Bound and Bent: Ten Tales of Serving Him
Page 24
Harris was nodding his head and almost laughing to himself as he stroked his thick fingers up and down the velvet skin of Jack's prick. "Look at this," he whispered. "Oh yeah. Got you hard, hey?"
Jack swallowed, trying to moisten his dry mouth to speak. "I..."
Harris pressed his thumb to the underside of Jack's shaft. "Being jerked off by a prisoner? Oh this is not good, is it? What would people say if they knew? I had better let you go. Before it's too late." Harris let go and stepped back.
Jack remained frozen in space for a moment, one arm raised where Harris had held it. Harris started to laugh, and it galvanised Jack into action. He stuffed his cock back into his pants and whirled out of the cell, thoughts tumbling over and over in his mind.
Uppermost was the thought that it was already too late.
***
Jack called in sick for the following two nights. He couldn't see any way out of the mess now. There was something called "conditioning" that all the staff were constantly warned about. It was a game the prisoners would play. They'd be forever on the look-out for a way to get one over on the officers. As soon as a member of staff let their guard down, a prisoner would exploit it. If an officer gave a newspaper to a cleaner to read, then technically that officer was breaking the rules – and the cleaner could have many happy weeks of blackmailing the officer. After the first step on that road, you were lost.
Jack knew he was past saving.
He moped in his bed, convincing his wife he had flu. She phoned his manager for him and no-one suspected he wasn't really ill.
How long could he do this for? He thought about other jobs he could go for. Security guard, maybe.
And yet the figure of Harris loomed in his dreams and he knew he had to go back. He didn't know how this would end – badly, no doubt – but he wanted to face Harris one more time.
***
There he was, back on nights, back on B-wing, back walking the corridor and running through the monotonous list of tasks of a night shift.
He flipped Harris's panel and was surprised when there was no-one waiting in the window. He doubly checked the sign outside; he was correct, and this was Harris's cell. Jack stepped closer and peered in, looking for him.
Harris was sitting on his bed, apparently thinking. He looked up slowly, and when he saw it was Jack, he grinned and nodded. He rose to his feet, stretching. He was bare-chested and bare-footed, wearing only loose boxer shorts.
Even before Harris beckoned him in, Jack was unlocking the door. He began to step inside and with a violent jolt, Harris grabbed him by the throat and hauled him into the cell, slamming the door shut behind him.
Jack was thrust up against the wall, with Harris leaning his forearm across his neck. Cold sweat drenched Jack's back as he tried to wriggle free but he was pinned firmly. He tried to relax and go floppy but his whole body was tensed to fight or flee.
The pressure on his throat made it hard to breathe and dots started to swim in Jack's eyes. He tried to shout but he couldn't even speak. He gaped his mouth like a fish, trying to focus on Harris's eyes, silently pleading for release.
Harris brought his face to a few inches from Jack's, and stared.
Jack's vision dimmed as he fought for breath. His hands started to jerk and twitch.
With a grunt, Harris lifted his forearm away and Jack staggered forwards. Harris slammed him back against the cell door, pinioning him by the shoulders this time, and Jack drew some deep and rasping breaths as his consciousness returned. "Fuck...!"
"They tell me you've been ill," Harris said, his light conversational tone totally at odds with the power he was bearing down on Jack.
Jack nodded. He was feeling limp and out of control. He fixed his attention on little details: the light hair across Harris' chest, the veins in his neck, the little lines of orange in the irises of his grey eyes. If he were a woman, Jack would swear that he was swooning.
"Oh dear," Harris said, without a scrap of sympathy. "I have missed you. Been lonely in here. You can do something for me, now."
Harris adjusted his stance and the pressure on Jack's shoulders turned downwards. Jack was inexorably pushed to his knees, so that his face was level with Harris's groin.
He knew what was expected of him but he was at a loss. He was straight, wasn't he? Hell, he was married, and had hardly fooled around much even before he got hitched. He'd never so much as watched gay porn before. Now this guy was asking him to ... yeah, to suck his dick.
And a little part of Jack wondered if he wanted to.
But he couldn't move. He was immobile in his fear, caught between what would happen if he did do this – and what Harris would do if he didn't.
A stinging slap caught him on the side of the face. "Suck it!" Harris growled. "I want to see you get my cock out, and put it in your mouth, and make me hard."
Jack's cheek burned. With shaking, hesitant hands, he drew Harris's cock out through the slit in his boxers. He'd never touched another man like this before. Harris was semi-erect already. The skin was warm and soft. As Jack let his fingers explore, the member stiffened. Jack could feel his own prick unfurling and echoing Harris's hardening.
"Suck it," Harris repeated with low menace.
Slowly, carefully, Jack extended his tongue and lightly touched the tip of Harris's cock. Nothing bad happened. Emboldened, he licked more firmly along the underside of the meaty shaft, and was rewarded by a glistening drop of precum emerging at the head of the now fully-erect cock.
"Awww fuck it," Harris suddenly blurted out, and grabbed the back of Jack's head. He rammed his cock hard into Jack's mouth, making him gag and struggle.
