Officer Hanes loves his job tormenting hot young male prisoners. Night after night he punishes their soft flesh and leaves them screaming long into the night. But when he meets prison boy Sergio, everything changes, and he has to contend with a defiance like he has never before seen. Can he break hot Hispanic Sergio? Find out in Corrections!
Corrections - Chapter 1
by A.J. Moor
Series: Corrections
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Officer Hanes walked through the narrow halls of the prison, ready to punish the inmates without mercy, smiling to himself.
He was new to this particular prison—Adeltine Prison for Young Men—but he was not new to corrections. He had started out as a lowly corrections officer ten years before, and now he had worked his way up to the Director of Disciplinary Action as he started his new position at Adeltine.
“You’ll start with the ten worst inmates,” the warden had said, sipping his coffee in between sentences. His office reeked of cigarette smoke despite strict rules against smoking in government buildings. He leaned forward, his eyes intense as he spoke to Officer Hanes. “You’ll have to be hard on these boys. They haven’t had any discipline before now.” Then he sat back, a wry smirk on his face. “And you can punish them any way you want. Just no permanent damage.”
“Yes Sir,” Hanes had responded. “I think I can handle that.” So still he made his way down the corridors. As he would have ten prisoners to contend with, he knew he would have to up his game. And because these young men had never been punished before as they should have been, he would really have to subject them to the harshest discipline at his disposal. And the thought even occurred to him that he may have to fuck one of them just to get his point across. Of course, that wouldn’t be a problem. In a place like this, restraints were everywhere, and bondage was easy. All he would have to do was bend one of those pathetic prison boys over a bench and fuck his tight ass. He would choose one, of course, who he felt wanted it, but who also resisted it. Amazing as it was, there were such prison boys in the world, and he would find one such young man today.
And still he walked, and as he made his way toward the makeshift torture chamber he would be working in, he thought back to the one thing he wouldn’t tolerate in a prison boy. Defiance. He remembered one particular time when a boy had been especially defiant with him.
“Don’t look at me like that, boy,” he had said, gritting his teeth as he spoke. It was a young white kid—only 18 years old, and he had an angry look on his face. Hanes had just beaten him for insolence, but the boy seemed not to show the proper respect.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Sir?” the boy had said, standing there in his wife beater and shorts, humble bare feet underneath him, and that’s when Hanes lost it. He drew back his fist and slapped it across the boy’s face, knocking him to the ground. But if he thought that was going to work, he would be wrong. The boy looked up at him, the defiance still evident on his face, a small trickle of blood coming from his lip. Then defiance turned to amusement. Then the boy laughed.
He laughed like a mad witch at Halloween, and that only further incensed Hanes.
“You’re like my old man when I was 15,” the boy said, still lying on the ground but now starting to get up. Hanes watched him carefully, ready to beat the lad yet again, but then he had a better idea.
The boy was just a little muscular, and Hanes could tell he worked out some, but Hanes was even more muscular, and he knew he could easily take the boy. He walked up to him, grabbing him by his hair, and dragged him over to a bondage bench.
“What are you doing?” he asked, defiance having turned to fear. That’s when Hanes tied the boy over the bondage bench after having ripped the shorts off his body, shredding them and leaving them in a pile on the ground. He stood behind the once defiant but now terrified young man, and he drew out his rock hard dick. He spat in it, ready to slather up his dick and fuck the boy without mercy. “What are you doing?” the boy repeated, but now just a little louder. The fear was even more obvious in his voice as he quickly realized his currently virgin ass would soon enough no longer be virgin. “What are you doing?” he demanded a third time, and this time he screamed his words. Now fear had turned to sheer terror as Hanes moved his cock over the boy’s tight, young, virgin ass and got ready to invade. He soon moved his cock deep within, fucking it. And as he did so, he realized the boy’s terror had somewhat subsided when he finally and fundamentally understood it was going to be easier to take that rock hard dick up his ass than he thought—at least, that was what Hanes assumed had happened. The boy started moaning in pleasure as Hanes used his dick to tickle the young man’s prostate, and as Hanes fucked him, he reached around to the boy’s own dick—now hard as well—and felt just the slightest bit of precum dripping from it.
“You like this,” Hanes said, laughing.
