Category Archives: Story

Story

Forlorn Hope – Part 04: The Road Ends Here

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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.

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Story

Forlorn Hope – Part 03: Men Plan, Gods Laugh

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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?

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Story

Forlorn Hope – Part 02: Fate’s Fetters

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By DR754

Today is Saturday, August 6, 1967.

Long story short, I made it out of town ahead of the State Police roadblocks and over the mountains into Montana. I kept going east, trying to put as many miles between myself and Moscow as I could. In Deer Lodge, I passed the towering stone walls of the Montana State Prison – is this what my literature prof would call foreshadowing?

I was getting a bit sleepy, but getting a hotel seemed far too risky – visions of awakening to the barrels of police revolvers danced in my head. Turning off the highway somewhere south of Butte, I drove up a logging road deep into the mountains, then stopped in a disused log transfer site. Flipping on the radio, my heart skipped a beat as a news bulletin crashed through the AM static.

Daring escape from Idaho courtroom – convict on the run – deputy fights for his life.

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Story

Forlorn Hope – Part 01: Fugitive Fugue

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By DR754

Today is Friday, August 5, 1967.

Three hours ago, I was a more-or-less law-abiding citizen standing in the Latah County Courthouse in Moscow, Idaho, waiting for the jury to bring back a “not guilty” verdict, as my pricey lawyer had assured me they would. Now I’m a fugitive from justice speeding through the Rockies with a handcuff around one wrist and no idea what to do next.

But let’s back up. My name’s DR754, I’m 38, and earlier this summer, I returned to the University of Idaho, my alma mater, to talk to classes at the School of Forestry and recruit promising students. One evening, I had taken the opportunity to, well, make a more intimate connection with a couple of students I’d picked up cruising the college town’s infamous bar district. Once a Vandal, always a Vandal, I reasoned.

Big. Mistake.

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Story

A Day on the Beach

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By Cutieboy90

male bondage stories Cutieboy90They said it would be a relaxing vacation. They said it would be several care-free days of lounging on the beach and soaking up some tropical sun. They never said Mitch would be doing any of that.

Mitch growled into the thick towel knotted in his mouth. His tongue was dry and his lips felt chapped from being stretched and cleaved by the towel for so long. At least the towel had been clean. He sighed in exasperation.

“Be grateful, Mitch,” he told himself as he chewed on the gag. This was the only movement he was allowed, though. The rest of body had been rendered immobile for several hours, having been buried up to his neck in sand. His friends had prepared by digging the hole in advance; all they’d had to do was manhandle Mitch into it in the dim light of dawn and fill it back in. They’d been sure to pack the sand down tightly around him.

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Story

First Time? – Part 02

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By slavebladeboi

I sat looking into my empty coffee cup listening to the gurgle of the machine on the countertop that was making the coffee to go into it. I was feeling very unsure about the present contents of my basement. I told him I’d hold him to the agreement he’d signed, but I could see he was totally out of his depth there. Looking at the screen, where I could see him hanging limply in that spread eagle, he had diminished in size almost, certainly he wasn’t looking like the gym-fit stud that I’d carried in. Dejected and lost would sum it up. If I went through with my threat then he’d live, he’d be in pain for a lot of the time and arrive home sore, but he’d get over it in a few days, physically. Not so sure mentally. Would that experience put him off for life? Would he feel unable to cope and maybe turn his back on what could be the best thing he had in life for the future? Difficult to know, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to test that theory. So I planned something different.

I opened the door and slammed it behind me in one noisy move. He jumped enough to make those taut chains rattle. Walking up to him I stared straight into his face and waved the contract under his nose.

“This! This is your contract. You wrote some of it, you signed it and you swore it was correct. Well? Didn’t you?”

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Story

First Time? – Part 01

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By slavebladeboi

“I know, I know, we all make mistakes,” I said, putting my hands each side of his face and stroking the skin, or at least the bits that weren’t covered by the leather gag and head harness.

I looked straight into his eyes, now filled with tears of fear, maybe terrified, but it’s all the same really at this stage. He struggled a bit, the chains that held him spread eagled in that oh so delicious and vulnerable vertical position rattled slightly. I increased the tension a tiny bit more.

His intake of breath proved it was enough for the moment and it did stop the chains from moving.

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Story

Copdar – An Officer from the Suburbs

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By Cuffsandcops

With an unexpected day off before winter holiday recess, I found myself looking for a few last minute gifts. There were a few stores I had remembered visiting before the pandemic in the northern suburbs. Since I get my haircut by a barber in that vicinity, I had knowledge of a town police department located a few blocks from barber shop and decided to pass by it on the way to the shops.

I pulled off the highway and passed through a few traffic lights before being stopped at a busy intersection. As I looked to the vehicles entering the intersection to my left, I noticed a blue SUV, that upon closer look, was an unmarked police vehicle. The spotlight on the driver’s side and the reflection off the gold badge were the clues that identified the vehicle as part of a law enforcement fleet. After the light turned green allowing me to proceed, I was about 4 vehicles behind the SUV and we were heading towards the police station near my barbershop. I figured the SUV would pull into the department and I would carry on to the shops.

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