Harris kept up a slow, steady rhythm as Jack tried to keep his lips wrapped over his teeth and take as much of the prisoner's dick as he could. But each time the back of this throat was hit, he couldn't stop his muffled gag, and eventually Harris pulled out in exasperation.
"Jesus, what are you like? Get up."
Wiping his mouth, Jack staggered to his feet, and just as he regained his balance, Harris spun him around and grabbed his hips, pulling him a step backwards into the room. With a wrench, Harris loosened Jack's belt. "Bend over."
Jack didn't dare hesitate. Harris sounded angry and ready to blow – either his temper or his load, whichever happened first. Jack bent and felt his trousers dragged down, exposing his ass to the air.
Oh god oh god...this is what I think it is... and the thought of Harris plunging his cock into his puckered, twitching asshole made his own cock even harder. What the fuck?
There was a strange sensation, which Jack realised was Harris's thumb probing between his butt cheeks. He felt himself pressed open. Then a different sensation; Harris's dick, pressed into his opening. He braced himself.
He was tensed. But the thrust he expected, tearing into him, never came. Again Harris slapped him – this time delivering a sharp blow across his butt cheek – and then he felt himself pushed forward. He lost his balance and sprawled to the floor, trapped with his trousers tangling his legs together.
Above him loomed Harris, frantically jerking off, his huge hand a blur on his cock. It seemed like seconds and then, with a growl, Harris sprayed his cum across Jack's quivering naked legs.
Jack's own cock was rigid and desperate for attention but he didn't dare make any kind of move until Harris had finished and the last spurt had dribbled across Jack's skin. Even then he didn't feel he could touch himself. Instead he stumbled to his feet and tried to pull his trousers back up, without smearing the warm cum over his legs. It didn't work. He felt sticky and awkward.
And dangerously turned on.
Harris looked at him with a strange expression – almost pity, perhaps. But he didn't speak. He just watched, silently, as Jack tried to straighten himself out.
Jack paused, making eye contact, but not sure what to say. He moved towards the door. Still Harris didn't say anything.
Unnerved, Jack left as quietly as he could, and strode to the men's room to tr
y and clean up. He felt almost bereft, cheated.
He was about to ass-rape me...and I wanted him to.
Confused, still turned on, and with the unpleasant sensation of another man's ejaculate drying on his skin, Jack gave up trying to rationalise it. He knew what he was going to do now.
***
Jack walked down the wing with a different step the next night. He walked with confidence and knowledge. He knocked on Harris's cell door before swinging it open, and entered willingly.
Harris was naked. He stood in the centre of the tiny room, an expectant air hanging around his broad shoulders. A small smile creased one side of my mouth. Jack knew that Harris knew he'd be back like this.
A thought flitted through Jack's mind – how many others? He pushed it aside. None of that mattered. Just here, and now.
Jack closed the door behind him, shooting the lock across before pushing it closed, so that he could still get out. Then he stood still and admired Harris's body.
He didn't look at him like he looked at other men. In the gym, he'd looked at other guys – of course he had. He'd been impressed by their fitness, or envied their form. He'd wanted to be them. But with Harris, he didn't want to be him – he wanted to be taken by him. He wanted to exist in relation to Harris's huge physique. He wanted to be the other half of a whole.
"Drop your pants, then." Harris spoke quietly. Without question, Jack fumbled at his belt and let his trousers fall to the floor. He stepped out of them and felt awkward in his boots and white shirt. He started to unbutton, to get totally naked like Harris, but Harris made a negative gesture with his hand. Jack paused.
"Okay." Harris tipped his head back at an angle and looked at Jack through narrowed eyes. "You know what you've come here for, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Uhhh." Jack's blood began to pound in his ears. If he said the words he knew Harris wanted, he would be committing himself to Harris's power.
Jack spoke. "Uhh, yes...sir."
The prisoner's grin widened. "Say that again. I like that."
"Yes, sir."
Harris started to fondle his dick, stroking though the thick curly hair that roamed from his groin up his belly and down his thighs. "Fucking hell. Just hearing an officer call me sir makes me hard."
For Jack, seeing Harris manipulate his cock made Jack's own prick swell and move. His balls were tingling in expectation already. Harris noticed his arousal.
"Turn around, boy."
"Yes, sir." Jack spun around, presenting his naked ass to the prisoner. He felt Harris's hands on his butt cheeks.
"Bend over the bed."
"Sir." Jack leaned forwards, bracing his arms on the narrow cell bed. His ass was pulled open and he felt his pucker gape.
There was the odd pushing sensation again, as Harris urged his thumb into Jack's hole. Then he heard a hawking noise, and a splat as Harris spat a gob of saliva for lubrication. Harris began to massage the spit around and into his asshole, and he felt himself open up to the probing.
Soon Harris had his thumb plunged well into his hole. Jack felt himself tense with each move, then relax, and Harris could move more freely. Bit by bit, Harris worked him open.
"What a sweet little virgin ass," Harris murmured. "I'm going to stick my dick right into you, boy, and you are going to keep silent, okay?"
Jack knew he had to stay quiet. He nodded. There was a sudden feeling of emptiness and Harris pulled his thumb out, and Jack felt his arsehole twitch with loneliness. Now he needed to be filled.
