Fiction: Disappeared Cop #6

Returning to the playroom my pet was still sleeping restfully face down where I’d left him on the wet room floor, his broad shoulders tapering down to his narrow waist and his back emblazoned with an eagle tattoo. Perhaps this boy was ex military prior to his law enforcement service as I’d suspected.

I was still in the full leather uniform I had worn earlier, with my boots reasonably gleaming by his forced tongue. There was still time before the drugs wore off, and then he’d be focusing on another aspect of training.

I laid the full rubber sleepsack down on the ground next to him. Moving him around fully enclosed would be easier but I had concerns if the tight rubber would even stretch over his muscled torso. I checked for pain stimuli response and there was none – still out cold.

Taking the key from my belt, I rolled him over and unlocked the heavy shock collar and ankle chains. Wearing just the metal seed pod, my cock was again hard at the alluring sight. My pet was indeed a beautiful piece of meat to train and the depths of his hole were perfect. I think I already preferred him when he resisted and struggled.

Even for someone who considers himself fit, rolling over this stud to line up with my rubber sack was a challenge of my strength when moving such a ‘dead weight’. I took a hold of his ankle, slipped it into the bottom of the sack, and then lift/dragged his muscled torso on top of the sack. I bent his other leg, and enclosed it in the bottom of the sack securely ready for imprisonment.

Kneeling behind his torso, I took one bruised wrist and attempted to feed it into one sleeve of the sack. I could already feel the sweat of the exertion starting to form under the leather of my uniform shirt. Fortunately, even the heavy grade rubber of the sack was fairly easy to manipulate, which meant I could shake his wrist down into the sleeve and finally enclose his large biceps and triceps. The smell of warm rubber and previous occupants now filling my nose. Stretching the rubber up and over his shoulders, the other wrist and arm were next. This one seemed to slide in easier.

Standing back up and taking a breath, I looked down at my handiwork, the slave now partially enclosed and lined up for more total control with the closure of the full length zip. Lining up the bottom of the double zip I slowly fastened the zip up his muscled legs, the rubber bulging over his quads and up to his narrow waist and seed pod, full of frustration. Leaving the seed pod suitably still exposed, I then fastened the upper part of the sack. The waist was easy, but as his shoulders widened, the rubber became increasingly tight, but with some brute force and persuasion, finally the sack closed up to his neck.

Next, I pulled tight the circular belts around the sack in turn around the ankles, knees, thighs, forearms and chest and buckled them closed. This muscle cop slave was almost completely encapsulated in tight and inescapable rubber but there was still more to teach him this afternoon’s humiliation and training.

I put an audio earbud into each of his ears, and taking an eyeless heavy rubber discipline helmet, I squeezed the nose tubes and fed them into one nostril, followed by the other. This was something I was well practiced at; this dog was just a little bigger than I was used to. The nose tubes pushed easily into position and as the last inch of the tubes passed down his nose, I also opened his still unconscious mouth and pushed the hollow cock gag into place. Satisfied that air was flowing and everything was aligned, I quickly fastened the zip down the rear of the hood, and fastened the five additional buckles sealing him into controlled darkness, adding a padlock at the collar.

My new muscle slave was now a fully rubberised object for my further use. Soon enough there would be stirring and he’d discover his fresh new hell. The rubber was thick enough that there was no way even a muscle bull like this would be able to free himself. I sat and removed my uniform leather shirt and armband, not realising how warm the effort had made me. I took long swigs of the cool bottle of water I’d brought, and pulled a cigar out my uniform jacket and lit up.

Inhaling the strong smoke, I savoured the relaxation after the effort, and idly stroked my chest and tits. Blowing clouds of smoke into the air, I wondered how long it would be before my pet was ready for more training. Even sacked as he was, he wasn’t yet permitted away from the playroom / cell area, but I wanted somewhere comfortable to monitor his initial panic and continue his programming.

I half dragged, half lifted the well filled sleepsack onto a low gurney, adding further restraint straps, and unlocked the cell door with the lock and code. Wheeling the gurney down the corridor, and entering more codes and unlocking doors, I rolled it into one of the other underground rooms; which at least had comfortable seating and a large TV.

I released how hungry was and after checking my pet was safely strapped to the gurney no matter how much he struggled in the sack, I relocked the room and returned upstairs to the kitchen to fix myself a meal of steak, fries, cheese and eggs. I also prepared a large batch of protein drink, and dosed it with the appropriate sedative, and large bottle of cool water. Back in full leather uniform again, I took my meal and supplies, and returned to the playroom level.

The first thing which hit me on entering the room was the scent and sound of rubber creaking.

Inside the rubber cocoon, my sex object was now clearly awake and using every muscle he could to test his new form of confinement. He’d have come round realising that his mouth was being invaded, his head was covered in something, and he was unable to hear or breath normally. Then further realising his movement was completely limited and he was completely powerless.

My cock sprung to attention again inside its leather codpiece, and I reached down and stroked it, enjoying every one of his futile writhings. The sleepsack was more than capable of keeping even this muscle jock secured, especially with the added belts securing him inside and also strapping him to the gurney.

In his fully gagged, hooded and earplugged state, he’d have no awareness that his tormenter was even in the room; but his muscles struggling and testing the tight inescapable rubber would have been increasing the temperature inside the sack and the sweat starting to build. Eventually the struggling would end, when he realised escape was completely impossible and every aspect of his existence was being controlled.

I turned on the MP3 player attached to the earbuds – playing a very specific set of looped delta frequencies with a hypnotic programming track to condition my new slave’s mind to enjoy being an owned object with the only purpose to serve; and BDSM keywords and gay sex sounds. I’d use this consistently until the programming was evident and the resistance became less.

