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Setting the Prison Guard Free


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The typical prison-set story would probably involve some new inmate having his cherry popped and becoming the personal cumdump of a dominant prisoner. Maybe it would involve an inmate being used by the guards. Maybe it would even be some sickly love story about two cellmates finding comfort in each other’s arms. But that is not how this story goes. No, for I am actually a prison guard, my cherry was popped years ago, and this is the story of how I was ‘set free’ by a prisoner.

I had played along with the stereotype for hunky young men in my school, dating a pretty girl, marrying her after graduation, and having a couple of babies shortly after that. I had not gone to college, but instead got a job in a security firm before applying for a role as a prison guard once I was a bit older. Eventually we had moved to a different, larger town after my wife inherited a small house from her great aunt, and I had managed to pick up a job at the prison there.

This is all well and good, but of course is not the whole story. I had first acted on my impulses when I was a security guard, forcing a drunk guy who was trespassing on the land I was looking after to suck me off so that I would let him go. Another trespasser was made to let me suck him off. When I caught two guys living rough on a construction site I was patrolling, I let them stay as long as they fucked me every night. I made them wear condoms of course, but somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I would rather they went in bare.

Being a prison guard had opened up new opportunities for me, but these were definitely more limited in the first place that I worked just because of how small it was. It was only once I had got settled in at my current job at a huge state prison on the edge of town that I realised how much I was going to be able to satisfy my need for cock, so that I could go home every night with that itch scratched and duly play my role as the good husband, the doting father, the man of the house. It was very easy to identify the inmates who could give me what I needed, in exchange for cigarettes, weed or whatever they wanted (within reason). However, I also knew that it would be best to not leave much evidence behind wherever on the complex I found to have these interactions, so I got myself on PrEP and finally ditched the condoms.

There were a few places I could risk getting inmates to fuck me without any issues. There were three different storage cupboards out of view of security cameras that served the purpose well, depending on whether I was guarding the inmates doing laundry, those doing who were cleaning the communal showers, or the ones getting some library time. There was also a secret locker at the back of one of the landscaping sheds which had apparently been put in by a now-retired dodgy guard for storing contraband he could sell to the prisoners, which I took over as my personal pounding room when I was guarding the inmates doing the gardening.

I had to have my wits about me though, and a chance encounter in a public toilet with a guy called Bill who worked in the security room proved to be very helpful. Thereafter, in exchange for daily access to my ass if he wanted to bust a load, I could rely on him to work things so that I could have a bit of time with a prisoner a few times a week without being filmed or seen. It was a nice arrangement, and meant that I ended most of my shifts with at least two loads in me.

Then one day I got sick. No, not ‘that’ kind of sick, but rather I picked up a stomach infection. It knocked me off work for a few days, and when I went to the doctor he put me on some antibiotics while also telling me to lay off certain things for a while. Alcohol was one, my PrEP pills were another. Indeed, he told me I should take the opportunity to give my body a break from that regime, and I would just need to adjust my lifestyle accordingly for a bit (though he didn't delve into why a married man was taking the pills). I had already been off them for nearly a week given I couldn’t keep anything down, and now he wanted me to take another three or four weeks without swallowing one.  What. A. Nightmare.

However, I decided to be a good patient and do as he asked. I spoke to the warden about returning to work but needing a bit of time to get back into the swing of things, and he put me on a few days of admin duties to help him catch the place up after a secretary had left and they’d failed to recruit anyone else suitable. This worked well for me, giving me some time away from the temptation of the prisoners while still allowing me to keep Bill sweet by sucking him off once or twice a day. After a bit of persuading, I also let him resume fucking me as he said he was clean and, well, I needed him to be on side when I got back to doing what I loved.

I suppose it was naive of me to think I would not be sent back to my normal day job, and when I was finally put back on guarding duties I still had three weeks to go before I could go back on the pills. I carried some condoms around with me in case I got weak, but I focused on trying to stay out of the way of the clique of prisoners who had become my regulars. This wasn’t so easy, but for a few days I managed it to the point that I thought I would maybe make it through until I was safe to resume normal service.

There were two things that I didn’t know in all of this. First, my clique was getting seriously restless, not just from a lack of easy sex but also because their regular supply of contraband had been cut off. Second, two of my fellow guards were also now suffering from the shutdown in the system. Mike and Steve were, it seems, rather crooked and had found out about my exploits after confronting Bill about some oddities in the footage. They had been looking for something to use against a prisoner at the time, but once my activities came to light they had instead decided to make some money out of it. They could have gone down the immediate blackmail route with me, but instead had set up tiny cameras in all of my secret spaces to get some footage they could sell online as well as hold in reserve to use against me if needed. I had, entirely unintentionally and unknowingly, become a bit of a porn star.

