Friday, September 20, 2013

Wrestler Boy

The older guy strips off brawny, hairy and hard, and he knows all the moves.  He's brought up and disciplined three sons, all off his hands now, and he wants a replacement.  Except of course this one will have a lot more bandwidth.  A lot more to play with.  A lot more to learn.  Punish.  Teach.  He's got spirit too, and he'll give his new master plenty of pain.  They'll both enjoy it.  If he plays dirty he'll be put over daddy's knee and take a long, hard, slow spanking. Daddy wants his boy in good shape, so no whip for him, at least not until he's 21.  So it?s a man?s hand, and the belt, regularly.  He always gets hard on daddy's knee, then he knows what to do.  He goes up to daddy's big triple kingsize bed and lays face down, spread-eagled.  Daddy eventually comes up and lays down on him.  Both guys always keep their socks on, otherwise they're naked.  Daddy goes thru the wrestling again, telling him what he did right, and finally what he did wrong.  Daddy is big and hard at that point and Jackson can feel him all wet.  He spreads his thighs wide and smells the Nivea creme.  Daddy goes in.  One of the biggest cocks in Texas, and it's all for Jackson.  He thinks that when he starts taking the whip all this will stop.  Wrong.  He'll find that daddy's cock and daddy's whip are a team made in hell.

Cop Lessons

He was chained up, his shirt ripped off and the first whiplash came swiftly down on his massive shoulders.   Shoulders that up to then had only known the caress of his girlfriend and, way back, his football coach.  He breathed in hard, wondering how many of these he was in for

it was a nice arrangement.  Bob Jarrold was a good border cop, and respected for his hardhitting muscularity, hands-on policing and a sixth sense on when and where to stop and search.  He also got a hefty paycheck each month from Roberto Nunez on the other side

the trick was to balance his intelligence.  His colleagues could not be allowed to suspect they had a mole in their ranks.  Whilst Nunez always wanted to minimise his losses.   It was a fine line to walk, and when he blew the whistle on a truckload of drugs crossing at San Ysidro Nunez was furious.  He was called to the ranch, and he duly showed up.  He knew he was in for a bollocking, but he'd always schmoozed his way out before with the promise of good behaviour for a month or so

Nunez was not buying it this time, and never even went out to meet him.  The whip was cracking down on his rippling back in the hot yard before he knew it.  The cameras were trained on him, relaying HD images to three 54 inch screens in the lounge, as the guys poured drinks and watched

`I've always wanted to see this guy take it` said Rodriguez

`Yeah, he had it coming to him` said another.  One or two said they wanted it on dvd

The lights were dimmed and the curtains hummed and closed.   The screens gave out the only light, and the clean hard crack of the whip landing on heavyweight muscularity was the only noise in the lounge.  Soon, trouser flies were being unzipped, and Mexican cocks were rearing up for release.  Jarrold was grunting, and the smell of cock started to permeate the room

`How many he had?` asked Javier

`Forty` said Nunez, whose eyes were glued to the central screen.  He said something into his mobile.  A young muscular good-looking guy came in, shirtless, in smart black pants and barefooted.  Without a word he kneeled down, took out Nunez' cock and started to suck it.   Some of the guys looked at him rather than the screens, and as Jarrold's groans got louder they shot their muck into tissues taken from boxes on a large coffee table.  They laid back and watched, as Jarrold's physique got welted in the blazing afternoon sun.  One by one, the guys shot their load

Javier spoke on his cellphone, and said `He's had eighty-five boss`

Nunez said `Carry on Javier`  The order was given, and the men watched

`It's not making much of a dent on him, I'll give him that` said one

`He's loving it` said Nunez `the perverted .. bastard`. The last word trailed away into a whisper.   He was convulsing in his armchair, and the young guy could be heard swallowing.   Nunez laid back and watched for another minute or so, then nodded at Javier.  Javier spoke into his phone, and shortly after that the whipmaster threw his whip aside

Jarrold was released by a couple of ranchhands.  One smacked his face around first, and the other punched him in the guts a couple of times.   The whipmaster handed him a mobile.  Jarrold listened, then said `Yeah boss, I got the message.  Lesson learned.  See you next month`

he picked up the remains of his shirt and walked over to his car, knowing his big whipped back was on the cameras.  He opened the car door and sprawled for a few moments on it, head down, shirtless, whipped and sweating.  His leg was cocked on the sill, showing a clear erection in his dark blue pants.   The big muscled cop had taken his punishment, and Nunez knew he was his forever.  He pushed his young muscular boyfriend back down on his cock.

