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Prisoners are a mixed bunch when it comes to how clean they keep themselves. A few won’t be seen out of their cells without their looking their best, when others are stinking bunch of mean little fuckers. Lads who stink have been known to cause riots! A case in point is this vicious brute – he’s been sent down for something unsavoury but his biggest offence is that committed against everyone’s sense of smell, so feel a little sympathy for the poor screws who have to get this fella to bend over and spread open his odorous arsehole.
See more like this at Strip Search Hell – new updates every Wednesday
This is from Strip Search Hell. There have been reports of guys over the wall throwing contraband into the jail, but, in a surprise to no one, endless searches of cells have turned up nothing. The first recourse is to make an example of someone and let it be known that nude searches will become more common as a result of this activity.
That the “someone” is the most fuckable guy on the wing doesn’t make a difference. The warders choose someone who is desired by others and has more to lose by kicking up a fuss than going along with the intrusive search. This prisoner is no stranger to being strip searched, but this time he is far too clever to be provoked by an intimate body search. Not that the screws don’t go to town making this as humiliating as possible.
See more at Strip Search Hell – new updates every Wednesday
By ty dehner
It is so fucking quiet; I can only hear my breathing. Seems I am so alone, no one around for miles. This is hard work and my gear is pretty soaked in sweat. I’m tired as shit, Sir is the toughest boss I’ve ever worked for. But the rewards are fucking awesome in the end.
The crew has left for the day, as I see Sir heading down the gravel road in his truck to pick me up. He really gave me the shit job today, literally. Cleaning outhouses is not the glamour job in construction, but as a pad pig, it is my job. Once every two weeks. There are 20 across the sites that Sir oversees. It is amazing how messy these guys are, though I admit I get a little horny thinking of them in their Carhartt’s, boots, jeans and muddy work overalls doing their business in these outhouses. When I work in these I have to wear rubber gloves and gas mask that Sir requires I wear while cleaning. The guys on the crew think I’m nuts for wearing it, but it is required, and I do it. I think Sir has me do it, because it humiliates me some and he likes that on occasion.
This week I’m in my black Carhartt overalls with, of course, my football pants and cup, with my uniform jersey on underneath. Even though it was warm out, I am required to keep my flannel shirt and Carhartt coat on, as well as work gloves. I’m still breaking in my new White’s lace up boots. Sir had them custom done with a small leather strap at the top that locks the boots on. My work uniform is finished off by a Packer’s cap that Sir soaked in his piss before letting it dry. On days that I work hard or am wearing the gas mask my sweat mixes with the dried piss and I do begin to smell!
Continue reading Over the Line – Part 3: Third Down
By Mature Captive
“You have too much freedom.” He was always stronger than me. Bigger too, and his cock… Well let’s just say there’s good reason we call him “the Python.” And a couple decades younger too; so even while I was training him, I always knew and hoped someday he would come to dominate me. Deep down I wanted it too. So, as I slowly taught him all the dark arts of sadomasochism, I was just waiting for the day when he realized it for himself.
“Way too much freedom.” My heart thrilled and my cock stiffened at his words, but I remained silent. Bound helplessly as I was, already stretched out on the bondage bed, well gagged and hooded, there wasn’t much I could say or do. He was in charge, and supposedly this was to be another of our casual morning training sessions. But knowing him as well as I do, I could almost see the light go on in his brain.
Continue reading Awakening (short story)
Note: ‘The Roommate’ originally appeared on the RubberZone site. It is re-posted here with permission.
The command sounded so familiar. It was only Tuesday, Matt’s second day at work since the arrival of his roommate the previous Saturday, and yet it seemed as though he’d heard the command a thousand times before. Of course, he had, but recorded on all prior occasions but one, burned into his subconscious by repetitive recordings instructing Matt on the proper response to each of the many commands he could expect to hear from now on. Hour after hour had been spent by Matt, strapped down or suspended, stuffed into tight rubber bondage, his holes plugged and controlled, aware of little else but the tight rubber bondage and the voice of his new roommate, and not quite understanding the gradual impact that the repeated commands were having on his willpower.
Twenty-four hours earlier, the command had struck fear and anger in Matt’s heart and mind as he wrestled with the related instructions to shave his head, go to work and then return for more bondage abuse and storage at the end of the day. But today, the command exploded in Matt’s mind like a starter’s pistol announcing a race. Matt had already learned the previous day that his shaved head was no big deal at the refinery, and no one had even seemed bothered by the open collared shirt showing off his shaved chest, or, if anyone noticed, even the lack of underwear under his thin slacks. Matt had learned, to his great relief, that even with a shaved body and tight fitting clothing he was still as invisible as ever – a wallflower who could go about his day without attracting attention, without attracting scorn.
Continue reading The Roommate – Part 5