Tag Archives: Tommy Guns

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Brig Story – Part 01

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By Tommy Guns

I remember it as if it was yesterday. It was Tuesday, May 11th, 1971, the day I woke up in the Brig, my hands and legs tightly shackled to the bars at the head and foot of the rack on which I was laying. Most of all, I remember the smells. I was laying in my own waste, dried blood and vomit staining my ripped uniform blouse, and a tear at the knee on the left leg of my uniform trousers. There were the smells of despair and hopelessness, and the scent of cold, hard, oily steel, mixed with way too much pine cleaner.

But I still don’t remember much of the three days that preceded that May 11th, or what had brought me to that place, on that memorable day, in the disreputable state I was in. But I do remember what happened after my rude awakening by the sound of a nightstick being banged against the solid steel door of my cell.

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Billy and Me – Part 6

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By Tommy Guns

Because I was so tired from the previous night’s action, it wasn’t long before I drifted off into a restless sleep. I woke up several times with residual pain in my ass, and a desperate need to take a dump and a whiz. I don’t know how long I was out, but it must have been several hours. It was completely dark in the bedroom the first time I awoke. My best guess is that I had been locked in the stocks for about eight hours. I thought, indeed hoped, that Richie would be back soon, but he didn’t come back until just after I saw light creeping through the curtains on the bedroom window. I realized I’d been in the stocks for at least 18 hours.

I had long given up any idea of being able to hold off relieving my bladder, and I just pissed into the cod jock and let it flow wherever gravity would take it. I would have taken a dump if I could, and tried to force the butt plug out at least a little to allow the release of some built up gas and shit. But it was too firmly planted and I was really beginning to experience severe spasms of pain in my gut. To make matters worse, there had been quite a bit of seepage around the butt plug. I could feel and smell the odor of dried shit on both of my inner thighs. There was absolutely nothing erotic about my situation, just the sense of hopelessness, along with a total and inescapable loss of control.

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Billy and Me – Part 5

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By Tommy Guns

When Richie came back out he was dressed in what looked like a full leather uniform, complete with Sam Browne belt. He was carrying a heavy looking but short leather sap in his right hand. He came over to me and brought the sap down on my left butt cheek with a sharp crack that sent a pain through me like a bolt of lightening. I let out a muffled scream through the gag, and saw him raising the sap again to take another shot.

This brought an involuntary response of me trying to jerk away from it, but this only sent more pain coursing through my ankles, wrists and shoulders. It didn’t matter what I did. There was no escaping the sap, and he whacked me with it again. This was clearly getting a bit out of hand, but there was nothing I could do about it. For the first time in a long time, I felt fear and total helplessness. At the same time I was beginning to become aroused again. I don’t know if my arousal was from the pain or helplessness, or from the sight of this gorgeous man, decked out in skin tight leathers, who had complete control over me.

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Billy and Me – Part 4

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By Tommy Guns

 I think Billy needed to be completely in charge of my life, and wanted to expand my experiences to the maximum. He once told me a story of a prisoner he had abused in the Brig. The guy was awaiting a General Court Martial for desertion, and was being held in maximum security with little or no contact with other prisoners. Billy took advantage of the situation by offering favors and extra privileges in exchange for sexual activity that included bondage, toys and, eventually, a gang rape involving other guards and prisoners.

He described it in such detail, and became so aroused with each telling, that I soon decided that it might be worth experimenting a little more, and expand my horizons.

I asked Billy to introduce one of his friends to our scenes just to see how it would go down, and whether it was something I wanted to get into on a more regular basis. Quite frankly, part of me realized that unless I was willing to get more deeply into bondage and group scenes that I would eventually lose Billy. That was not a chance I was willing to take.

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Billy and Me – Part 3

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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!

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Billy and Me – Part 2

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By Tommy Guns

When Billy reported to Camp Lejeune he was assigned to the Provost Marshal’s office, and later became the NCOIC of the Brig. By this time, we were both Staff NCOs, and there just weren’t that many peacetime billets for us after Vietnam wound down. Either of us was capable of sniping a target with the proverbial ‘one shot, one kill’ accuracy at more than 750 meters, but there wasn’t much call for trained snipers at that time in either the Corps or civilian life, unless you wanted to apply for a job with the mob! As a result, our duty billets were more mundane. He wound up being an MP, and I trained young Marines in advanced marksmanship. To say we both missed the action of Vietnam would be a gross understatement. Quite frankly we were BORED, and I guess that’s why Billy got more deeply into the leather and bondage scene. God knows, as the NCOIC of the Brig, he had plenty of time and potential victims to hone his craft. But I digress.

We entered Billy’s apartment, literally tearing at each other’s clothes. I was so turned on by him in leather that I couldn’t wait to get his cock in my mouth and wanted to suck it until his head caved in. This time, however, Billy played rougher than before. Just as I was getting into a face fucking rhythm, Billy pushed me off his cock and threw me roughly down on his carpeted floor.

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Billy and Me – Part 1

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By Tommy Guns

I was on my daily run, wearing nothing but a pair of red nylon jogging shorts and tennis shoes, when a panel van first passed me and then turned abruptly to block my path. Two guys jumped out of the side door and tackled me. They forced me to the ground and handcuffed my wrists behind my back. I tried to kick out at them, but they quickly snapped a set of short chain leg irons on my ankles.

They then lifted me roughly shoved me into the van. Next they forced a penis shaped rubber gag into my mouth, fastening it with a strap behind my neck. A leather hood was pulled over my head and was laced tightly behind it, and a locking collar was fastened over it to keep it in place. They then forced me on to my stomach and attached a short chain from the leg irons to the chain between the handcuffs. The final assault was when they cut off my shorts and shoved what I could only guess was a huge butt plug up my ass I would have gasped out a scream of incredible pain, but all that escaped my gag was a muffled and unintelligible sort of grunt. I was hogtied and could neither speak nor move a muscle, and my asshole was on fire. Resistance was futile.

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