Yeah, that’s Terry Miller in this poster for Mr S!
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The sadistic guard takes real delight in cruelly mocking this defenseless naked prisoner. The tough young criminal does his best to comply and obediently strips his clothes and pulls open his stinking arsehole. His cock and balls shamefully bounce around as he exposes himself, but he unclenches his hole as the embarrassing onslaught of scrutiny hits him. It’s sexual embarrassment and physical discipline like this that allows the guards to maintain their absolute authority in a prison filled with rebellious thugs!
See video at Strip Search Hell
By Rubrpig
This is a work of fiction loosely based on a fabled facility, The Academy.
The author writes chained into a chair, wearing Wesco boots, a Carrara chastity belt, heavy leather posture collar and nipple clamps as required by his Master and Owner. It has been locked in the chastity belt for 3 years and has agreed to it being made permanent.
And it continues…
Gary tried struggling but the straps did not allow for much movement, but the Officer’s cocks got hard as they stood watching Gary struggle as the heavy leather of the sleep sack squeaked and squealed as it rubbed on the leather of the chair. They rubbed their cocks through the material of their breeches and then left the room. Gary was all set for a 24-hour session, and they would come in every 6 hours and connect Gary to a feeding pump, but they were sure Gary would not realize they were there.
Gary laid there on the chair, secure in the sack…
Gary laid on the reclined chair, his head and torso elevated so he was in a semi raised position. He struggled again the heavy leather of the sleep sack and the straps that hold him tight against the chair. His head was rigidly held by the heavy leather and steel posture collar that was locked around his neck. He finally calmed down and laid quietly, his breathing rasping through the grommets in the heavy hood. He finally relaxed into the bondage and the chair that held him.
The Guys In Lockup experience offers a full, high-definition vision of guys in lockup, which begins for the inmates when the steel door of the jail intake area closes behind them.
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See more like this at Real Working Men
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By Robmacz
After being told that he had no right to a phone call Tom turned around and looked at his cell. It reminded him of the cell he was in only a few days before, a bed, a wash basin and toilet, but nothing else. The one main difference was that there was a solid wall separating him from the cells either side and he could only look out of the bars and see a short corridor that led to the area where Charlie’s desk was. Only one of the other cells was occupied and that was by a drunk. Tom could smell the drink and sick coming from his cell, which was not helped by the heat of the place. It seemed as though this was the only part of the terminal building without air conditioning.
Tom spent the rest of the day and night in the cell. No one came to collect him. His only interaction was being brought some food and drink. This consisted of a sandwich and some water in the evening and a sandwich and some coffee for breakfast. For the rest of the time he was alone with his thoughts. He tried to make sense of what had happened to him, but couldn’t. He was sure that once the US Marshals arrived they would sort this out and he would be free to go.
If you work in the nick you accept that some prisoners become accustomed to total humiliation. To some extent they expect it, and it’s no-ones job to be concerned about why a man wants to be strip-searched. If a man acts in a way that you suspect that he’s stashed contraband up his arehole, then you have no choice but to inspect him thoroughly. It’s just a straight coincidence isn’t it that the places men choose to hide stuff are also their sexual private parts!
Video at Strip Search Hell
By lthr_jock
Mike panicked at the thought of being paraded down his own street dressed like he was and braced his feet, trying to resist as Jan pushed him towards the door. “Jan, come on, you can’t…” Mike paused as the muscled Pole pushed him another foot towards the door. “You can’t fucking DO this!”
Mike twisted out of Jan’s grip and turned to face him. Jan’s reaction was to shove Mike hard in the chest causing him to crash into the door with a massive thud. As he hit, the back of his head slammed against the door, causing him to see stars momentarily. That was all the time Jan needed. Before Mike could do anything else, he slammed a fist into Mike’s stomach. The young copper doubled up and as he gasped for breath, he felt Jan force a large rubber ball into his mouth. In seconds it was secured behind his head. Mike was relieved as he knew Jan couldn’t take him outside while he was gagged. He stood up, gasping for air through the gag and watched as Jan pulled a spit hood out from a pocket on the stab vest.
He pulled it down over Mike’s head and then secured it around his throat. Mike peered out through the cloth and realised this had been treated somehow – it was hard to see anything because Jan had painted the inside of the hood so that his features would be totally invisible. He relaxed as he realised that no-one would recognise him and he stopped struggling as Jan opened the door.