Tag Archives: Desert Pioneer

Hidden Detention — Part 06

By Desert Pioneer

The move out the door takes Jack by surprise as he retreats behind a tree. Jack’s thinking that things are now ending is overruled as he watches Officer Merce light up a pipe full of weed and instruct all three to inhale. Soon Roy heads back in saying he’s got some cardio to do, while the other three remain outside for a bit longer. Giving them a few minutes to settle Jack puts his face back to the same peephole.

First off, Jack sees Feller at the jail cell that had bound Street Punk. Officer Merce is just tightening up the straitjacket on Feller and uses leather shackles to bind his legs at the knees and ankles. Merce carefully sits Feller on the floor with his legs straight out and secures him to the bottom part of the cell. He adds a collar that he also locks to the bars, denying Feller the ability to move his head. Merce tightens Feller’s hood and snaps the blinders over his eyeholes, leaving him without a sense of sight. Feller’s head is reduced to a pussy-like white-gray bushy circle surrounding his lips mounted on a leather-covered orb. Merce squats down using his fingers to inspect the hole that had serviced him earlier. Finally, he pulls up his chair in front of Feller, providing himself a full view of the others while he uses Feller’s shoulders for a footrest.

Continue reading Hidden Detention — Part 06

Hidden Detention — Part 05

By Desert Pioneer

Arriving at the end of the path, Jack gets his first look at the blockhouse. Abandoned now, it was originally built as a defensive lookout by rural politicos to protect and defend. The structure involves a number of loopholes for defensive fire. Holly shit, thinks Jack, they’re using it as a fuck house, and it’s fucking full of glory holes. Although the light from inside is low, the darkness outside lights up each loophole as if it was calling for voyeurs. It appears that everyone is inside, but Jack remains back for some time because the smell of weed is pungent, and someone might still be outside.

After a bit and hearing only a low melodic tap-tap beat from inside, Jack carefully approaches one side of the blockhouse for his first peek.

Officer Merce is standing near the doorway by a small bar. He is talking to Feller in a rapid tone while poking his finger into his chest. Merce is wearing a full CHIP uniform including boots. Jack thinks that his uniform along with the overplayed attitude and arrogant body language smack of an unpolished sexual bully.

Continue reading Hidden Detention — Part 05

Hidden Detention — Part 04

By Desert Pioneer

“Officer Merse will speak to you now,” said Jack’s captor, who was jerking him by his arm to the wooden porch on the blockhouse.

Jack thinks Officer Merse must be the top in charge, and other than obeying his commands, Jack’s not sure of the roles of either Goon 1 or Goon 2.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” demands Officer Merse to Jack, his face still concealed in a bag.

“I’m Jack, and I’m checkin out the local shit around here.”

“Looks like you are the shit around here. I told you to get lost punk. Do you know who the hell you’re fuckin talking to punk?”

“ Ya know what, I can’t even see who I’m fuckin talking to punk.”

WHAMM … knowing it’s outside of Jack’s limits Goon 2 delivers another (not-so-hard) gut punch, taking Jack by surprise. “You’re out of here in a quick minute but ain’t no city panty-ass pole smoker gonna disrespect Officer Merse, got it?” says Goon 2.

Continue reading Hidden Detention — Part 04

Hidden Detention — Part 03

By Desert Pioneer

Immediately Jack figures he knows what is going on. This night was more than he could have imagined. Yet I’ve imagined so much, but I could have done without the sucker punch. Kidnap with bag over head, however, on the bucket list.

Without the use of his sight, Jack is led deeper into the trees, perhaps along that path but at times through undergrowth. Neither Jack nor either of his captors speak a word. Jack doesn’t think his chance of being released is very good but wonders if he should add some resistance as part of the role play (if that is what this is). Actually, this is pretty shitty role play he thinks. Too obvious. Yet the dress up cop had seemed pretty adamant about Jack leaving. If this is some back woods role play Jack is clearly not on the invitation list. Still, they could have used further measures to get Jack to leave but instead they are dragging him deeper into the woods.

Continue reading Hidden Detention — Part 03

Hidden Detention — Part 02

By Desert Pioneer

“Well, what’s missing from this picture?” thinks Jack. Cowboy Cop doesn’t want me around the rest stop. Could be a drug sale or maybe prostitution. Or could be he’s just an asshole. Rather than pulling out onto the highway Jack circles around the rest stop, up through where the truckers park and back down in the car section. “Well one thing that’s missing is a police car,” Jack notes. He’s either not on official business, or most likely not a cop at all.

As he circles around back into the truck parking Jack notices one of the truckers walking towards but not to the men’s room. Jack backs his car into the most remote upper space of the truck parking and turns off the engine. Really tough to see where this guy is headed to, perhaps the wooded area behind the stop.

“OK, this is what fantasy is all about,” Jack figures. Trucker headed to the woods and some dress-up cop protecting the area. Yeah out here in red neck back country; most likely to be a gun club or maybe poker, drinking and cigars. Jack gets out of his car and moves around the edge of the rest area trying to position himself for a deeper look into the woody area behind the men’s room. He stations himself leaning on a tree a bit behind the men’s room and barely makes out a path leading into the woods.

Continue reading Hidden Detention — Part 02

Hidden Detention — Part 01

By Desert Pioneer

Thursday 9PM, driving north on SH-99 Jack is getting tired. Looking for something to occupy his mind on this crazy lonesome drive Jack fantasizes about maybe pulling into a rest stop. Not a too busy rest stop, a few cars and a few trucks, on a not so major highway. The trucks are silent and cool, like they are there for a while. The men’s room has a single bulb light over the door and no traffic in or out of the door. Stuff that a fantasy is made of.

Jack’s black roadster pulls into the middle of the stop with a full view of the men’s room door. He waits and thinks about what he might run into in the restroom. Cutting his thoughts against reality he considers that this is interior northern California; not a liberal in your face queer community, but likely full of red necks who are hot in fantasy but pretty dull, and sometimes dangerous, in reality.

“What a shitty fantasy” he thinks. It comes from his angle of keeping fantasy close to his reality which, in Jack’s mind, pulls it more toward possibility. Unfortunately, the reality that serves as his base, ain’t all that. He’s had a few encounters that introduced fetishes.   Yet google “fetish” and get a list hundreds long. So that’s all Jack; on the low side of fetish experience and a big bucket list containing things (1) that he has done, (2) he has fantasized about, and (3) stuff that he hasn’t even thought of yet. Of course, the big one that all bottom’s have; being used by a man, a stranger, for his calling of that man, regardless of any service to the bottom. Fear of strangers stoked Jack from head to toe.

Continue reading Hidden Detention — Part 01