I snapped off the front of my black leather codpiece and again enjoyed stroking the length of my hard cock, moistness covering the purple head and a fresh pool of precum building on the tip. This boy was certainly hitting all my buttons in the right places; and every struggle he made caused my cock to pulse. Soon enough there was going to be another load released; but there was more training needed first. I edged myself while he continued to struggle in vain but eventually the effort and realisation must have led to acceptance he was an object for his master’s use in whatever way he wanted, and further resistance was futile.

When all was still, I patted the front of the sack, and ran my hand down the length until it reached the exposed seed pod. He visibly jumped and again there was loud moaning into the hollow gag forcing his mouth open; and I could see muscles struggling against the completely inescapable bondage sack.

I removed the padlock and unscrewed the hex lock, unhinging the device to reveal his cut cock and big low hanging bull balls strapped into the metal prison. Whether it was the drugs I’d force fed or his current situation his cock was clearly straining against the leather strap holding it inside the chastity device. I cupped his balls, pulled and squeezed them and was rewarded by load muffled groans from the hood. Unstrapping the leather I released the full length of his cock which immediately sprang to attention from the confinement leaving a sticky thread.

For the second time it seemed that this extreme confinement and control was arousing this muscle stud and making him desperate to unload his seed. I had no intention of letting his happen; if ever again. None the less my black leather gloved hand grasped his fully hard cock and stroked it from the case to the shaft with increasing speed until I could hear his moans into the gag and his breathing increase, precum now leaking down the length of his cock and lubricating my glove. I was skilled enough to not let him get what his primal urges wanted.

Moving back I left him unfulfilled and gyrating his hips against the inescapable restraint in a desperate attempt to bring himself to completion. I laid all I would need on the gurney. If he was moaning from his forced stimulation and edging, he’d moan and struggle even louder if his vision allowed him to see what I intended to humiliate him next.

Cleaning the edge of his now hard and moist cock, I put on my sterile rubber gloves, squirted some lube into his cock, and started edging a rubber Foley catheter down the length of his cock. There were moans into the gag at the invader inched its way inside his rock hard member, but it quickly progressed deeper and deeper and into his bladder, and I injected the sterile water to fix it in place. Hooking up a collection bag, I unclamped the flow and observed this complete control I now had over him, and also how the dark liquid flowing into the bag showed he needed hydration.

Hooking up an IV stand I screwed a plastic feeding tube onto one of the animal feeding bottles and poured in the sedative protein drink mixture I’d prepared earlier. Next was connecting the feeding tube to the pig’s hollow gag and hanging the bottle and observing the thick white liquid start flowing down the tube. The flow rate looked perfect as it reached the gag and poured inside.

I grasped the air tubes of the isolation hood my pig was enclosed within to further remind him he had no control over his environment, and felt the rubber hoses contract through the desperate attempt to draw air. I enjoyed seeing the wild attempts at struggling against the tightly buckled sleepsack his muscular torso trying to lift away from the gurney. The added straps meant only limited movement was possible despite his vigour. I turned up the programming MP3 further, and soon he’d realise that to swallow what he was fed would be rewarded by air.

The heat inside the sack and the new exertion meant I didn’t have to wait more than a few seconds to see his throat convulse and the first of the vanilla liquid be accepted. The hollow gag extended into his mouth enough to keep it permanently open, but not so far as to trigger a gag reflex. There was a far longer solid gag for that later. Reopening the air hoses, he was given his reward. The vanilla protein drink didn’t taste that bad and I was sure this muscle boy had drunk his share of protein powders in his time. In less than 15 minutes, he’d sucked down the liquid.

I stroked my still exposed cock and again enjoyed the scene of this fully restrained musclecop under my training. I was once again in the mood to force invade his tight pink hole, but the sleepsack position wouldn’t allow such access. Precum was moistening my swollen purple cock head, and once again I was fully erect and ready for action.

Unhooking the feeding bottle, this phase of his initial training meant no precious liquids were going to be wasted. The only drawback being that in his tightly hooded and sensory deprived state, the visual shock of what was being forced on him next was lost. Still, there would be plenty of time for that later.

Adding some lube in my turned on state, I slowly held the base of my cock and stroked the length of it to the tip, tickling around the glans. Slowly edging myself the smell of leather, rubber and sweat already meant I was close to unloading my seed. My gloved hand palmed the tip of the head and worked the glans even more and at the same moment my captive meat decided to start another futile struggle against the tight rubber sleepsack. With one hand, I again clamped shut the breathing tubes of the hood, and with the other returned to stroking the full length of my meat.

While he once again sucked against the breathing tubes for any remaining oxygen and struggled against the sack, I felt the familiar feeling of my balls tightening, and my hot seed spurt from the head, only for every drop to be collected by the feeding bottle. As my breathing reached its peak and then started to slow, I continued to hold the tubes shut until the struggling subsided and all was still.

Unclamping the tubes and letting the air flow again, he’d soon regain consciousness in a state of complete panic in his sealed in state. While he would have been hot and sweaty sealed in, the sedatives would kick in before long and his total enclosure training wasn’t over yet and he still had too much fight.

Dumping the contents of earlier exertion into the bottle, I held my now reducing cock and concentrated on releasing my now full bladder into the same target. The warm straw liquid trickled and then streamed into the bottle, diluting the existing contents. When done, I again hung the bottle from the IV stand, and clamped it off.

My slave meat’s catheterised cock was soft now from his exertion and unconsciousness, but once again, it was time to tease my boy to the point of begging. My gloved hand played with his big bull balls which were still loose within the unlocked seed pod chastity device. Again he was fully present when his cock twitched and started once again hardening from the stimulation. Stroking from the base up the length of it to the head it quickly spring to full attention and moaning came through the gag.

Of course there would be no happy ending; but this was about playing with his head and programming him.

As I continued the stimulation his hips buckled up against the restraints to get extra stimulation against my hand. I increased the pressure and rate, and toyed with his pink cock head, with its forcibly inserted invader. His breathing rate increased, as did the moaning; but I backed down as I felt he was getting too much pleasure. There were whimpers from the confines of the gag and heavy hood.

