Prisoners who have committed crimes against the person are of particular interest to the officers. These men have no sense of shame about interfering with another person physically to get their own way. In a way it really is the only language they understand. They have abandoned any notion that you can get what you want any other way. Well two can play that game, and in truth they really have brought this on themselves.
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Almost 90 percent of lags go into prison with the full intention of keeping their heads down and doing their bird. They hope they’ll get early parole and can then, at leisure, plan their next crime. The screws have to identify who is likely to be reformed and who is just faking it for an easy life. One thing a lag cannot fake is his age. Older lads who still wind up in jail on financial charges are very unlikely to change their ways. Both inside and outside the jail…
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By Tommy Guns
Other than my uniforms, I’d never spent a lot of time or money on clothes, and had never given any thought to leather clothing other than a jacket. I was intrigued and wondered how they would fit and feel. The smell of the leather was at once intoxicating and arousing. When I pulled on the shorts that were like running shorts, the feel of the raw leather against my skin was simply delightful and sexy at the same time. My hard on came back with a vigor, barely contained by the tightness of the leather shorts that pushed my cock off to the side.
They put enough pressure on my balls that it felt like they were being gently crushed – not painful exactly, but I knew I needed to calm down before I came in the shorts. It’s the same reaction I had the first time I had put on my Dress Blues after graduation from boot camp. If you haven’t experienced the sensation, no explanation is possible. If you have, none is necessary! The shorts did have an interesting feature – a zipper that ran from the front, down under the crotch, and all the way back up the ass to about an inch of the waist band. I immediately saw the convenience of this arrangement and thought whoever invented it was a genius. You could have sex without undressing – cool!
There have been reports of drones flying 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 strip searches will become more common as a result of drone activity. The someone has to be an alpha on the wing or it won’t work. The warders choose someone who is respected, has more to lose by kicking up a fuss than going along with it, and who is likely to have something on him. In this case its this stoic green eyed Irishman…
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By Greg Alexander
Trevor walked into Dirty Nick’s, sat down at the bar, and ordered a Guinness. Dirty Nick’s was a favorite for the boys of Delta Psi — for one thing because it was right down the street from the frat house, and for another because the owner was a former frat boy, which meant that guys like Trevor never got carded. Granted, Trevor had a fake, like everyone at Delta Psi. And anyway, he was coming up on 21 in a matter of months — he was old for his year. But it was good not to get carded.
Trevor spotted his group of friends sitting at one of the tables in the corner. They were all Delta Psi brothers, except for one or two dudes on the crew team. It wasn’t that Trevor had any particular problem hanging out with guys who weren’t in the frat, or on one of his teams, every now and then, but he found most of the guys at school to be tools, wusses, douche bags, or probably a little gay. The brothers of Delta Psi were the one exception — everyone one of them was a real bro, someone Trevor felt like he could chill with.
At StripSearchHell, it’s comical that he still thinks that obeying the rules is beneath him. He’s been in clink for 2 weeks, and this muscular hairy fuck hasn’t realised that it doesn’t matter what he thinks. It doesn’t matter that he was once the big man. In here, he is a little bitch that got caught and now his body is the plaything of the guards. I bet he thinks they are too stupid to even look at him naked, much less touch his ass. Maybe he’s right, but that’s the rub when you’re thrown in jail, big man!
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By lthr_jock
Vickers was ticked off. No, scratch that, Vickers was angry. Angry at Clark, angry at Carl and Greg – but most of all, angry at himself. It started from the moment at the party when he realised that the hunky man secured in the straitjacket and muzzle was actually Clark. He had dreamed of getting Clark in that kind of position, but had been moving things forward slowly, carefully. But Greg and Carl had got Clark into the gear within just a few hours. Vickers had enjoyed getting Carl restrained inside the vac rack, but all that day his attention kept getting drawn across the aisle to Clark. The sight of his body in the tight leather harness with his arms locked behind him distracted him, aroused him – and made him jealous as hell.
After the conference, Vickers continued talking to Clark by email and text and monitoring Clark’s workouts. It was clear the man was still working hard at the gym, though his measurements had stabilised and he seemed to be improving definition rather than just putting on bulk. Vickers had several thoughts about where to go next, but whenever he broached ideas with Clark, Clark seemed distracted and gave brusque off-hand replies. Vickers also noted that he was curious about Greg and Carl and the conversation often returned to them.
The last straw came when Greg and Carl invited him to their latest open house to display their latest creations. Their venue was in an abandoned warehouse, and the main showroom was circular and high-ceilinged. High on the walls were video screens, and on this occasion they were showing slideshows of men wearing various items of leather wear. Vickers grabbed a drink and wandered around. As usual, their gear was high quality and piqued his interest – but tonight his attention kept getting drawn back to the video screens. Despite the fact that the leather being worn kept changing, the model looked the same. The photos never showed his face, but as he looked on Vickers realised that they were all photos of Clark. This was confirmed by the last set where he was wearing a leather version of his guard uniform. Vickers felt his cock swell and gulped down his drink as his jealousy spiked.
The prison psychologist is going to have a field day with this bastard. I mean, look at his large, over-filled balls. This fucker is high on testosterone and an urgent need to cum 24/7. Yet he’s been given the tiniest fucking dick in the prison. He’s going to be a fucking laughingstock when the other crims get a gander at what he’s got between his legs. Which is why I reckon the shrinks will put 2 and 2 together and figure out why he was attracted to dealing in weapons!
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