Date: Fri, 9 Feb 2024 15:37:54 -0800 From: gayD Subject: Imprisoned in Mexico - Chapter 1 - post under incest Hi everyone. I am Bruce Darkforce at gaydic@gmail.com. I have written tons erotic porn stories. Most are too intense and too graphic to be approved for inclusion here. So they are posted on https://www.gayties.com/. (You have to join, but membership is free.) This is my first story posted here on incest on this great site (and I hope you donate here to help support it). I planned an 3 chapter outline, but I'm still working on the story direction, so tell me what you think. This story is copyrighted by GayTies.com. Imprisoned in Mexico Part 1 of 3 It wasn't like I robbed a bank and shot someone in the process; I just took a car for a fucking joy ride. I was drunk on spring break, I wasn't going to keep it, but I did crash it up. I got arrested, tried, and convicted of auto theft and got 6 years. Sounds bad? Yes ... but that was not the worst of it. You see, I was in Mexico and imprisoned in Tijuana. Sure, my family and our lawyers tried to help and did. That's the way I got six years rather than 10. I fought the prison system. It was a tough first year, but as time passed, I just accepted it and was doing my time in the best way I could, trying to get an early release for good behavior. After five years, nine months in this shit hole- YES! I WAS IN FOR SIX YEARS FOR A FUCKING JOY RIDE! - I was called into the Captain's office. Their system was that the Captain made the key decisions in running the prison. At the same time, the Warden was more of a political figurehead. So I was taken to Captain Hernandez and waited in the outer reception area with his female secretary. There I was, handcuffed, in my blue shirt uniform with black pants, thinking about why I was called here, hoping it was something about my getting an early release. I had only three months left to serve. My record was imperfect; I had a rough first year, but I quickly adjusted and learned to do what they told me. I kept to myself and was the perfect inmate. Finally, after hearing "Bring in John Oliver, Elaina" on her intercom, she escorted me into the Captain's office. I was in here before, and like the rest of this Mexican prison, it's a dump. The whitewashed walls had a bright orange stripe parallel to the floor and cracks everywhere. There were no nice furnishings, lamps, or rugs, just his desk, chair, and a couple of other chairs for "guests" to sit on. With no decorations, it was more like a workroom than an office for the person in charge. Eliana ushered me in and left, closing the door. I remained standing, still handcuffed, as the Captain looked me up and down. "Stand against the wall." He said as he checked me out. I was light-skinned with thin black hair but more muscle tone than most 24-year-olds. I was 18 when I was arrested. When I was first incarcerated here, many inmates tried to put the make on me or even rape me. But they learned I was straight and a lot tougher than I looked, so they learned to leave me alone. The worst I got was a lot of name-calling, but I stopped reacting to it, and it died down. "So, Johnny," the Captain called me "Johnny" as most guys did in here, "I've been looking over your record, and I see you have been behaving almost like a model inmate, and ... I see you already served five years, nine months of six years already. That allows me to give you an early release date, like shaving off the remaining three months. So, what do you think about that?" Oddly, the Captain spoke English with no Mexican accent. Inmates know the Captain's story. Although a Mexican citizen, he grew up and was educated in Florida. The story is that he started his career working for the Miami police department, which he did for years. Apparently, he abruptly returned to the safety of Tijuana after an investigation was opened to look into his role in sexual crimes while working on Miami PD. So he is here. "Sir, that would be wonderful. Thank you, Sir. So ... I could leave here in a few days? My God, that would be great. I miss my family and my girlfriend, my home, so much. ...When exactly would I leave, Sir?" I asked, most politely. "Hold on there. I said you behaved `almost' perfectly. Your record shows that you had that scuffle within the first few months of being here. Your record when you first arrived showed that you were... well ... not very cooperative. That caused your visitors and mail to be curtailed as punishment." The Captain said calmly, knowing he had caught me off guard. "Sir, that wasn't my fault. I wasn't even ...." Then I realized what he just said! "You mean ... I thought ... my family was not visiting because they didn't want to. You're telling me ... they were not allowed? I could have had my