I unclamped the IV line and let the warm liquid flow into the hollow gag.

As the liquid flowed down into the gag and his throat, he probably didn’t realise that it was his masters seed and liquid he was being trained to drink. The taste would have been unfamiliar, but perhaps the warmth would have been the giveaway. No persuasion was necessary this time, as I saw the throat convulse and the liquid be taken.

With his relaxed and sedated state, it was likely that he’d be dozing soon. He was to stay in the sack but periodically I’d wake him and feed him some more liquids until the output from his catheter was lighter. I made sure the room was warm enough, and draped a blanket over the sack. When the sweat cooled I didn’t want my pig with hyperthermia after all. After all.. tomorrow was bar night…

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Fiction: Fringe Division #3 - Transport

In my restrained state, it was difficult to appreciate how much time was passing during this journey to the ‘job center’ which the two arresting officers had discussed.  The expert tightening of the straight jacket meant I was completely restricted – but it was comfortable enough.  The gag which was stuffing my mouth was doing an effective job, but wasn’t causing me problems in breathing, and I didn’t want to risk the same treatment the hot looking skinhead in the next cell had received with his resistance.  So far, my ‘assessment’ seemed to have been an attempt to see how horny two musclestud leathermen could get me, and the line between my professional life and what I may have decided to enjoy in my spare time was becoming blurred.  Certainly I was in no position to be attempting my original mission with Fringe Division.

Truth be told, I was starting to enjoy this.

Many employees who work in the defence and homeland security field worry too much about their private lives.  I always found being honest and up front was always the best policy – and this advice had served me well.  Work knew that when not on the clock, I had a wide range of sexual interests, and was often to be found in the local leather bar.  So long as it couldn’t be used to blackmail or exhort undue influence, it wasn’t going to cause problems.

I’d not been in a relationship for a few years – career just seemed to be taking over my life. 

The last guy I was involved with was someone connected with work.  The chance circumstances we met under were still fresh in my head…  Following a security alert (specifically a bomb) in another government building, and uncertain the risk had passed, we initiated property and person searches of all persons entering and leaving the building – without exception.  He was one of the response team.

Despite my ID, firearm and cuffs, not even I was immune to the searches.  Queuing for entry to the building, showing my ID, and taking my property out to X-ray, I joined the line for a pat down. The front of the line was staffed by two response team members (you’d probably recognise them better as SWAT team officers), one searching, another covering with weapon pointed.  Both dressed in full uniform of dark blue coveralls, assault boots, body armor, belt kit with additional plasti-cuffs attached, gloves, and handgun strapped to their legs.  The ‘cover man’ was wearing his helmet, strapped under his chin.

The cover officer looked mid 20s, fresh faced, tall and thin – and hardly looked old enough to be holding a position in such an elite squad; or perhaps I was just getting older!  His colleague performing the actual searches was perhaps mid 40s, with salt and pepper colored hair cut in a crew cut.  It ran through my mind that he was ex-military in the way he carried himself – perhaps 6 feet tall, with one of those classic wide shouldered and slim waist looks favoured by all the magazines.  Long legs, and tight rear end which you could only describe as a bubble butt.

The line moved quickly, and soon I was at the front of the line.  He motioned me forward.

He started his standard ‘four quadrant search’, moving his gloved hands efficiently over my suit.  I liked the guy already, as he was thorough in his searching – too many law enforcement professionals perform cursory searches and miss concealed items.  As far as he was concerned, I was just another member of the public.  Checking my torso, shirt collar, and chest first; he then moved on to my ankles, and worked up my legs.  Getting to my crotch and ass, he checked my belt line, and moved his hands efficiently across and down my butt.  Moving front, he worked his hands up the inside of my legs to between my legs, moving up my crotch.  I don’t think he was expecting to find something locking up my cock and balls in his search; but not being in a relationship at the time, I’d taken it on myself to lock myself away to keep me horny.  He looked up at me and raised his eyebrow, cupped the chastity device in his hand, ran his fingers down it, finished his search, and waved me through into the building.

I could have made my excuses when I arrived, but part of me doesn’t care; but it was still fortunate that my back was to his colleague and the waiting line of people.  I had no doubt he and colleagues would find it a source of laughter later, but for now, he’d dealt professionally and I was on my way.  I was happy with taking in the eye candy.

After completing my work – we still hadn’t reached a situation where the building had been fully checked and made sterile.  As such, the inbound and outbound searches were continuing to operate.  A single person was co-ordinating and sending people to one of five search teams.  I was in no hurry, and had nowhere I needed to be – and at least the outbound searches would likely be paying more attention to property.  At the head of the line, I was waved across to a search team.  I was surprised to see the same military looking SWAT guy from earlier; this time working with a different partner.  I did wonder if he remembered me from earlier on, but there was no glimmer of recognition on his face as I stepped forward.

It was the same procedure again, including the thorough search of my crotch.  I was sure he gave the metal device a tug under my suit, but once again, waved me through as all clear.  Just as I started moving towards the exit doors, I heard the sound of his boots and belt equipment behind me, and then a gloved hand on my right shoulder. 

“You forgot this”.  He said, and handed me a business card.  I always carry a stack of my own business cards, so figured I’d left one in my pocket and it had fallen out during the search.  Flashing him a smile, I said “Thank you Sir”, took the card and put it back with the others in my pocket and headed home. 

I’d got home that night, changed out of my work clothing horny as hell from my handsome uniformed encounter.  I emptied my pockets, only to find the business card he’d handed me earlier.  On the reverse was written “keyholder available” and a cell number.  Suddenly I got a lot hornier.