Harris spat again and used the end of his cock to work the moisture around Jack's hole, pushing with slow and almost tender thrusts, going a little deeper with each move of his pelvis. His wide hands were gripping Jack's hips and it gave Jack a strange feeling of security. He was held. He was small. He was penetrated. He was...his.
Then a thrust took the whole rounded head of Harris's cock fully into his dirty channel, and the sudden blast of pain made Jack gasp. This time Harris didn't withdraw; he stilled for a moment, letting Jack adjust to the new sensation. The pain waved and became something more...something good. Jack relaxed. Harris felt Jack draw a deep breath, and took it as his cue to resume his steady movements, sliding in and in and in, stretching Jack's skin, pressing internally in a way Jack had never experienced before.
And Jack hit a point where he suddenly realised that this was what he wanted, and he wanted more, and he wanted it to fill him completely, and with a moan he pressed his body backwards to meet Harris's thrust, urging the prisoner to spear him and pound him and ride him.
Harris tightened his grip on Jack's hips and took the hint. No more slow and steady. Jack heard Harris's breathing change, becoming rasping and ragged, as now the prisoner hammered into his torn ass with no more regard for his comfort.
Harris's hands burned hot on his skin and he felt perspiration drop onto his exposed ass as Harris battered relentlessly into him. Harris's balls hung low and bounced off Jack's thighs and Jack's own cock was erect and throbbing. Jack tried to move his weight onto one hand, freeing the other to touch himself, but he couldn't; he needed both arms on the bed to take the weight of Harris's endless and increasing pounding.
"I'm going to cum in your ass," Harris whispered. Jack moaned low in reply. The thought made his balls tighten up as if he were going to cum as well. His prick was aching for attention but everything was focussed now on the huge cock plunging deep inside.
Suddenly he felt Harris move one hand from his hip and snake it around his belly. Harris grabbed Jack's cock and gave it a tug, and to Jack's surprise and horror it was all he needed to set him off in orgasm. He was amazed as the surge burst forth from his tight balls and he fell forwards, burying his face in the bedclothes to muffle his groans.
Harris made a sound almost like a laugh as he let go of Jack's trembling cock and grabbed him firmly by both hips again, dragging his butt upwards as he slammed once, twice, and finally a third time with a stifled roar as he held Jack against him and his hot cum flooded into Jack's brutalised ass.
"Uhhh - fuck!" Harris growled. "Fuck....yeah." He twitched and spurted once more, then let go, and Jack crumpled forwards onto the bed, Harris's seed pouring out of his hole. Jack's belly was already covered in his own cum. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and juice.
Jack rolled to one side, feeling dizzy and dazed, and warm. He looked up muzzily to the prisoner looming protectively over him.
"Thank you, sir," he whispered. It seemed the right thing to say.
Harris nodded a nonchalant acknowledgment. "You can go now, before you leak any more on my fucking bed, you little tit."
Hastily Jack tried to gather himself together, rolling onto the floor in a crouch and feeling some shame as the rest of Harris's cum dripped onto the lino. Harris tossed a toilet roll over and Jack mopped up as much as he could, before dressing and standing up. Now the waves of orgasm had receded, he felt a curious mixture of throbbing pain and deep, relaxing warmth.
But it was like the previous night. Harris didn't speak. He dismissed Jack with a wave and turned his back, and Jack walked awkwardly out onto the wing, feeling lost and alone again.
***
Night shifts were long and usually quiet. Jack cleaned up and sat in the office with a steaming mug of coffee, flicking through the databases on the wing computer. Harris infected his thoughts. The big man strode through his mind, cock in hand, grinning, and Jack felt small and wanted and oddly safe.
He would do whatever Harris wanted. Jack wanted to be wanted by Harris. Jack wanted to be in Harris's control.
There was a way to ensure that.
Jack made some amendments to the files and records. He added in some extra details. He made some observations, backdated and carefully worded.
He needed Harris and he needed Harris to need him. He would make sure that Harris would always be a part of his life. He couldn't give him up now.
Harris was never going to get success at that
parole board now.
They were going to be together, for ever, master and slave, officer and prisoner, man and man.
Jack smiled. Nightshifts were going to be good.
***
If you enjoyed this read, check out another hot tale from Gia:
Madam Virginia's Establishment for Young Ladies
Three innocent young women learn about the beauty of pain and submission at the hands of three older men.
Madam Virginia runs a very special establishment to train young ladies in all the skills that will be needed when they become the wives of rich aristocrats in Regency society. Each girl is paired with a man who will bring out the very best of her potential, and her reward is to be collared and claimed.
Jane Kaur Smith is a shy, quiet girl but under the tutelage of Mr Nelson she learns how to use her body to cause a dominant man to attend to her every need. In contrast, Penelope is an aloof young lady, focused wholly on her Bible studies, and she finds pleasure in nothing earthly, until the decadent Beau de Lacey unlocks the secrets of her flesh through the medium of pain. And Emma has always relied on herself, thinking that she did not need any man in her life, but she soon learns that in perfect submission she can find perfect joy.
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