Tag Archives: authority figures

Security man bondage

More from BreederFuckers. Muscular bastard Bryce is a straight security man. All brawn and no brains. He’s a prime specimen covered in dark manly hair and filled with testosterone, but he spends all his time sat on his juicy arse. Time to use this meathead properly and tie him up for a wicked session of discipline and queer slut training.

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Once he’s bound in place with his arms stretched up, Dave can grope and perv over his masculine naked body. The raunchy fucker is so easily stimulated it only takes a bit of cock manipulation to give him a raging stiff hard on. He’s swiftly taught that this isn’t about his own selfish pleasure. His arse is flogged, and sharp electric shocks are given to his tender prick. But Bryce is the strong and silent type, and since he realizes there is no way out of this he refuses to give his captors the satisfaction of begging. Dave loves a challenge and ingeniously inflicts sadistic punishment that has him howling like a bitch under his ball gag!

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VIDEO available at BreederFuckers

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Ride Along as a Prisoner – Part 6

Ride Along as a Prisoner Part 6 – Five Hours as a Prisoner

By asiancuffs

15 Aug 2017

The wagon hit the highway again, and after that short “social contact” with jailmate, he was not that defensive as before. We started to chat a little bit by asking about each other’s cases. He asked why I was arrested and I just made up something about corruption and he told me that he is involved of forgery of documents, which I already knew from the officers. It was his first time being arrested and he says he was so shameful when police went into his office to arrest him. He was handcuffed with hands behind in front of workmates. Not much more to talk about during the journey only telling him that I will be transported to precinct A, which may be different than where he will be transported. It was also pre-arranged with the officers that I will be leaving the wagon before they return to their station with jailmate.

The wagon is entering G again and heading for the neighbourhood where I will be “released.” The wagon stopped and an officer opens the back door and unlocks the connecting handcuffs restricting my shackles. I was surprised that when I was about to step down the wagon, jailmate reached out his cuffed hands and want to shake my hands. I offer my hand with the rattling of chains, we shake our hands and say good luck to you. One officer took me around the corner to stay away from the sight of jailmate to release me from my restraints, and he gave my phone back to me before he returned to the vehicle. I peeked out from the block and saw the wagon leaving with one real prisoner inside.

Epilogue

We have a nice dinner that evening after the officers were off duty. I thanked them for such a wonderful experience and also asked them about some points that I was not clear about the routine. I asked when we were at the detention center to pick up jailmate, should the officers there know the passenger load of the transport? Their answer made me have a smile on my face, as they say the detention officers’ task is to hand the prisoner to them and who cares if there is any other passenger on board? They also say that there is even a longer transport such as 36 to 48 hours using trains, the railway security wants to stay out of the picture as much as possible, once you show them the necessary documents, they will assign a cabin to you, then you will be on your own to deal with your prisoner. That’s the mentality of civil servants in this country.

The dinner ended with an “invitation” from them: Do you want to ride along in a train with us?

Shall I?

 

The end

Metal would like to thank the author, asiancuffs, for this true story!

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Training the Sergeant – Part 7

By lthr_jock

Davis was gasping as he pounded up the pavement at the end of his eight-mile run. Going on a run was not unusual for Davis – the length of the run and what he was wearing was. He had on a pair of black Underarmour compression shorts, a black and orange pair of Adidas trainers and a sleeveless orange and black compression vest. He had on nothing else except his iPod, which was docked in a holder on his right bicep. Today’s run had been a good one, so he’d done eight rather than five miles. It felt like he was floating along, so he had cranked the music up and ran around oblivious to the stares of the public, who got an extremely good view of the bulge barely hidden by his shorts.

As he approached his house he saw someone stepping away from his doorstep. He pulled out his ear-buds. “Hey there – can I help you with something?”

The man turned and Davis recognised him, though he wasn’t totally sure from where. It was a 6-foot tall young black man – maybe in his late 20s. He was wearing a tight pair of leather jeans, boots and a white wife-beater vest under a leather jacket. His hair was neatly trimmed and he was clean-shaven.

Continue reading Training the Sergeant – Part 7