So was the beginning of my last relationship.  Excited, I texted my SWAT commander that very evening, we agreed to meet in a bar that weekend, and by midnight, I was locked in his cage in a straight jacket tasting his load, and enjoying every drop.   From that point on, I was to be locked in chastity on a regular basis, and become his property. 

We were very compatible as it turned out – both heavily into leather and uniform, and I’d often arrive home to find him in full kit waiting for me with cuffs or a heavy hood being suddenly dropped over my head.  The taste of his boot leather and man scent almost became an addition; and I was sure the high shine was the best in his unit.

His body under uniform was hard and toned, with a thick covering of hair, which I loved to explore with my tongue and breath in his scent.  He spent a lot of time training in the gym at work.  Across his back there was a large tattoo left over from his marine service which just added to his proud masculinity. 

Our evenings off together were normally spent in some intense play, or I’d be locked in his cage or strapped down in a leather sleepsack for the night.  I think we were in love.

Over time, I got to know his turn on areas, and his ‘weaknesses’ – his tits – which would instantly make him horny.  Sometimes, I’d get the chance to take the lead – which I also enjoyed.  This was especially the case when he was overtired.  I knew when this was the case because he’d be very subdued and would often come in and get straight in the shower.

Once, sensing he’d had a particularly bad day, I remember slipping into the shower with him and exploring his wet and naked body with my tongue.  Our tongues intertwined and we kissed for what must have been five minutes solid, and I held him in my arms.  Then I moved down to lick both his pits, and down to his tits, to feel his knees buckle under my attention.  He cock was erect, with water still running down our bodies, but I was still padlocked in chastity.  Continuing down, I traced my tongue across his tattoo and down between his cheeks and around his hole.  Encouraging my face, I sucked and probed whilst he spread his cheeks and moaned like some form of raging bull.

Finishing in the shower, and moving to the bedroom, I was surprised when he wanted me to tie him down.  My cock was hard and pushing against the cb6000 I was locked in, without release this was already frustrating as hell.  Once again, our tongues met, and we explored each other. 

“Go get the key from my work keys, and unlock yourself”.

I didn’t need a second to think about that one, I rushed downstairs and brought back his bunch of work keys, he reached for the right key, and my cock was released and was allowed to swell to its full size.  I was going to use this opportunity while I got it, and reached for the first of the four lockable leather restraints attached to the bed which I was so familiar with.  He loved to keep me tied spread eagle across the bed, but this time it was his turn.

Positioning him face down across our bed, I started by restraining his wrists to each corner of the bed, fastening the heavy leather restraint around each before padlocking it in place.  His wide muscular back looked fantastic in this position, showing off his tattoo artwork.  Next, I pulled his legs apart, and applied a leather ankle restraint to each, spreading his legs and exposing his tight, hairy and toned ass.  He wasn’t going anywhere, and it was a beautiful sight to behold.

Reaching through his legs, I took hold of his meat, which was harder now than even before, and jerked him off a little.  With this, he bellowed like a raging bull, and struggled against the restraints holding him in position.

Not intending to miss my seldom opportunity to be in control, I reached for the dresser draw, and took out the heaviest hood I could find.  The hood was full black leather, with attached straps around the jaw and face, with a lace down the back and zip over the top.  Easy enough to breath in, but when on, there was very little noise from the outside world – a real sensory deprivation hood.  Add to that the heady smell of leather and sweat to further tighten the experience.  The boss knew what was coming next, but didn’t seem to be objecting too much, so I quickly loosened the laces, and pulled it down over his head.  There were more struggling against the restraints, and I slowly tightened each lace to increase his leather prison, and pulled the zip closed around the hood.  I took the padlock from my cb6000, and clicked it into place at the collar.  Boss was now completely controlled and I was enjoying this.

I started by licking the nape of his neck under the collar, and slowly licked down his spine and to his lower back; to many muffed moaning sounds from inside the hood.  Taking in the pleasant view of his broad back, and fantastic ass, I spread his cheeks, and started running my tongue down the length of his ass towards his hole.  This must have been doing the trick, as he started struggling wildly against the restraints and the moans increased.

Reaching his hole, I ran my tongue around it before starting to probe it, deeper and deeper, whilst at the same time, taking his cock in my hand and working it between base and tip.  Driving him crazy, I continued to work his hole for a good while; enjoying getting my man hornier and hornier.  Now nice and lubed, I ran my finger over it and pushed inside.  His worked out ass was tight, but relaxing, and soon my full finger was sliding in and out, and there was muffled moaning and grunts into the hood...  “Take it, take my ass”

Clear what he wanted, I knelt over his tight ass cheeks, now well lubed with my spit, and rubbed the end of my cock against his hole.  We were exclusive and both tested STD free, so no longer needed to practice safe sex, and with my precum providing more lube, I pushed against his hole, and pushed inside.  He bucked and pulled against the restraint, and grunted, whilst pushing his ass up onto my cock

Increasing in speed and depth, I slid in and out of my boss – what a release from my normal chastity this was.  I rode his ass slowly, savouring the sight of my swollen cock disappearing inside that tight muscle ass; trying to enjoy for as long as possible before shooting.  My SWAT boss must have known this was too much for me to resist for long, and moaned into his hood “fill me up boi, fill me up”. Not only was my stunning boss strapped down to our bed, and heavy hooded, but now he was asking me to fill him with my load.  My balls swelling, I pumped more and with a moan of my own this time, unloaded my cum into my bosses ass.  The first cum in a few weeks, there felt like there must have been gallons shooting inside him.

I collapsed over his wide back, kissing and licking his neck, pulling my still hard cock out his ass.

His own cock still hard, I repositioned to lie on my back, and lifted his waist, and took his cock down my throat.  He started face fucking me with vigour, making me cough and choke, but I soon got over it and enjoyed the sensation.  Reaching round, I slid two fingers back into his ass, so with every stroke into my throat it was also like he was being fucked.  This must have been all it took to send him over the edge, the thrusting down my throat increased, his balls tightened, and with the loudest moan, he fired his load into my throat. I took every drop, and swallowed it down hungrily.