Anyway, my sudden disappearance was becoming an issue. A few days away because I was sick was something everyone just had to put up with, but the knowledge that I was back in the building but still somehow unavailable was going down less well. The fact that I was even now back on guarding duties but still not putting out was, it turned out, intolerable. Bill knew why I was taking a break, but he was also not in a position to deny Mike and Steve’s demands for a resolution to the problem, and thus the three of them formed a plan. They figured I needed to be ‘re-inducted’ to the way of life that made them money, and they were going to see to it that I realised the error of my ways.

That plan involved me reporting for a meeting I had been notified about through what seemed like an official email, only to find myself alone in the smaller and more remote of the two conference rooms at the prison. After waiting for a bit I got up to leave, which is when I found the door had quietly been locked by someone on the outside. I banged on it and shouted, but no-one came and I soon gave up. I slumped in a seat, quite alarmed at the situation I was in, until I heard the door unlock. Before I could get up it swung open and three of my regulars walked in. Patrick was a big hulk of a man, tattooed from head to toe, always wearing a grimace, and pretty much the most rampant rapist of other prisoners that we guards knew of. Mark was pretty short and looked kind of feeble, but he was sharp as a nail, was at the centre of most of the contraband rings going, and I also knew him to be hung like a horse. Gary was quite a gentle looking man, belying his true nature as a violent thug who rather made up for his homosexuality by behaving as much like an alpha as he could.

“Been avoiding us” said Gary.

“Er, guys, I, have, er, been, er, sick” I stammered.

“Yeah, like two weeks ago” Mark said, sneering. “You’ve been avoiding us since. What gives?”

“I, er…” I tried to reply, but was cut off by Patrick striding towards me, throwing me face forwards onto the conference room table, and then grabbing the fabric of my pants. He unceremoniously ripped a huge hole at the back, and then immediately tore through my Calvin Kleins underneath. I barely had time to react when I felt his cock ram into my hole, which fortunately Bill had fucked just an hour earlier so I was at least a little stretched and lubed. It still hurt like hell though, and I yelled in pain but also in horror.

Patrick fucked me like a madman, and then blew his load inside me. Gary followed suit, then Mark. Then Patrick again. Then Gary again. You get the drift. They were damn near relentless.

I knew I was fucked. Not only do I mean I was being fucked, but in the other sense I was fucked too. You see, not only was Patrick a known rapist, but every single one of the prisoners who he set his sights on would wind up in the infirmary with flu. The other guards hadn’t made the connection, but I knew what was going on. Patrick was clearly as toxic as it gets, and all these men he took as his own were getting pozzed. Now here I was taking load after load from him when I had no protection of any kind, and I guess you could say I knew my fate was sealed.  As for Gary and Mark, I had no idea of their status, although if they weren’t already poz then repeatedly dipping their cocks into the toxic splooge that Patrick was leaving in my hole was possibly going to take them down too.

In all, while bent over the conference table that afternoon, I took twelve loads.  Five were from Patrick, four from Mark, and three from Gary. My hole was left gaping, dripping cum that I also found had a pink tint to it when I was finally allowed to leave the room and run across the hall to the bathroom. They’d fucked me so much I was bleeding, meaning I was pretty damn sure what was in store for me. I was on the Poztown Express, and life as I knew it would be over.

Suddenly a calm descended on me as I realised that I didn’t care. If anything, I felt a wave of euphoria and relief flow over me. Orchestrating this secret life on the side had been kind of exhausting, but nowhere near as tiring as maintaining the pretence of being some kind of perfect straight man. If Patrick had kept to his normal form then I was going to be testing positive soon, and maybe that’s just what I needed to break me out of the ‘straightjacket’. I decided then and there that I would resume normal service the next day, and Patrick would be the one I aimed to get with the most.