girl here to visit?" It hit me like a bombshell. This was all news to me. "... and I have mail too? ... From Martha?" "Yes, on both counts. But rules are rules. Your misbehavior back then is costing you dearly now. ... course... with your improved record ... I could ease up on those restrictions. ... But, well, Johnny ... you'd have to do a little something for me." Without hesitation, I nodded my head with eagerness. "That's great, Johnny. You see, I keep hearing that you're a cute, sexy little stud, and your skin is so smooth and silky. I just want to see you naked now. But I'm not going to force you." I was so stunned I took an involuntary step backward. "But, Sir, I'm not gay. I have a wonderful girlfriend; we plan to marry when I leave. She told me that in my first year here, before I stopped receiving mail. I mean, she is so pure. She's still a virgin, so ... I can't... do anything like that. I never do anything gay. So I can't take my clothes off. OK? Sir?" The Captain knew he was holding all the cards. "Of course, I understand completely. That's your right." He paused and added, "Married? That's sweet. You'll make a nice couple. I saw the photos she sent to you a few months ago. `Course, we had to retain those because you were on restrictions. ... But, yes, you'll make a handsome couple." "Sir? Do you mean ... you'll show me the photos if I remove my clothes? And you'd commute my sentences, too?" I had tears in my eyes. I didn't know anything about any options or rules or who could really do what. "Hold on, boy, first things first. Yes, you strip, and I'll show you those photos. But no more arguments. Is that clear, Johnny? Stand against the wall, and remove your clothes ... if you want to ..." The Captain came over to me. I nodded. I thought to myself. I get naked in the showers. Can't be that big of a deal. I removed my shoes and socks, unzipped my pants, and let them fall to my knees. The Captain stopped me there with my pants and underwear halfway down. He stopped in front of me and grabbed my naked dick and balls, and examined them closely. He remained in that position for some time, pulling and manhandling me as if I were a pet animal. He was enjoying himself. Then, the Caption wanted me to continue to strip. It was a little difficult with the handcuffs still on, but I managed to do it to a point. But then he removed my cuffs so I could strip fully. I unbuttoned my uniform shirt, dropped it on my pants, then pulled my white tee over my head. My underwear was still bunched around my thighs. "May I see the photos now, my Captain, of Martha?" I pleaded softly. But the Captain said nothing. He didn't even make a gesture. I knew what he was waiting for, so I lowered my underwear and stepped out of them, topping the messy pile of my clothes. I was so completely embarrassed. This is much different from being naked in the showers. I felt filthy and sleazy. "Now, may I see them, my sweet Captain?" "It does take you a while to comply, doesn't it, boy? But ... yes, you may see them. I always keep my word. First, let's get your pile of stinky clothes off my nice, clean floor." He paused. "Pick up all your clothes, including your shoes and socks." Johnny did and just held them, waiting for further instructions. Then he pushed the button on the intercom, "Eliana, come in here, please." "She opened the door without noticing me naked, "Yes, Sir?" "Oliver here is complaining about lice on his clothes. Please take them to the laundry." Eliana wasn't shocked to see the inmate naked. It was not the first time the Captain had an inmate naked in his office for one reason or another. Johnny was thinking, "What lice? I didn't say anything about wanting new clothes." "Oh, Sir, the laundry is closed until tomorrow." "That's fine. He can wait for tomorrow to get fresh clothes. Just take them, put them in a bag, and bring them to the laundry tomorrow." Johnny was stunned. But he held out his bundle of clothes, and Eliana took it. I returned to stand before the Captain's desk. I felt the most vulnerable I have felt since I entered this scuzzy prison. I didn't even have the false sense of security of looking down and seeing my clothes on the floor. They were gone. There was now only naked me, with nothing. "Nice. Now, Johnny. Here are the photos of your beautiful Martha." He took them out of an envelope and handed them to me. I was so nervous and anxious that I practically tore them out of his hand. I didn't notice, but that put a smile on his face. Without asking if I could sit down, I just collapsed in the chair behind me and feasted my eyes on the first of three photos, looking at all the detail and muttering, "Oh thank you, Sir, thank you," but never taking my eyes from that top image. It has been a long time since I saw any photos of her, read any of her mail, or saw anything from anyone in my family. I even forgot about being naked. "I could not help but notice she sent you a nude of her. She must be sort of a slut, hey Johnny?" Immediately, I found the nude photo, and she was so beautiful. It was an artsy pose that didn't show her private parts, but it angered me that the Captain and other staff members looked at it. "Yeah, look at those big cow-titties, Johnny. God, I'll bet you loved to suck those juicy, perky udders, hey Johnny?" I tried to keep my cool, but he was getting under my skin. How dare he call my sweet love a slut and a cow! Oh God, how I wanted to yell, "Shut the fuck up, you Goddamn asshole!"