Letting both our breathing return to normal for a few minutes, I un-padlocked the ankle and wrist restraints from the securing chains, and cuddled into his back.  I reached for his work keys to release the padlock on the hood, to be greeted by “no, leave it on, and handcuff me for the night”.  I wasn’t accustomed to this submissive behaviour, but I was enjoying every second of my switch.  Reaching back to the dresser, I took a pair of his regulation handcuffs, unbuckled the heavy leather restraints still strapped round his writs, and replaced them with the cuffs, clicking the ratchets shut around his wrists, behind his back.  “I love you” he mumbled in the hood.  Being unused to open expressions of emotion; It blew me away.

We drifted into sleep in that position, and he slept uninterrupted for 8 hours before waking disorientated.  I gently stroked him, un-padlocked the hood and lifted it over his head.  The smell of warm leather was intense; our eyes met, he greeted with me with a smile and more passionate kissing.  I unlocked and removed the cuffs giving my boss his freedom back. 

Shortly after I was back in my cb6000 and I was owned by him again.  I later found out he’d dealt with a case during the day which involved a multiple child homicide.  Whilst he was the toughest and nastiest at work, with a body that physically threatened; there was so much going on behind.  That night, he’d been the one who wanted looking after, losing all control in the heat of passion.

Anyway – things had been going well in the relationship – but unfortunately our high risk jobs meant an unhappy ending.  He was caught in one of the cracks between our worlds and became a casualty of one of the early containment protocols.  I was devastated and felt my own universe had ceased, but slowly realised that I had to move on; and devoted everything to my work.

My original assignment seemed a long way from my current situation.  Here I was, gagged and hooded, strapped in a tight staightjacket and restrained my own cage at multiple attachments.  I wondered how many similar prisoners had been endured this journey, and my cock started to swell.  Tensing my biceps and pecs inside the straight jacket would only put extra pressure on the collar strapping me in place, and there was very little movement.

I noticed a pair of eyes looking at me through the viewing window in the cage door, and heard a jangling of keys, and my cage door swung open.  One of the leather uniformed guards was standing outside my door from earlier.  Allowing me a better look, he was muscular, but not as much as my original Sarge however.  The leather uniform framed his wide chest well, and slimmer waist; with wide leather utility belt, and highly polished boots.  Whilst he was shaven headed, his hair looked dark, and he looked mean.

“Sarge says to look after you, so that’s what I’ll do”

He reached for his nitestick and withdrew it from his belt.  Thinking I was going to receive some bruises, and how unfair it was I couldn’t defend myself, I tensed.  But unexpectedly, the next thing, he dropped to his knees; I could hear his leather creaking and got a whiff of leather mixed with sweat.  Raising the nitestick to his lips, he started licking the tip, working a few inches up the shaft of it.  Already semi hard, this made my cock spring to attention, even though there was nothing I could do about it.  Frustration. 

Next, he took the nitestick, laying it on the cold metal seat I was restrained on, pushed it back towards my hole.  Suddenly understanding that I was destined to be nitestick – fucked, I squirmed a little in the straight jacket and repositioned myself at an angle that the tip was rubbing against my asshole.  Lubed up with my captor’s spit, he pushed harder, and I let the tip invade my ass, groaning into the gag.

He cupped my balls in one hand, and started teasing them, while pushing the nitestick deeper in with the other hand.  Leaing forward, he slowly licked the end of my cock head, sending pulses into my brain.  Taking the whole shaft into his mouth, deep down to the throat, I started fucking his face while he fucked me with the nitestick.  With my gag, hood and neck restrained, I didn’t have free movement to look down to see the back of his head, uniform and my cock disappearing into his throat.  It was almost like this guard was ‘raping’ me – but this was complete pleasure.

Working his tongue back over my cock head, and then taking the whole shaft into this throat, I was ready to pop, and moaned into my gag.  Tuggling my balls down with his gloved hand, and with one last thrust into my ass and into his throat, I unloaded into his throat.  Rather than pulling out, he pushed my cock deeper into his throat, and sucked every drop.

When the pulsations of pleasure had subsided, he cleaned the remaining cum off my shaft and cock head with his tongue, put his nitestick back on his belt, and stood up, and straightened his uniform.

“Heavy cummer too, I can see why you’re special.  That’ll be your last one for a while.  We’ll be there in about 30.”

He tightened the strap around my chest a little, and made sure the collar was still fastened, and closed my cell door.

Fiction: Fringe Division #2 - Level 1 ‘Employment’

Here I was, a member of the FBI’s Fringe Division, naked and strapped down to a prison restraint chair, heavy rubber hood over my face, and a handsome leather clad cop trying to get me off.  My cock and balls were standing to attention, having previously been expertly sucked by Officer Steve, and I now had some form of dildo slowly fucking me. 

Whilst I’d been arrested to find myself in this position, truth be told, I was beginning to enjoy myself.  But I was horny – and this automated “assessment procedure” seemed to be trying every trick to keep me stimulated without letting me shoot my load.  The horny looking leather clad cop who was conducting my “assessment” was still wearing his shiny high leather boots, and tight leather trousers, complete with leather codpiece front and all round back zip in this ‘cell’.

My “Assessment Score” shown on the wall display had now reached Level 9 (I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing), and my leather clad captor, Officer Steve had just selected an indicator on the screen which said “Advanced Assessment”.

The screen displayed “Begin Officer Assessment Level 2”.

The dildo in my ass stopped its fucking motion, and I lost sight of Officer Steve for a moment.  He came back into my view and towards me with what looked like two tit clamps.  A sudden pain in my tit followed by the other and I as clamped up.  The new stimulation fired straight to my brain, and got even harder, the Assessment Score jumped to 10.  Steve’s tongue returned to my cock, teasing the head and licking off what must have been by now soaked with my pre cum.