“No Sir,” the boy responded in a breathy voice. “But are you gonna let me come?”
Hanes now grabbed the back of the boy’s hair, pulling it hard and without mercy, causing the young man to wince in the light discomfort. “If you’re good,” he said, but the boy was now practically dancing in his bondage, moving his hips in time with Hanes’s thrusts, welcoming the man’s dick into the deepest parts of his young ass, ready to come at a moment’s notice if Hanes—his momentary master—would let him.
“How do you like getting tied and fucked, boy?” he asked.
“I hate it, Sir,” the boy responded, but Hanes could tell that was obviously not the case. Clearly Hanes had awakened the boy to the glorious sensations of gay anal sex he had never known possible, and yet he allegedly considered himself straight. It was obvious to Hanes that it was the humiliation that bothered the boy more than anything. The humiliation of being fucked by another man. Of being fucked by another man in front of his fellow prison boys. And liking it. All these sensations and thoughts clearly overwhelmed the young prisoner, even as he danced about in his bondage, taking that rock hard dick up his ass, getting fucked by Hanes without mercy. And even as Hanes fucked him so hard and so rough, he still grabbed the hair on the boy’s head, holding it back, adding physical pain to humiliation, making the boy his slave, his bitch, his very property to do with in whatever manner he so pleased.
As Hanes penetrated the boy’s ass, the young prisoner’s breathing grew heavier even as Hanes’s fucking grew still more intense. Hanes could see out of the corner of his eye that the boy’s bare toes were curling underneath him and his hands had formed fists. Hanes slapped the boy’s ass a few times and continued fucking, and as he did so, he felt the familiar itch to come.
What was it about anger that so captivated Hanes? Why did it only take a mere prison boy pissing him off to cause him to want to fuck a boy like that, no mercy? And once Hanes had fucked the boy long enough, pressing his cock in and out of the young man’s ass to massage his dick to the point he might shoot his load, he started moaning as he muscles grew even tenser.
“Oh fuck!” Hanes cried out, and soon the ropes of cum spewed out of his dick and into the boy’s young ass. The fucking had clearly done its job. The prison slave also shot his young, steamy load, and the cum ran down his hot little ass cheeks. Now the prison slave’s humiliation was complete. He was forevermore transformed, and Hanes successfully owned the boy for life. Nevermore could he take back what had happened. He had been Hanes’s bitch boy, and there was no way to unring that bell. Now he slumped over in his bondage, the tears staining his face—even despite his having liked the cruel treatment—as it was the humiliation more than the pain that had caused the boy to cry. And Hanes unfastened the prison boy’s restraints, and never again did he have a problem with that particular inmate.
That was how Hanes worked. Break the boys, and then they were yours for life. They would eat out of your hands,and they would lose the will to fight back. That was what fucking a straight boy was for. But there were other punishments in addition. And yet, after fucking that boy, he swore he would never do it again. It was as if he had to mentally contend with the idea that perhaps he had taken it too far, even with a young prison boy. He had to be more careful, but he still had to admit that fucking a young prisoner without mercy was one of the hottest experiences he normally had with anyone.
But yes, there were other punishments. There was the strap.
As Hanes walked through the halls of Adeltine, he clutched the terrifying strap in his hand. It was long and black, made of the cruelest, most painful leather. The tip fanned out to inflict the maximum torture and humiliation on a young prison boy’s back or chest or even the soles of his soft, bare feet. And as he thought about that strap, his dick grew hard at the idea of just how many young prison men that very strap had punished over the years. And he dared to wonder for a moment—just how much suffering and humiliation had that very strap caused? How many screams had come from horny prisoners’ lips as it had beaten them on their hot young bodies? How many more workout reps had that strap been responsible for motivating exhausted young prisoners to perform when they thought they simply had no more energy left within their tortured, racked, overworked bodies? And as these thoughts overwhelmed Hanes’s brain, he smiled to himself once more as he realized he was about to meet ten more horny young prison boys he would have the opportunity to punish as much as his heart desired with the sadistic strap he clutched in his hand. He raised it up, as if ready to hit a boy’s flesh with it, and he got ready to mete out the punishments he knew these young prison slaves clearly deserved. It would be terrifying for them, but very hot to Hanes.
