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Forced to strip in jail and prison

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Forced to strip in jail and prison

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.

Lads who stink have been known to cause riots

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Strip searched in jail

When a hard man is presented at prison reception, the officers find it difficult to contain their glee. The tough guy is in the worst place to kick off. He’s just been handed a sentence and the last thing he wants now is to be sent back to the judge to add more time. He’s conflicted because he needs maintain his ego. The officers have carte blanche to take the piss out of him. So guess what they do?!

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Bondage in 2020 Cell Without Bars – Part 07

By felon

Apparently the discussion outside the door concerned me. It seems my status as a felon slave was being moved quickly into some level of complete ownership. This would be more than a weekend session. From what I could determine, and what I had already suspected, these men were more concerned about the mental and physical aspect of control than appearance, age, etc. And they had done their homework, checking into my finances, lifestyle, earnings, savings and lack of family. I would be the perfect project for their Prison Group.

They entered the room I was being kept in and removed my leather gag. It seems there would finally be some kind of communication. I was in a very vulnerable situation, naked, gaged, ass plugged. I was removed from the table and forced up against the concrete block wall. I was photographed by cell phone camera from all sides, all angles, naked of course. It was then I noticed two ceiling-mounted cameras in the room. So it would be safe to say that others might be involved in this action in the mountains of West Virginia. Close-up pics were taken of my wrist tat and leg tat. I was handed a sign to hold for the cell camera with my ID – PA6404.

Continue reading Bondage in 2020 Cell Without Bars – Part 07

Show us your ripe asshole, convict

The prison gym is the place for the hard men of the prison. They want to keep their muscles impressively large and intimidating, both inside and for when they get back onto civie street. The testosterone-filled weights room is where the prisoners have no choice but to brag and bluster about how tough they are. This muscled prisoner has made the mistake of saying his arse is untouchable within earshot of the officers. He knows that if they want to, any screw in the place could order him to display his arsehole and he’d have no choice. So in the prison gardens they demand a full strip and, owing to other inmate being present, he kicks off…

prison strip search

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12 Hours

By Practicerestraint

All is true.—Shakespeare, Henry VIII


10:20 p.m.

The text message read: You have two minutes to get dressed and be ready. Unlock the front door.


10:25 p.m.

I was brushing my teeth when I heard the noise at the front door. Then I heard, “Police! Announce yourself!”

It’s hard to announce yourself with a mouthful of toothpaste. I spit, rinsed, and moved from the bathroom to the bedroom as the officer repeated himself and I called out, “I’m here.”

“Come out here!”

I walked into the dark hall to see a flashlight and a gun pointed at me. The officer’s specific words after that escape me. They were nonstop directions that ended only when I was lying face down on the carpet at the end of the hall, arms out to the sides, palms up. The officer knelt, grabbed my left wrist, pulled my arm to the middle of my back, and applied the handcuffs. After he brought my right hand back to complete the job, I realized he had my palms facing out. He instructed me to stand, providing assistance as I did. He grabbed my left arm and led me out the door.

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What the Fuck? – Part 2

By convict 975468

He came again.

I heard him on the stairs, and stood as I had been told before he reached the top.

He approached and with an evil glint in his eye, he again placed his finger across his lips indicating quiet.

He didn’t need to, I was acutely aware of the rule. I had been worried all morning that I might somehow piss him off and not be fed. I was fully resolved to do whatever I could to please him. He held a mighty weapon with my hunger.

He walked up to me stopping about a foot away, staring into my eyes for what seemed a year. Then he slowly walked around me, stepping over the chain, and stopped facing me again.

I must have turned a bright shade of red, as I flushed from the humiliation. He had no fear! I was his – he owned me. Now, I knew it too.

He stepped closer. I could feel his breath on my face.

“You are doing well.” He smiled.

“Once I give you permission to move, you may request to speak. You will do so by raising your right arm, and pointing upward with your index finger. Do it now.”

Continue reading What the Fuck? – Part 2