I was desperate to shoot my creamy load, there was no doubt this was gonna be a heavy cum.  The thought of my load shooting down Officer Steve’s throat or across his chest got me to the edge and I felt my balls tighten, ready to unload.  Suddenly, an alarm showed on the screen, and I guessed in response, Steve pulled back, and ran his hand across the rubber hood enclosing my head.  “Not yet boy, not yet”.

Writhing against the straps holding my body in place, I struggled – desperate to get to my own cock for relief.  But the struggle was in vain, the bonds in the chair weren’t letting me move.  Tits still clamped, moaning and heavy breathing, I gave up the struggle and tried to relax – for every move I made the dildo in my ass also stimulated me more which didn’t help.  I could feel beads of sweat running down the hair on my chest; I needed to calm myself down.

As my breathing returned to normal and my cock softened a little, Steve ran his hands down my shoulders.  This wasn’t stimulation, I felt this was something new – reassurance from his part.  The Assessment Score was now showing 12.

I was brought back to concentration when I felt a tickle in my ass.  It was just gentle to begin with, but soon increased in intensity to a level where it felt like someone was repeatedly fucking my hole.  This new e-stim pulsating through the plug made my moan, and caused me to harden again.

“More?” as Steve looked me in the eyes through the visors in the hood. 

“Yes Sir PLEASE!” I barked back.  I was enjoying this.

Steve pushed another indicator on the wall panel, and the pulses became more intense still.  I was almost certain they were getting quicker, and it made me feel like someone was ploughing into my ass with greater and greater intensity.  It was a shame it wasn’t Officer Steve who was giving me the treatment in person.  I wondered why he hadn’t pulled the codpiece off his leather uniform.

I caught glance of the wall display panel again, which was showing 13, and “Final Advanced Assessment Stage”.  As I looked, the eye visors in the hood appeared to go cloudy, and then black out completely.  At the same time, the hood felt like it was pulled back against the restraint chair, and whilst I tried to move my head from side to side, it was held rigidly in place.

The white noise sound once again seemed to fill my ears, and cut off all external sound.  The internal mask within the hood suddenly felt like it was pushing harder against my nose and mouth, as I felt something push against my lips. I tried to resist whatever it was, but the e-stim fucking kept me moaning, and this object pushed its way into my mouth.  It felt like another solid dildo, now expanding into my mouth, and muffling my moans.

This “Assessment” hood now focused my attention inwards, a complete sensory deprivation experience, the best I could do now is moan into the gag, and focus on breathing in the mixed smell of my own and previous victims sweat, and the smell of rubber.  The dildo was still giving me the feeling I was being fucked long and hard – I didn’t know how much of this I could take.

My senses heightened, again I became aware of a tongue moving across my cock head. The invader in my ass, my senses controlled, and the tight bonds against the chair meant I was already held right on the edge, and Officer Steve again servicing me took me a level higher. 

Suddenly, the air flow appeared to stop to my hood – taking me by complete surprise.  I gasped, and moaned loudly, and struggled against the bonds.  Just as I thought I was going to pass out, the air flow was restored, and I gasped big lungfulls of air.  The air sweetened slightly, and I became aware of a new smell mixed with the sweat and rubber…  I was being force fed what smelled like poppers.  Not normally into taking such things – and liking the sensation of being under complete control,  I felt my balls tighten.

The leather clad stud cop Steve was still sliding his tongue over my cock, and started to take the whole length down to his throat repeatedly.  The complete restraint, controlled senses, e-stim and clamped tits heightened every stoke of Steve’s tongue. 

The air flow stopped once again… I moaned into the gag, my nuts went into spasm and I felt probably the most intense orgasm I’d ever felt, the cum welling up inside my cock, and felt like being fired from a gun.  Officer Steve’s mouth was still wrapped round my cock, and I felt his tongue on the tip as a shot into his mouth and throat.  I seemed to shoot my load for ages, must have filled Steve’s mouth – and he seemed to be enjoying taking it.  My leather clad captor must have swallowed it down, licked and sucked the remnants from the tip of my cock head.  The clean air flow returned.

When the spasms had subsided, the gag seemed to pull back from my mouth, and the pressure became less on my face. The plug stopped pulsating and I felt it moving back out my ass.

“There’s a boy.  Deep breath”.

I was still breathing heavily, but held my breath as told, and my tits felt they had burst into flames – I think I’d even forgotten about the tit clamps.  The visored eye pieces in the hood became clear again, and Officer Steve was standing in front of me with a big smile on his face.

“You did well…   very well…”

Leaning forward, I felt him reach for the collar of the hood, and buckle it, before loosening the straps which must have been down the back of the hood.  When loose enough, he lifted the entire hood off my head – the cold air taking me by surprise.  I couldn’t speak – I was exhausted and the deprivation had my head in pieces.  I just smiled back at Steve.

He planted his lips on mine, and I tasted his breath and mouth.  It was a kiss I felt down to my toes.  Our tongues explored each other’s mouths – it was something I could have done for hours.

“Let’s see your assessment results” Steve said, and turned to the console which now read “Assessment Completed”.  Steve tapped an indicator and a series of bar graphs appeared, and a flashing overall “Assessment Score” of 15.  “Wow, 15, top of the class.  Also, good response to stimuli and control ratings.  You’ll have no problems with employment when you get to the job center.  Now, we’ll get you rested, before transport to the job center.”

With that, Steve started undoing the straps and restraints that were holding me in the restraint chair.  I was very warm now and I could feel the sweat against the back of the chair.  Completely unrestrained, I didn’t have any energy to resist. 