... but I needed to remain cool and not fuck up my early release. I bit my tongue. You do a lot of that in prison. "You can see how your bitch has her hand over her cunt. She doesn't want you to see how swollen her fuck cave is from being worked over by so many men so often. I'll bet she gets on her knees in the gutters and begs to be fucked. Hey Johnny? But don't you worry. She's not just any whore. She's your whore. And I'm sure when you get back to her in one to two years, she'll be ready to stop all those tramps from banging her and fucking her up the ass. Right? Johnny? I mean. I don't want to put words in your mouth, but ... ain't I right?" I could not say anything. I was near tears at how the Captain was badmouthing my sweet bride-to-be. I didn't even hear him when he said one to two more years; I was in another world of joyful images and memories. "I suppose you want to read her letter too, the one accompanying these photos?" "Letter?" I asked, now displaying a smile. "Well, of course, she wouldn't just mail you photos, you asshole. Of course, she wrote a letter and described her feelings about you. My God, it must be four pages. Sorry, we must read all mail sent to you; it's our unpleasant job when guys are on mail restrictions. She writes a lot about .... well, I see there is no need to tell you what's in the letter since you are obviously not interested in her." "What! Sir?! Please! Yes. Please, may I read her letter? Oh God, please." I pleaded loudly, not thinking who could hear me outside the door. "Johnny Oliver. Look at you, you're sitting there, looking at your cunt bride-to-be, fingering her hairy pussy hole, knowing God knows who's been up there, and you don't even have a boner. Now, I kept my word, as I always do. You stripped naked, and I showed you your pig whore's photos. So, that's it. So it's back to your cell." I could not believe this. Was he shitting me? "Let's get these cuffs back on you for your journey to your cellmates." He ratcheted them back on. I was so close to reading her letter. Fucking shit! This can't be happening! I was trying to think quickly how I could get that letter. "But my clothes? I can't go back naked and cuffed? And ... the letter. Please, Sir, the letter. Martha's precious letter." He ignored me. But then paused and seemed to reconsider. The security guard was dismissed. There, alone with Johnny, the Captain removed the cuffs and told the prisoner to strip naked. He tricked Johnny into obeying because he told the prisoner that if he obeyed, he would get to read some of his mail from his soon-to-be-wed girlfriend, Martha. Johnny was shocked to hear he had mail. He was never given any mail during his last 4 years, and worst, he was told he relieved none. God, how his face lit up with surprise and joy when the Captain showed him a couple of photos Martha had sent him. One was even an artsy nude of her. But now, he was told there was also a letter. How he hungered to hear from his beloved Martha. Johnny would do anything to get information from any of his family, especially since he was told they had all abandoned him. When you cut off all outside communications, you can manipulate a prisoner to believe anything you want. Johnny was repeatedly informed that no one had even contacted him in this case. He felt alone and abandoned. But now, he learned of letters and photos! "Oh, Johnny, ... well ... since you are here and naked, at least I can check you out to see if you are staying healthy, get back against the wall again, spread your legs. That's right. Now, place your hands higher on the wall. That's a good white boy." Then he told me to turn this way and that way. He fondled every part of my naked body as if he was playing doctor or something. "Please, Sir? You said I could read my letter. If you let me read the letter, I promise to cooperate for as long as I am in this prison. Please, my Captain." As much as it reviled the Captain, he'd begged, using terms of endearment, "Please, my sweet Captain." I don't know if this was planned out, but the Captain