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Tarzan, Captured, Chained, & Sold

Border Protection

Borders have to be protected with the utmost rigour.  This guy had been rounded up

`Well done sergeant.  Usual questioning, then send him back over the border`  `Yessir`

In fact Sgt Kovinsky knew the guy only too well.  He'd been a day labourer at the family farm, and the sergeant's sister became fond of him.  Very fond.  Father wasn't too pleased, but she thought her brother would understand.  She told him Kudar was coming back for her, to take her back home and marry her.  Then perhaps to get papers for Germany.  As the sergeant saw it, he now had the guy who was going to carry his sister away, ravish her and sell her into white slavery.  All his.  Until his shift ended at 8 next morning.  Plenty of time for a trained interrogator to make sure that the guy was in no shape ever even to think about seeing his sister again, and if he did, she wouldn't want to know.  He was a fit guy, but an 8-hour shift was enough to destroy him.  He wasn't even sure he'd bother with the electro.  Nothing he needed to know.  Sgt Kovinsky just wanted to get his whip into action.  He loved the feeling it gave him as his arms flexed, and got pumped.  Then it spread to his back.  His lats would flare, and he'd feel the sweat making his waistband wet.  He'd loosen it and swing with even more deliberate aim.  He liked it best if he stripped the guy naked and shucked his own pants off too.  He'd keep his cap on of course, his badge of authority, even though that would darken with sweat

the guy would be slumped, his back totally tramtracked with bloody slashes.  The sergeant would turn him round, for some front work.  The guy would flex in defiance and say `I want Elena and she will be mine`  Wrong words fella.  The sergeant would grab his balls and feel them, rolling them around between his fingers.  The guy would say `They will give you your nieces and nephews`.  Some guys just don't get it, do they?  The sergeant would pull the table over to the guy, and wire his balls up.  Half hour later it was definitely `Byebye nieces and nephews` and the electrodes would be going up his arse for good measure

The Slave & The Warden

He was in for the murder of a gangland rival.  He'd whipped him to death with a length of electrical cable.  With the insulation stripped away at the last 12 inches, and the copper knotted.  It was a nice job, and Warden Tyrron, who was in charge of him and had had black ops experience in his dubious past, appreciated a fellow master.  But there was no turn-turnabout here.  Slavic was in for life, and under `labour terms`.  Meaning that he was a chained slave, the plaything of his warden.  Tyrron liked to keep his man in good shape.  He made sure that the labour was hard, and worked all his muscle areas.  He often took pictures.  Then he'd chain him up in the X-frame.  Slavic was a strong, silent type, but this fell away in the X-frame.  He hated the whip.  `No, please Warden, I'm not due for it yet` he would whisper, as he took the manacles and Tyrron stripped away his jock.  He knew he was due for it, but just couldn't take it.  Tyrron usually gave him 40, and this was about every fortnight, but the fun was in the semen control.  Saturday nights he'd sit with `his boy` in his office and play porn.  He had some good stuff.  Top quality girls, violent, inventive.  Slavic would be sitting in a thin, worn jockstrap, his hands cuffed behind his back, goggling at the action.  Tyrron would play with his boy.  Slavic's cock would rise free of the dirty cotton pouch, and get wet.  His healthy natural urges made his member sticky, a man?s plea for release.  Tyrron would stroke him.  Or leave his warm hand over the pouch and feel the guy's throbbing member.  Or fondle his aching balls.  A happy ending was by no means guaranteed.  Sometimes Tyrron would push him over to the X-frame and whip him to the sound of climaxing females.  Or just take him back to his cell when he was almost there.  Sometimes he would indeed drive him mad with a soft finger stroke to the cock, and let him shoot to that limited stimulation.  He'd stop at the guy's first spurt, and watch him shoot, and dribble spunk down the pouch of his jock.  `Please Warden, jack me off` Slavic would beg, pushing his hips up in supplication to his warden.  But he'd go back to his cell and get chained to the bunk until work on Monday.  `The protein's building you up, 207, instead of going to waste` the warden would tell him `but I'm going back to jack off to that little redhead with the big boobs` he'd say, his bulging crotch right over the lying man's face.  `Just be glad I spared you the whip tonight.  One of these nights your front is gonna get it.  Never had your tits caned, have you dude?  We'll save that one up for Christmas`