Sunday 19 June 2022

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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Friday 10 June 2022

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.