
At The Center they keep Race Cooper chained naked to a chair. Sweat shines on his skin under the lights. A shock collar hugs his throat. Dirk Caber stands over him in guard blues and a salt-and-pepper beard, nightstick in hand. He runs the baton across Race’s balls, shoves it under his chin, then grinds it into one tight nipple. Race flinches but keeps his mouth shut. Dirk’s smooth talk dries up, so he hits the juice. Current snaps through the collar and Race jerks hard against the steel. Next come the clamps—two steel teeth bite down on those nipples until Race howls. Dirk watches the fight drain out of him, then unzips. He feeds Race his thick cock and the prisoner swallows like it’s the only thing that will stop the hurt. The cuffs come off. Race works him with both hands and a hungry throat. Dirk grunts, pulls out, and paints Race’s face. Race shoots at the same time, ropes hitting the floor between Dirk’s boots while the name Dirk wants spills from his lips.
At The Center they keep Race Cooper chained naked to a chair. Sweat shines on his skin under the lights. A shock collar hugs his throat. Dirk Caber stands over him in guard blues and a salt-and-pepper beard, nightstick in hand. He runs the baton across Race’s balls, shoves it under his chin, then grinds it into one tight nipple. Race flinches but keeps his mouth shut. Dirk’s smooth talk dries up, so he hits the juice. Current snaps through the collar and Race jerks hard against the steel. Next come the clamps—two steel teeth bite down on those nipples until Race howls. Dirk watches the fight drain out of him, then unzips. He feeds Race his thick cock and the prisoner swallows like it’s the only thing that will stop the hurt. The cuffs come off. Race works him with both hands and a hungry throat. Dirk grunts, pulls out, and paints Race’s face. Race shoots at the same time, ropes hitting the floor between Dirk’s boots while the name Dirk wants spills from his lips.