looked like he had given in. He removed the cuffs and told me to sit in the chair. "Look, kid, you can either do this my way and be rewarded, or you can do it your way and... well, ... you'll be in our facilities for quite a while." Then the Captain returned to his desk, picked up the letter written on green stationery, and sat facing me in his chair. He scanned the letter from Martha. "Look, Johnny, you can't still be interested in what she says here about marrying you and that bit about your kid brother needing you desperately and ... Well ... it can't mean anything to you if you're lying about your feelings for ... for ... Martha." "Sir, I'm not lying. She means everything to me. I'm telling the truth. May I please read that letter, my sweet Captain?" I pleaded. "Now, Johnny boy, don't get upset. ... I'll tell you what. Since I kept my bargain on the first deal, where you voluntarily stripped naked, and I gave you her photos to see, .... I'll make you a second deal. You get an erection as you look at those photos and tell me what you really think of her, then I'll give you this letter from your cow-sow sweetie. Deal?" I could not believe him. I'm supposed to beat my dick in front of him? The Captain?! He in his full-dress uniform, less his coat, and me totally naked? Fucking shit! ... I could not speak; I just looked down at the floor. And my eyes became glossy again. "Johnny, it's just us. Just be honest. You say you love her, so show it. Tell me what she is to you. Go on before I send you back to your cell and destroy this letter. Your choice, Johnny." I don't know what I was thinking; I looked at my dick and saw that my hand was already on it, rubbing it and pulling on the soft fleshy, lifeless appendage. I had her nude photo in my right hand and was working my dick up. "That's it, Johnny, spread your knees wide apart. Let me see that lady killer fuck pole grow to its full potential. That's it, bitch boy." I don't know why I'm doing this. I haven't had sex for a long time. I saw myself starting to get bigger and longer and harder. Fuck, it did feel good. "You see? I guess you do love her. Now complete the bargain and tell me what a fat sow she is and how she likes to suck big fat dicks everywhere she goes, no matter what kind of creepy filthy slob wants to fuck her, how she eagerly strips naked and gets on her hands and knees. Maybe she gets 2 or 3 sleazeballs to plug all her whore holes. Let me hear you get honest for the first time in your relationship, Johnny." I stopped. My mouth fell open in shock, the photos dropped on the floor, my dick went limp, and I angrily shook my head. "No, no, never, she's not like that. She's not. She's wonderful. I told myself. She's a wonderful, loving Christian." I saw the Captain take his cigarette lighter out of his pocket, flick it a few times to get it to flame, and then bring it over to the hand holding Martha's letter. "I'm going to count to 10, and if your dick is not stiff again, and if I don't start hearing the truth from your cock-sucking Martha, ... this goes up in flames, and you can kiss your early release goodbye. One ... two ... three ... four ...." I was pounding my dick as fast as I could, trying to get it up again. There was absolutely nothing erotic about what the Captain was saying or doing or wanting me to do. It was all sick. He was a sick fuck hole. But I needed to read Martha's letter to survive, to regain my sanity and humanity. It started working. "See, my sweet Captain, I'm doing it. Just like you want. No need to burn it." "We'll see. But, ... lean back and stick your right finger up your asshole. Wiggle it. Doing that may prevent you from getting an expanded sentence here. That's it. See, your dick is getting nice and firm, and ... and ... look at that, Johnny, wow ... it's now like a steel pole, isn't it, bitch. Such white, slutty trash you are. Must run in the family. But ... I'm waiting to hear the truth. Johnny, keep pulling that dick and finger fucking your asshole, and start talking to me." Then the Captain continued his count very slowly, "Five... six ... seven .... eight ... nine ..." "I love my sweet pussy slut, Sir. She's a big fat cow whore, and she likes to get fucked up the ass by the attendant when she goes to the gas station, and when she goes to the mall, she finds three or four guys in the back loading docks, and she lets, ... no, ... she BEGS them to let her suck them off. She is nothing but a fucked-up bitch cunt slut, and she even eats out guys' asses, my sweet Captain, Sir. Just like you said." I was talking as fast as I could and saying the most disgusting things I could possibly imagine. All lies, but I have to play along to get her letter and not have extra time added to my sentence and to get this disgusting