Officer Steve helped me out the chair, and took me over to the bed on the far side of the cell.  Lifting my legs onto the bed, he returned to my wrists, and looped a heavy humane restraint around my wrist, and locked it closed.  Next, my other wrist was restrained to the bed.  Once again, I was under his complete control and not going anywhere.  One ankle, followed by the other were also locked into the four point restraints.  It was fairly comfortable, but lying here naked I felt exposed.

Strapped down to my cell bed, Officer Steve took his body armour from the back of the chair and strapped himself back in, and then got into his leather uniform shirt.  There was no doubt he was a good looking guy.  His gunbelt was strapped back around his waist, cuffs hanging from it, and he leant down across the bed and pecked me on the lips.

“Get some rest, I’ll be back later, after I’ve done your paperwork”.  He turned, swiped his ID on the door lock, and left the cell – the door closed behind him, and the room was plunged into darkness.

I don’t know how long I remained strapped down, and the darkness of the room disorientated me.  I must have dropped off from exhaustion at some point – only to awake further disorientated and struggling against the secure restraints.  Fringe Division seemed a long long way from where I was.

I heard a click of the door, and the light again flooded the room.  When my eyes adjusted, I was pleased to see that familiar Officer Steve was back, and still looking good as ever in full leather uniform.  He carried a large bag which he placed on the floor. 

He took his gloves off, and ran his fingers over my lips, down my chest and again played with my tit.  Still sore from my “assessment”, I told him “Steady, Officer”, to which he smiled, and planted his mouth on mine again.  I noticed the four dots on his brow – definitely a tattoo of some kind.  Our tongues met, and explored each other.  Breaking off, Steve started licking my neck, only to move further down my chest and continue licking, my cock sprung once again into action.  Reaching my navel, he licked my six pack, before moving to my erect cock, and running his tongue across the tip.  Taking the whole length down to his throat, again, I was being tortured with pleasure.

This time, my hips were unrestrained, so I could enjoy thrusting at the same time Officer Steve took my cock down to his throat.  Looking down, I had good view of the back of Steve’s head, his broad shoulders inside his tight uniform, and his tight ass cheeks.

Unexpectedly, Steve stood up, and grinned at me. I guessed this was part of the assessment procedure again – but wait a minute – I’d already got my 15 rating.  Steve reached round his waist and unclipped his belt, returning it to the back of the earlier chair.  Reaching round his back, he took hold of the zip at the top of his uniform pants, and slowly undid it.  As he did so, his tight ass cheeks came into view, and hairless ass.  Continuing, the turned to face me, and started rubbing the leather front of his codpiece.  With a few snaps, the leather pouch fell free – but instead of releasing Steve’s cop meat, I noticed instead only shiny metal. 

Now I think I was beginning to understand Steve’s lack of pleasuring himself earlier – he was padlocked in chastity!  A hundred questions ran through my head – Officer Steve was owned?  Who and where was his keyholder?  Or was his standard uniform?  Was the handsome man-mountain Sarge from earlier also locked away?  I was also beginning to understand what I thought were the facial dots tattoo – it was a designation of rank or status I thought.

Steve knelt up over my restrained body, I strained against the humane restraints, but managed to lift my head up, and connected with Steve’s crack.  Working my tongue down, I found his tight hole, and ran my tongue around it – this time it was Officer Steve’s turn to do the moaning.  Working him into a frenzy, I tasted the sweat and smell of leather, and plunged my tongue into his hole.  I was doing something right – letting out a deep moan he pushed against my face, encouraging me to probe deeper.  I tongue fucked his hole, my own meat still erect and dripping – but Steve completely unable to pleasure his own cock.  I liked this scene – fully clad leather cop, squatting over me, fully dressed, and unable to get off.

Before long, Officer Steve was moaning with every movement – he must have been desperate for relief.  He started repositioning himself and again returned his mouth to my cock.  Working it up and down, his hot mouth taking the length down to his throat. 

Turning, Steve squatted to face me, still straddling my restrained form.  I lifted my hips from the bed; the fantasy I’d had about fucking Officer Steve earlier looked like a shared fantasy.  With my earlier tongue work, and Steve’s attention to my cock, I rubbed my lubed up meat between the cheeks of his ass.  He didn’t at all seem concerned about risk – I was guessing STIs and infections were a thing of the past on this world.  Finding the right spot, I thrust my hips upwards, and inside Steve’s tight ass.  I must have been keeping Steve happy, as let out a grunt, followed by a moan.

With my wrists and ankles still restrained, fucking Steve was an interesting challenge, but manageable – my cock slid in and out of his ass between his leather uniform.  I loved seeing my cock sliding deep into his hole whilst he was still wearing full leathers.  I pounded Steve’s ass, and felt myself getting close.

“Gonna shoot, Officer”, I warned him.

“Inside me SIR”.

Whoa.  Officer Steve had just called me Sir.  Steve’s weakness point was obviously his ass, and I was sure this wasn’t part of my assessment – it was pure pleasure only.  I also loved that I was fucking him and he couldn’t play with himself.  My balls tightened, and with a grunt, I again shot my load – this time filling up Officer Steve’s ass with my creamy cum.

Both panting, Steve lay next to me, the leather of his uniform feeling great against my naked body.  He kissed my passionately, and we both lay exhausted for a few moments.

Steve zipped his uniform back up, snapped his codpiece back on, and put back on his gunbelt, leaving me still strapped to the bed in restraints. He swiped his ID and stepped out the cell door, leaving me again alone.  What must have been less than five minutes later, I heard the now familiar click of the door lock, and Officer Steve walked back in, followed by Sarge who’d been part of my initial ‘arrest’.

“How did he do?” Sarge asked his smaller colleague.

“Very highly Sarge – a 15 with high longevity, submission and kink grades also.”

“Wow, a while since we’ve had a 15.  Employment shouldn’t be an issue for you – time to get you to the job center.  One question. Easy or difficult boy?” Sarge questioned.

