By Hunter Perez

I couldn’t believe my good fortune – there I was, sitting in a steamy sauna with JimmyUSMC luxuriating next to me while showing off his tattoo-decorated muscles.

“Oh, Jimmy,” I purred as I examined the intricate designs inked across his hard body. “I haven’t had such a visceral artistic experience since the Tom of Finland exhibit at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Detroit.

Jimmy winked at me as he flexed his right arm’s bicep under the face. “I bet you’d like to sip the sweat off my muscles, Bingo. Go ahead, take a taste.”

I puckered my lips and closed my eyes while moving closer to his arm. But then, a series of shrill buzzes filled my ears. I opened my eyes and found myself alone in my bed while the distinctive odor of bad cooking wafted in from the kitchen. I sat up and groaned.

“Simon, are you trying to make breakfast again?” I yelled out.

Simon peaked in, naked under an apron featuring the Chilly Willy cartoon character. “Sorry about the noise, boyfriend. I had such fun last night that I thought I’d surprise you with your favorite: protein pancakes. They’re almost ready.”

Simon ducked back to the kitchen while I dropped to my pillow.

“I’m not your boyfriend,” I muttered to myself. “And protein pancakes are not my favorite breakfast. Oh, damn, why can’t I get a fuck buddy who can cook? And why can’t I get a dream where I actually get to manhandle JimmyUSMC?”

I rubbed my hand over my crotch and smiled, quickly forgetting the dashed dream and the culinary chaos that awaited me. “But I did have fun last night, I must admit. I’m glad I got this chastity cage – I am so horned up that I’m ready to burst.”

Indeed, my cock was locked inside a tight chastity cage – I bought a device that was one size smaller than recommended – and not being able to access my manhood created an overnight adventure with Simon that was in my top ten list of carnal delights. I also congratulated myself for storing the key in my dresser drawer and not telling Simon where it was – with his luck, he would probably drop it down the toilet or do something crazy that would trap me in the device.

As I sat up and started to get out of bed, I debated about taking off the chastity cage. Part of me wanted to let myself go and have full access to my crotch, while the other part of me enjoyed the sensation of being caged. I opted to stay locked, so I quickly hopped to the bathroom and took a piss while sitting on the toilet before putting on a t-shirt and pajama bottoms to have my breakfast.

At the kitchen table, Simon arranged a mug of black coffee, a sliced orange in a bowl and plate of trapezoidal protein pancakes that were charred around the edges. I tapped at the meal and burned bits flaked off.

“Sorry about that, boyfriend,” Simon said with a faint smile as I fingered the ashy remnants.

“Don’t fret,” I replied. “I’ll save it in a jar and give it to the church when it’s time for the Ash Wednesday service.”

As I sat down and reached for my coffee, a text message ping emanated from my cell phone. I looked at the phone’s screen and grinned. “Hey, it’s Jock. He says he is downstairs and asked if he can come up. I’ll tell him there’s breakfast here if he wants it.”

“Should I make him some protein pancakes?” Simon asked.

I pushed the plate to Simon. “Nah, he can have mine. I’m not really that hungry. I’ll just have the orange and coffee.”

Simon stepped behind me and started to massage my shoulders. “I haven’t seen Jock in a while. What’s he been up to?”

“Oh, he started a new gig,” I said as Simon’s powerful hands kneaded my shoulders. “His photography business slowed down, so he got licensed to be a bail enforcement agent.”

“A bounty hunter?” Simon squealed, tightening his grip on my shoulders. “Oh, that must be fun. He’s such a big, strong guy that he’ll have no trouble grabbing crooks.”

“You’re a big, strong guy, too – a little too strong,” I complained, shaking my shoulders free from Simon’s grip. “Be careful, I’m attached to those things.”

The doorbell rang and Simon raced over to open the door. Jock slowly strode in, and I could not believe what I saw – he wore a tight bulletproof vest marked “Bail Enforcement” across the chest and carried a utility belt that held two handcuff holsters, several zip-ties, a pepper spray can, a large silver badge and a holster for a large cell phone. He wore a black t-shirt that was so tight that it seemed to be painted on his muscular upper torso, tight black slacks that showed off his meaty thighs, and a black baseball cap with a handcuff image that shaded his eyes. My caged cock suddenly swelled inside its chastity prison, causing me to shift uncomfortably as Jock sat next to me at the kitchen table.

“Damn, you look like something out of a KinkMen video,” I said. “So, how is the new job working out?”

“I’m on duty now,” he responded, his voice coming in at a lower and somewhat more somber level than usual. “I have to transport a fugitive to Pittsburgh.”

Simon took the third seat at the table and looked at me with his typical cheery expression. “Bingo, maybe you can help Jock? After all, you’re from Pittsburgh.”

I shot an annoyed look at Simon. “I’m not from Pittsburgh – I lived there for a few months before I moved here. And Jock doesn’t need my help – damn, look at him with those muscles bulging out of his clothing. He’ll do fine without me.”

“Oh, I got it wrong,” Simon said. “I remember you said you went to jail in Pittsburgh.”

I sighed angrily. “You still have it wrong, Simon. I’ve never been in jail. I told you that story – I fell in with a bad crowd when I was living in Pittsburgh and got arrested, but my case was dismissed before it went to trial.”

“I remember that story,” Jock said. “That was a real stroke of luck on your part.”

“Yeah, for once I lucked out,” I continued. “The pandemic broke at that time. When the courts were shut down and cases were backed up, my attorney was able to get my case dismissed.”

“But there is one part of that story that I never understood,” Jock said. “If I remember, you were working as a supermarket cashier by day and playing in a bar band at night – and you said that you were always broke at the time. If you were arrested, where did you get the money to make bail?”

I leaned back in my chair and laughed. “Oh, that was another stroke of luck. The cop who brought me in had a brother-in-law who just began a bail bonds company, and I was one of his first clients. He got me out of the police station within an hour. He was an incredible guy – a big, jolly fella with a bushy beard. Damn, I wish I could remember his name because he was so good to me.”

“Was his name Gregory Arkadin?” Jock asked.

I sipped my coffee while looking at Jock with surprise. “Yes, Mr. Arkadin. How did you recall that? I don’t think I told you that part of the story.”

“You didn’t,” Jock said glumly while pulling an envelope out from his bulletproof vest. “And your case wasn’t dismissed, Bingo, it was postponed. But because of the confusion created during the pandemic, it was postponed and then forgotten until last week when a review of court cases found it was still open. Gregory Arkadin is the president of the bail enforcement agency that I’m now working for, and I’ve been assigned to bring you back to Pittsburgh to stand trial.”

I violently spit out my coffee and nearly fell off my chair. “You’re what? My case was dismissed years ago. My attorney told me that, which is why I left Pittsburgh.”

“It wasn’t, and you’re going back,” Jock said, slowly standing up while extracting a pair of handcuffs from his utility belt. “Now, will come along quietly or will I have to restrain you?”

To be continued…