Tag Archives: Strip Search Hell

A Game of Chance – Part 06

By Robmacz

Shortly after leaving Tom at the Penitentiary, Chris had driven 10 or 15 miles down the road, where he found a post office sitting forlornly on the main street of a tiny rural town.  He jumped out and put the envelope containing the four choices and addressed to Tom at the prison into the box by the car park.  Chris breathed a sigh. There was no way back from this now. His fate was in the hands of Tom. In eight months time he would either be a free man or he would be walking through the gates of the prison he had just left. However much he thought about it, he didn’t know which option Tom would choose. He didn’t think he would choose option A, unless of course he had hooked up with someone inside. But any of the other three options was possible.

Chris had already decided that while he waited to find out his fate he would try to live his life as normal. The only stipulation that his special friend had made was that he should not be away from home for more than a few days, as he would need to keep an eye on his mail, because any order to report would give him no more than two weeks notice.

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A hot, fuckable prisoner gets strip searched

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.

naked male strip earch

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.

male forced nudity

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male rip and strip

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.

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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

Iowa Cowboy – Part 02

By Atlanta Stud

Hogtied on the floor, belly side down and Dave’s sweaty socked big toe had invaded my mouth and along with that some specific instructions as to how part of the rest of the night was going to be spent. After a couple minutes, Dave removed his socked toe from my mouth, took his sock off and placed it right under my nose. The sweat from his feet combined with his leather boots was intoxicating. He bent down near me and began telling me things that I didn’t know this farmboy had been paying attention to over the past semester.

“You see, cowboy, I’ve been paying attention to some things about you this past semester. I’ve noticed that you often wear the same no-show socks with your sneaks several days, even a week at a time without washing them. Even saw you a couple times take a whiff of ’em when you pulled them off, you just didn’t realize that I actually saw you do it. Seems to me, cowboy, that you have a thing for sweaty socks, and feet too I bet.”

With that I shook my head no in trying to convince him he was wrong, but he continued by telling me that it was cool, because he was going to enjoy having his feet taken care of by me all semester long starting with tonight as he reminded me that the ropes weren’t coming off until he was satisfied with my work.

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The Hunting of Spider-gimp

By boyryan54

boyryan54The hunt is on. Gimp is curious who will win…Will it be Master Mike? Master Robert? Or maybe Master John and Master Alex? Or Master Gary? The gimp’s mind darts between each of the men it serves as it ducks between the crowds at the convention. While the gimp desires each Master for their different techniques, it doesn’t want to make it easy for them. The chase can be fun. Gimp’s mind flashed to a few weeks ago.

It was Master Alex’s idea. Let the gimp loose in a large public event, and see which of the Masters can “bag” the gimp. The winner gets to claim the gimp as His full time property, though it is still devoted to the group. Gimp loved the idea. It was high time it moved in with one of the Masters full time and took its training to the next level.

Gimp had spent the last four years while in college training with the group; five Masters who all knew each other and wanted a devoted rubber sub to train and share. Since gimp graduated recently and was without too many attachments, it would be easy for it to move in with a Master. But it was Master Alex who suggested the hunt idea to keep it fair.

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