“Easy” I replied.  I didn’t want any more trouble, and I was already exhausted and not capable of a fight.

“Good”.  Sarge opened the bag which Officer Steve had brought into the cell earlier.

First item which he removed was a pair of combat boots.  Sarge had one hand on his TASER, and with the other, waved at Officer Steve to unstrap me from the bed.  Steve quickly unclipped the medical restraints, and helped me swing my legs over the side of the bed.

“Boots on boy”.

I took the boots, and put each of my feet into them before lacing them up.  They fitted perfectly, and semi shined in the artificial light of my prison cell.

“Stand up, hands out boy” Sarge was definitely giving the orders.

I complied and lifted both arms up, to which the smaller of my leather clad captors took the straight jacket and pushed it over my arms onto my chest.  Steve went behind me, and started buckling up straps.  Lower back, mid back, upper back, and two crotch straps - soon everything felt tighter. Steve pulled my arms across my chest, and pulled the back strap tight.  He then  tightened the straps a second time – I was comfortable but tightly encased in this new prison.

Sarge then reached into the bag and took out a pair of heavy irons – and Steve placed them around each of my booted ankles, and clicked them shut.  This was heavy restraint – and there was certainly going to be no escaping.  The chains made a metallic noise all of their own which started getting me horny.

Sarge must have noticed I was starting to harden, and handed Steve the bag, approaching me.  Reaching down, Sarge took my cock and balls in his leather gloved hand and gave them a few tugs.

“Now I see why you’re worthy of a 15”, he exclaimed.  Bending forward, Sarge licked the end of my cock, and took it into his mouth.  After a few thrusts, he stood back up “very nice boy.  Okay Steve”.

Steve came from behind my head, taking me by surprise, and rammed what felt like a solid rubber gag into my mouth.  It seemed huge and filled my mouth.  Again, I was unable to speak.  I grunted into the gag, as Steve buckled it shut behind my head.

Finally, Officer Steve took a prison hood (a hood to stop prisoner’s spitting or biting corrections officers, but still allows the prisoner to see), and pulled it down over my head.  Tightening it at the neck, and the buckling the collar of the straight jacket, I was completely restrained, horny again, and under the control of my two leather clad warders.

With a guard on each side, Sarge and Officer Steve guided me towards the cell door and out into the corridor, shuffling as I was.  In the corridor were a number of other guards, and prisoners.  We were all dressed the same way – straight jacket, boots, leg irons, and hood.  Could it be that each of the other prisoner’s had been treated to the same assessment procedures?

I counted seven, not including myself.  One guy appeared to be giving his guards particular problems – probably as big as Sarge, he was as tall as wide, shaven headed and tattooed.  He was struggling, resisting, and both his guards were struggling to physically control him also.  His body was impressive, and he was straining every muscle against his guards.

Sarge realised his colleagues were struggling, and went over to assist. 

“Level 1 Sarge”, one of them told Sarge.

Sarge calmly took one enormous hand, and took a hold of the skinhead by the neck. 

“Calm the fuck down, or I’ll give you something to complain about” Sarge calmly stated to the suspect.  This only served to enrage the angry skin further, to which his struggling became even more violent; the straps of his straight jacket straining against every movement. “Special measures please officers”, to which Sarge took his TASER from his gunbelt, pushed it against the skin’s leg, and pulled the trigger.  There was a clicking, a load moan, and the skinhead fell to the ground, whimpering. 

One officer stepped away for a second and returned with a case, which he set down next to the now crumbled resisting suspect.  Opening the case, I couldn’t see what was inside, but whatever it was, he rolled the skin onto his front, and spreading his muscular ass, squirted some lube around his hole.  Taking another object from the case, it looked to me like an enormous butt plug with a number of ridges.  The officer took the plug, and rubbed it against the suspects ass hole, and then pushed.  Even still recovering from being TASERed, the skin screamed as the invader entered him.  It looked like the plug was being screwed into his ass hole, and finally the officer pushed a button on the plug, which made the skin scream again.

“Your ass is now filled with a plug, which will be as permanent as you misbehave.  It’s stretched to level 1 at present, it can go to level 10.  It can also do this…” Sarge pushed a small button in the case, and the skin screamed again.  “That’s the lowest e-stim setting.  Easy or difficult, your decision boy”.

The skinhead stopped struggling, was helped to his feet, and Sarge returned to his position.  “Aren’t you glad you chose easy?” Steve whispered in my ear.

A door opened at the far end of the corridor, and two more leather uniformed officers entered.  This time, they were wearing green leathers, in the same style as Sarge and Officer Steve.  I wasn’t able to see if they also had back zips.  Both were shaven headed, over six feet, and about Sarge’s build.

After an exchange in paperwork, we were all led out outside in our restraints.  Sarge patted me on my naked ass, and ran his gloved hand down across my hole, and told the two new officers “Take very good care of his one, he’s very special”, and winked. 

In turn each of us was helped into prison transport.  Inside were individual cells (more like a human size cage), to which we were each allocated.  Once seated, our ankle chains were clipped into a floor level attachment point by one of the guards, to which I found I could now only move my boots a few inches in any direction before the chain restricted me.  The guard also clipped the back of my collar into an attachment point, and fastened two belts around my chest and waist.  After that, he shut the cage door, leaving only a small viewing window.

I could see enough out the viewing window to see that the big skinhead from earlier was again struggling against his straight jacket and situation. 

“Level 3 boy until you calm down” I heard one of the guards exclaim.  There was a click, and the skinhead was screaming once again.  The screaming must have gone on for 30 seconds, followed by 10 seconds, and then it started again for 30 seconds.  There seemed to be less noise after that for a while, then I heard a familiar click of a collar being attached.

For a few moments, there was the sound of muffled voices outside, and no noise from inside the truck.  Then the roar of an engine starting, and we started to move.  I was to find out soon enough what the job center had in store.