But that wasn’t enough. After finding some fresh pants and starting the drive home, I felt compelled to find some way to keep things going that same day. A beast had been unleashed in me, and that beast needed feeding. I circled back round off my normal route, and headed for the overpass where I knew I could find what I was looking for. Sure enough, when I pulled up nearby and got out of my car, I could see a couple of fires burning in barrels, and the shapes of various men hanging around. I took a deep breath, then walked over towards them all. When I reached the camp and looked around, I briefly paused to take in my surroundings before finally recognising the man I had come to see. Standing a few feet away and staring intently at me was Willy, a former inmate that we guards knew was Patrick’s boy and who had, as we were not surprised to hear, joined the ranks of the homeless after being released.

“What the fuck you doing here” he spat out at me.

I didn’t reply, but instead just walked towards and then past him to a gap in the tents and cardboard boxes that I could see beyond. I stepped into that gap, noting it felt a bit like a dark alley being out of the light from the barrel fires, and then took another deep breath. As I heard the crunch of someone walking up behind me, I undid my new pants and pulled them down, revealing my torn underwear beneath. I then bent forward, put my hands on the concrete of the overpass for support, and pushed my butt back.

The message was heard loud and clear, and in mere moments I felt a cock being pushed into me. I don’t know if it was actually Willy or one of the other guys living there, but he fucked me good and hard for a few minutes and then blew his load. Another followed suit, his cock being so thick it made me yelp as it went in despite how stretched I was by this point. Once he was done, a whole procession of more average-sized guys stuck their dicks in me and blew a load. Maybe some of them had a second go, but I never looked back to see. All I knew is that Willy at least must be diseased, and I was willing to bet that many of the others were too. Indeed, I suspected I was getting more than just HIV pumped into me.

After a bit of a clean-up by the car with some moist towels, I went home to endure the wrath of my wife for being so late. I chuckled to myself at how angry she was going to be when the truth came out, and the fact that I found the prospect of that funny only assured me that I was finally on the right path. The next day it was much the same story. I managed to get a session in with Patrick in the landscaping shed, and then after clocking off I went back to the overpass to take some more dirty loads from all the homeless guys who fancied using me, then home to fury in woman form. The day after, Patrick took me in the laundry storage room, followed by Gary in the landscaping shed, and then it was back to the overpass that night on the way home. You get the idea. I was a man on a mission.

The warden was deeply displeased when I called in sick with the flu just a few weeks after being off with that stomach bug, but there we go. We were already short staffed, so I knew my job was safe despite what was about to go down in my personal life. Sure enough, once I was better I got myself tested, and then proudly put the results in front of my wife. HIV, and at least three other STDs. She of course went apeshit, and I was out on my ass. I stayed with Bill for a couple of days while I got an apartment of my own sorted, and barely three days after moving in the divorce papers arrived. My wife took the kids and moved back to her mother’s, the house went on the market, and that was that. Old life gone, new life started.

I was free. By raping me with his toxic cock, Patrick had not only possibly been the one to poz me, but he’d set me loose from the constraints that I had built up around my world. Now I was an open, happy pig, able to visit any bar, club or bookstore in town without worrying about who saw me, and readily accepting any man who happened by to come round to my place to spend the night buried inside me. I decided not to stop my community service at the overpass, and to this day I’m there several times a week chasing down whatever bugs the men have picked up.

As for prison life, things got interesting. Bill knew my status but didn’t stop fucking me, so he eventually got taken down with the bug. Mike and Steve crossed a line with Mark on a contraband deal gone wrong, and soon found themselves being set upon by Patrick, Gary and a load of other guys when they were on garden guarding duty, before being made to bend over in my secret shed to take their punishment. That’s two more staff now pozzed. The warden getting drunk and coming on to me one night took the tally up to five, and got me a promotion as well in exchange for my silence on the matter. He also agreed to shut off a couple of cameras periodically, so I'm now a lot more free to get what I need from a much larger group of regulars.  Funny how things work out.

Anyway, I told you this wouldn’t be your normal prison story. Who knows where things will go next in my life, but for now I have to run. We have a busload of new prisoners arriving soon, and I want to go and see if I can guess which one will be first to succumb to Patrick’s DNA.  Lucky bastards...

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  • 1 month later...

Damn hot story. I've always had fantasy of being sent to jail for a crime I didn't commit. A big black inmate is my cellmate. He tuerns me into his bitch and pinps to the rest of the black men in the prison. He sissifies me as much as possible I'm his bitch.

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Wow that's a hot story- I would love more on the overpass homeless part-sounds just whay I wish as a bi closeted male needs to let himself go & accept what's given to him. I hope you write more especially about the homeless guys & maybe this story from say the wardens perspective. 100% star writing dude!!

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