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A Left Turn at Albuquerque Continued – Part 01

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By Hunter Perez

NOTE: This is a sequel! To read the first series, click here

So, how is life mistreating me? Funny that I should ask. Since we last connected, there has been bad news and sort of bad news.

The bad news is that the warden fell in love with Holmgren’s idea of getting the local saloon keeper to pay for his son Zeb’s education while he was incarcerated. As you may recall, Zeb is illiterate, and his dad wants him to take over the saloon business – which is a tad difficult when you can’t read the liquor bottle labels. According to Holmgren, the warden thought the idea was so brilliant that he insisted on a 70 percent to 30 percent split of the “tuition” – the warden, of course, taking the bigger cut. With this scheme, the plan to have my sentence commuted was put on the proverbial back burner – although I fear it will bypass the back burner and go straight into the trash can if the saloon keeper agrees to it.

The sort of bad news was the delay in getting the saloon keeper’s approval – he was called out of town for at least two weeks, thus delaying the finality of whether I would be trapped in prison (if he approved) or set free (if he disapproved). Without a firm answer, I was stuck in limbo – or, to be more precise, the spruced-up solitary confinement cell that was supposed to be a temporary residence on my road to liberty.

Continue reading A Left Turn at Albuquerque Continued – Part 01 →

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Nate – Part 01

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By slavebladeboi

With thanks to POW for his editing skills and the many suggestions that inspired this story.

Nate made sure the door of his bedroom was locked before he stood naked, facing the window. There was no one else home, but it made him feel safe both mentally and physically. The windowsill was level with his hips, and the slats of the blind were at an angle that allowed him to see out without being seen. It was a position he’d taken up several times when he noticed that the new neighbour was out and about, either tending to the front garden of his house, directly opposite the house Nate shared with two other college guys, or washing his car or all the other small jobs that needed taking care of when the weather was warm and the sun out.

This time the neighbour, a guy who was obviously in his thirties and looked to be in perfect shape to 20-year-old Nate, well-built and wearing only some skimpy shorts, was washing his car on the drive. It was a 1970 Corvette Stingray, deep blue and perfect. Any reasonable young male, in fact any man of any age, would have made some excuse to stop by and compliment the guy on his choice of vehicle, but Nate wasn’t so forthright. He preferred to stay hidden and watch from a distance. Another reason for his reluctance to make an appearance was that locked around his right wrist was one half of a handcuff, the other half locked tightly round his cock and balls, thus leaving his left hand free to play with his nips as he wanked furiously, gazing at the bronzed body sweating in the heat of the afternoon sun, wiping the odd spray of soap suds and water off his body.

Continue reading Nate – Part 01 →

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Can Dreams Come True? Part 2

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By Shket36

With English-language editing by Joshua Ryan

To say that I was worried would be an understatement, but again Nikolai found words to calm me down.  Then, after I shaved my face and head, he told me to dress up in my prison clothes.  For the first time, I had to put on a convict uniform with a badge — a badge with my photograph and convict number, but not my first name or my last.  From then on I would be a number.  When I had buttoned myself into my uniform and put my badge in place, Nikolai turned me to face the wall and ordered me to present my hands so he could put the guard cuffs on me.  These bracelets have a rigid hinge that prevents the prisoner from twisting his hands to find a more comfortable position.

Once my restraints were attached, Nikolai took me by the left arm near the shoulder, led me to the official car for escorting detainees, and put me in a special compartment–simply put, a cage, where I had to ride with my hands securely cuffed for several hours.  We were headed to the train station.

Continue reading Can Dreams Come True? Part 2 →

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A Left Turn at Albuquerque – Part 17

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By Hunter Perez

(The final chapter to the story)

It was dark by the time Patterson came scurrying across the courtyard with a bright lantern in one hand and an oversized ring packed with keys in the other. He was huffing and puffing in tremendous movements and paused for a minute at the base of the pillory to catch his breath. I feared he would collapse before ending my imprisonment, but he caught his second wind and quickly freed me. He asked about my physical well-being before handing me a small silver flask which he said contained brandy.

“Strictly for medicinal purposes, of course,” he added. “You never catch a cold with brandy.”

Patterson was apologetic that he did not arrive earlier, explaining that an emergency arose within the prison that required all on-duty guards. In our walk back to the cottage, Patterson provided an excruciatingly in-depth recollection of the emergency, giving violently graphic details to the bloodied injuries that several brawling prisoners inflicted on each other. By the time we reached the fence outside of the cottage, Patterson exhausted his gory story and paused for healthy sip of his “medicinal” brandy with the assurance that it helps rebuild strength and courage.

Continue reading A Left Turn at Albuquerque – Part 17 →

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A Left Turn at Albuquerque – Part 14

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By Hunter Perez

Holmgren slowly lifted the glass from the desk and vigorously sipped its whiskey content, keeping his foul gaze at me while he consumed the drink. I stood at door and tried to consider how I would respond to this new predicament.

I assumed I would be facing an evening’s worth of abuse – certainly verbal and probably physical. Having my wrists tightly handcuffed behind my back offered a painful reminder of who was the alpha in this encounter. If Holmgren was drunk or on the verge of inebriation, then I didn’t know what to expect – he was erratic while sober, and whiskey would certainly make a crazy situation worse. Patterson’s behavior outside of the room only preyed on my apprehension – how many other prisoners came before me to experience Holmgren’s whiskey-soaked wrath?

Continue reading A Left Turn at Albuquerque – Part 14 →

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A Left Turn at Albuquerque – Part 03

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By Hunter Perez

“Are you comfortable back there?” Nicky asked through the mesh separating the front of the police car from the back.

“Not really,” I responded. “I assume I’m not supposed to be.”

“You got that right,” he laughed.

I wasn’t quite certain how I should be feeling. Sitting with arms handcuffed behind your back creates a multiple number of issues, which are not helped by being nearly immobilized with a tight seatbelt. I kept shifting sideways and trying to inch forward, but I could never find the right position where I didn’t feel pressure in some part of my body.

Part of me was angry at the stupidity of thinking with my dick – whatever pleasure that was sparked by allowing myself to be handcuffed was erased by the discomfort of my inability to get into a relaxed position.

Yet at the same time, part of me was aroused by the absurdity of the situation. Nicky turned into a truly gorgeous specimen of masculinity, made all the more exciting by his law enforcement authority. Being his prisoner, if only for a brief period of amusement, created a sense of excitement that was truly arousing – perhaps too arousing, as I was also dealing with an erection pushing against my jeans.

I remembered the time back in college when Nicky had me handcuff him so he could service me while I controlled him. I wondered if that was what he had in mind by turning tables in this manner. I then began to recall some stories I read by the writer Joshua Ryan where guys get tricked by sexy cops and correctional officers into getting arrested and sent to prison – those stories seemed so wild in concept, but now I could see how someone could fall victim to such chicanery.

Continue reading A Left Turn at Albuquerque – Part 03 →