game of challenges, and I lost all sense of time.

At last they returned, still full of macho spirit and cum. “Alright, you two, time for the final test”, breezed the sergeant, “Take him down, Witkowski, and rest him”. Officer Jake untied my legs and pulled them down flat. I groaned into the gag and groaned again as his gloved hand played with my flaccid cock. Under his skillful fingers, it began to come back to life. I’d had no real release in days, and the time bound to Colin’s penis had charged my member to new levels of excitement. Witkowski’s warm leathered hand soon had it fully roused.

Around me, I could hear noises of furniture being pulled around and a fresh cry from Colin, followed by terse inaudible commands from Tyrell and diminishing moans from my friend. Something was happening, but what? The officer stopped ministering to my prick and climbed off the bed. I tried to make out the sounds.

Another silence, but for hoarse breathing. Then Tyrell’s voice in my ear “Come on, Barnes, stand up and move. You’ve just got one more test. Then we’ll think about a hot shower and breakfast. On your feet, up and walk with me”. I managed to swing my boots off the bed, to stand up and shuffle along, with my breeches around my knees and my enlarged tool straining forward. Suddenly the sounds of the sea echoed in my head – there must be earphones in the hood, and the white noise drowned out everything, except for Tyrell’s insidious voice “Just a few steps further, and then I’ve found you a nice hole to plough with your eager prick”.

He moved behind me, pushing me a couple of steps forward and holding me upright in his leathered grip. I could feel the warmth of his body and his tool growing in his pants, as he embraced me more closely, wrapping an arm round the straitjacket. I began to sweat again. My boot encountered an obstacle – another boot. The sergeant’s voice murmured in my head ‘Almost there. Let me zip you closed” and he double-gagged my mouth again, so that no sound came out.

Another step, and I could smell the warm leather all round me. “Don’t be afraid” [as the sweat ran down my leathered face, held upright by the thick collar]. “Let’s give both our pricks a last-minute charge”. One gloved hand rippled along my straining penis, and my breath grew thicker. I felt him move his pants’ zipper and his aroused member shot out and into the crack of my ass.

“Now, slide home. I’ll guide you”. His gloved hand maneuvered my tool into a warm hole, and I sank in. Someone groaned loudly – I heard him. Then Tyrell’s member shoved into my chute and I fell forward onto a leathered back, with him on top of me. Both of us were now glued in our holes and I gloried in the pleasure and freedom, as my prick pushed in and out relentlessly, and Tyrell’s prick followed in rhythm.

But whose body was I fucking so eagerly? It didn’t feel like Witkowski, which left only – -Colin. My God, I had mounted my best friend without knowing it. Yet my traitorous penis leapt forward at the idea, and I was fully in the saddle and enjoying the release, even as my mind and part of my body resisted the thought. The sergeant was ploughing into me, grunting loudly, and my breath grew more ragged.

I was the raw meat in the middle of the sandwich, but, hooded, gagged and bound as I was, I was white hot with lust and panting for release – release into the narrow passage of my partner. My boots banged against his boots. He must be tied down and gagged tightly, the thought shot across my mind, but then my balls tightened, and I climaxed with a mighty ejaculation. My cum streamed up Colin’s chute – my mate had been fucked by me and I’d enjoyed every minute of it. On top of me, the sergeant’s prong released its load into me, and he roared with laughter as he gradually pulled out and off me.

“Congratulations, you’ve passed your final test. Now, do you want to see what happened?”

I slumped forward in the black straitjacket, as Tyrell loosened the zippers and cords at the back of my hood and roughly jerked it off my wet and steamy head. I blinked in the dim light and my collar forced me to look ahead at my victim. His body was stretched out over the sawhorse, roped across the chest and waist and strapped down at the four corners, as the light winked on the black leathers and the exposed and reddened buttocks. Witkowski was standing at the leathered head; he pulled off the black mask and forced the head around.

It was indeed Colin, in whom my prick was still buried. His gagged mouth moaned in protest and his eyes had a look of dismay and betrayal. Unable to take any more, my mind closed down.

I don’t remember much after that. I think I was dragged over the sawhorse in turn, after being released from the strait jacket and zipped back into my own leather jacket. I suppose I too was strapped down and immobilized. My hole was invaded again, after being severely paddled and beaten again. At least three times pricks of varying thicknesses thrust their way in and released their cum.

One of them must have been Colin. I was beyond feeling much pain and I didn’t care anymore. Tyrell had accomplished his mission – and where was my revenge?   Eventually I was untied, the gag removed, a fresh butt plug thrust up my hole and my pants pulled back up. I curled into a ball, near Colin, and slept.

Much later, I heard Tyrell’s voice “On your feet, up. Congratulations, you’ve both passed your tests, and now you’re part of my squad of prize leather cops. Take off those grubby uniforms and boots, climb into the shower and clean up. Don’t look at each other like that – you each fucked the other – and right willingly. It’s Sunday afternoon. Time to go home and get some rest”.

After he left, Colin and I gazed at each other; he reached out and gripped my arm with a slight smile. “Come on, we’re in together, and after all we went through, that’s what counts”. His willingness to forgive – and perhaps forget – embarrassed me, but I smiled in return and staggered to my feet. We helped each other out of our leathers and began to unknot under the hot shower.

Soaping his privates, I began to relax. “I’m sorry, Colin, I didn’t know it was you at first. I’m sorry I enjoyed it”. “Calm down, Jim, it’s not the end of the world. I’d had you last week and enjoyed it [as well as today]. I’m pleased that I was the recipient of your first full fuck. The main thing is not to give in to the sergeant. Let him think he’s won, so he’ll keep us on his team. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” I was surprised how matter of fact he was about the whole experience of the previous 24 hours. My mind told me he was right, but my body ached too much to take it all in.

We washed the dirt and cum away, gently cleaning our bleeding backs and backsides, glorying in the hot water. Eventually we crawled out and dressed in the tracksuits Tyrell had left, in place of our begrimed uniforms. In the office, Tyrell still waited. “You look better already. OK, you bastards, go home and rest. I don’t want to see you until Tuesday evening. Witkowski will drive you home. Oh, I almost forgot. Here are your Tyrell pins to wear on your uniforms. It identifies you as mine”. The small black enameled badge showed a clenched gloved hand, with three fingers raised in the air in salute.

To be continued …

Alex Ironrod granted permission for this story to be posted here. You can find much more at his website — alex-ironrod.com — and on his author page at Amazon.