When he arrived at the door behind which he knew his new prison slaves were standing, he waited a moment and drew in a deep breath. He wasn’t nervous, but rather simply excited to have yet further young men under his complete control. He quickly adjusted his growing cock, and then he opened the door.
When he walked in, his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Standing before him, in the humblest fashion possible, were ten young prison boys ready to take their punishments. Hanes knew these muscular young guys were the worst of the worst at the prison. They were all white and Hispanic, with one lonely Asian prisoner standing in the row of ten, who had the most obsequious and deferent expression on his face. They all stood before him, trembling just a little in their skimpy garb. They were shirtless, wearing only a pair of tight shorts with the standard black and white stripes that had been normal coloring for prison boys’ clothing at the turn of the 20th Century. And they all stood with their hands behind their backs, eyes downcast. He studied each of these boys, all between the ages of around 18 and 22, and he stopped in front of each one, measuring his fear. When he got to one young Hispanic boy, however, he remained in study a little longer. He could easily spot defiance, and he quickly knew this would be the boy he would have to focus most of his attention on.
He knew these boys had already been trained in what was expected of them, but he also knew he would have to ensure the strictest discipline to motivate these young men to do exactly as they were supposed to do. That would clearly be the case with this young Hispanic man. He was an average height, and he was also muscular—thought not quite as much so as Hanes. He had cropped hair, as was the prison’s regulation, and it was coal black. He had just the slightest hint of stubble on his face, as the prison allowed the inmates to shave every three days. His chest was chiseled and very sexy, and on it were two soft, light brown nipples that Hanes noticed immediately. His cock bulged forth in his prison shorts, and then Hanes took a moment to quickly look down at the prisoner’s delicious bare feet. They too were a golden brown, with just the slightest divide between the tops of his coffee colored feet and his light pink soles. And as Hanes examined this boy, he knew he would thoroughly enjoy punishing his hot young body.
Suddenly Hanes lunged forward and grabbed the boy by his face. The young man looked up, an expression of terror in his eyes, though Hanes could still see the look of defiance there. This young man would be hard to break, but it would be a battle of wills. And Hanes was determined to win. Yes, he would be victorious no matter what.
“You got a problem, boy?”
“No Sir.”
“You sure?” Hanes grabbed the young man’s face a little harder now.
“I said fuck no, Sir!”
Now Hanes pushed the boy back, pressing him hard against the wall, but the young man never lost the sense of anger in his eyes.
“What’s your name, prisoner?”
“Sergio, Sir.”
Now Hanes let go a little, and then he backed away. “I like you, kid,” he said sarcastically, “but I can tell I’m gonna have to give you some special treatment.” He stepped back a little more. Then he got in Sergio’s face and screamed, “Get back in line, prisoner!”
Sergio showed a look of fear, but only for a moment. Then he casually walked over to the line, a smirk on his face. Hanes would let that go though—for now.
He walked back in front of the prisoners and held his strap out in front of two of them.
“You,” he said, “bring that bench over here. The long one.” Now Hanes was trying to hide his hard on, and he honestly didn’t know if he could do it. “You’re going to do some pushups, and we’re going to do the chants you were taught by the guard who instructed you on what to do. If you skip a chant, you get the strap.” Then he raised his voice once more. “Do pieces of shit understand?”
The prisoners responded in unison. “YES SIR!” they said. At least, all except for one. Sergio was silent. Once more, Hanes would let that go—for now. When the prisoners had brought the bench to the front of the room, Hanes pointed at it with his strap.
“You’re going to do decline pushups as your first forced workout. Your bare feet will go on the bench, and your hands on the floor. Now move!”
With those words, the prisoners got in a line, all twenty of their bare feet and all hundred of their toes secured on the bench. Then they put their hands on the floor in front of them. They were trying to relax as best they could in this humiliating and difficult position, but Hanes would make them work out like slaves in just a moment. And he walked behind the bench, ready with the strap for any boy who got lazy, and he positioned himself right behind the bare, tan soles of Sergio. That boy would submit. He would obey. Yes, Hanes would break him before the day was over. Of that, he was absolutely convinced. No mercy for that boy. None whatsoever. None.