ordeal over with. "Don't stop, Johnny, keep that dick happy and my ears pleased. Tell me, does she like to drink guys' piss too? What's her favorite piss flavor? White guys' or black guys' or ... I'll bet its Mexican piss, ... right Johnny?" "Yes, Sir, my honorable Captain, you guessed it. She loves macho manly Mexican piss. Loves to swallow it. She guzzles piss down like Champagne." I learned to just agree and repeat all the Captain's suggestions. I was sweating and gasping, and I needed to cum so bad I wanted to shoot my cum all over his fucking face. I guess he knew I was close to climax because my chest was heaving, and I was gasping for quick breaths. "Hold on there, Johnny, you've convinced me. Just stop pumping that shotgun boner before you make a mess in here and all over yourself. How would you explain that to your cellmates... going back there all naked with fuck snot all over your chest and face? Geez! ... So don't cum. Just edge yourself so you stay hard. Take your finger out of your ass and suck it clean." I did. "That's a shit-eating faggot, and just stay hard as I talk to you. But easy on the trigger, there." I did as he told me, including cleaning the shit off my finger. When I stuck my finger in my mouth, I broke down and cried. I could not help it. All those mean, ugly things I just said about my saintly Martha. Oh God, I said to myself, I am so sorry. And he made me lick the shit off my finger. Tears flowed out as I continued to play gently with my stiff dick. "OK, Johnny, now I'm going to keep my word. Here's the letter." I finally stopped playing with my dick and reached out to get the green paper note, but the Captain pulled his hand back. "No, no, no, John Oliver. You must read the letter as you continue playing with your doggy bone. If it goes soft, just a little, I take the letter back and destroy it. Plus ... you have to read it out loud to me. Am I clear, boy?" "Please, Sir. Oh, my sweet Captain, can't I just take it back to my cell and ..." The Captain flashed me such a stern look I knew he meant business. "Yes, Sir, my honorable Captain," I said, again working on my dick and keeping myself on edge. The Captain nodded in approval as he handed me the letter again. "Dear Johnny," I read aloud, "I miss you so much. I miss your warm tender kisses and ..." "Stop!" The Captain yelled abruptly. "Your dick is not staying hard. I want it stiff. Do it now." There was anger in the Captain's voice, but was it a pretend anger? Was it all a part of his sadistic mind-control fucking games? I started to beat my dick more and move my hips in some synchronized jerkiness, working up a sweat and a hard dick, then the Captain motioned for me to continue. " ... your warm tender kisses, and your loving hugs and embraces. You mean so much to ..." I continued to read as I held the letter in my right hand and continued my controlled, methodical rubbing and teasing of my dick with my left hand. I was so humiliated... I was humiliated but hungry for Martha's loving, comforting words. I'd do anything to be allowed to read her letter. And I did. The Captain smiled and obviously enjoyed watching "his fag boy" beat his meat to keep his boner as stiff as he, the Captain, wanted it to be. My dick even dripped some precum in the process as I was holding myself on the lingering verge, just short of climax. When the letter was finished, I was exhausted and humiliated. My hand was still teasing my dick as if it was obeying the Captain without any conscious effort on my part. I looked into the Captain's smiling face, and I felt completely used, like his slut toy for his amusement, waiting for his all-consequential approval. "That was great, Johnny. I know it was an emotional letter. And, true to my word, you may keep it." Unbeknownst to me (I discovered much later), the Captain was keeping some 20 letters sent to me from Martha and my family members, all of which would serve as his future afternoon entertainment whenever he wanted to enjoy humiliating his American slut-hole inmate. "Thank you, Sir," I said with complete exhaustion. "My clothes? Please?" I asked as I stopped crying, thankful his ordeal was over and I'd be escorted back to my cell. I'd enjoy the comfort of re-reading this letter again and again in private. "Well, as for your clothes, you won't get any until tomorrow. But ... you don't want to read the letter from Michael? Well, .. okay, no problem Johnny, not an issue..." "What! I have a letter from my baby brother!" To be continued..... I will upload the next chapter in a few days. Let me know your comments and how you'd like this story progress. I'm open to suggestions as I write. My name is Bruce Darkforce, email is: gaydic@gmail.com Go to GayTies.com to find over a 100 stories of mine.