From Montana I headed into Wyoming. It also has some great mountain
roads but, unlike Montana,
they have speed limits…
I was
having a great time on a stretch of road when a sports bike appeared in my rear
vision mirror and then shot past. I continued along the road and saw the
sportsbiker again parked beside the road a couple of kilometres later. He
pulled back on the road behind me and sat behind me for a couple of km. He then
shot past. Normally I wouldn’t have given it a second though, except today something
inside me snapped and I decided to take him on. I don’t think my friends would
have believed it if I told them, as I have a bit of a reputation as “Captain
Slow”.
We
continued along the road for a few more kilometres at well over the speed limit
when I spotted a Sheriff’s car coming the other way. Its blue and red lights
came on but there was no where for it to turn around as it was a very twisty
section of road. For some stupid reason I continued to chase the sports biker.
We continued for a few more kilometres until our way was blocked by two
Sheriff’s cars parked across the road. Four deputies were standing by the cars
with their guns out. The sportsbiker and I braked heavily coming to a stop in
front of the cars. One spoke into his car’s mike coming out over a PA.
“Park
your bikes beside the road. Kill your engines, remove your helmets and walk
over to the closest car. Place your hands on the trunk.”
I never
argue with someone pointing a gun at me and I did as I was told, as did the
sportsbiker. He was a real looker, a similar height and build to me, short
blonde hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a one piece red, white and black set
of leathers with red racing boots.
A couple
of the deputies patted us down and cuffed our hands behind our backs, palms
out. I realised I was probably in deep shit but I was also feeling really
horny, handcuffed beside a cute leather clad handcuffed biker, surrounded by really
stunning looking deputies.
“Wait
there boys, the Sheriff wants to deal with you personally.”
It
sounded rather ominous.
A few
minutes later I heard the siren of the Sheriff’s car and saw it arrive; it was
the car we’d passed down the road. The Sheriff got out of his car and walked up
to us.
“Where
the hell do you boys think you are, this ain’t Montana? This is Wyoming where we have speed limits and we
respect speed limits. I’m sick of having biker boys like you thinking you can
treat my county as a race track. Well we have ways of dealing with you. Do you
have anything to say for yourselves?”
We both
nervously replied, “No sir.”
He turned
to one of the deputies and said, “Go get the special restraints from my car,
these boys are going to spend some time in the special facility.”
“What do
you plan to do with us Sheriff?” asked my fellow biker.
The
Sheriff moved his face ride up to the biker’s face. “First of all boy, you will
learn to speak only when spoken to, second, you’ll find out in good time.”
The
deputy returned from the Sheriff’s car carrying two heavy sets of irons. These
looked very serious. They consisted of an iron collar attached to a chain.
About halfway along were a pair of wrist manacles, at the end a pair of leg irons.
I was both scared and excited at the same time.
While
this was going on, a large van arrived. Two deputies got out of the van and
started to load our motorcycles into the back.
“OK get
these boys secure for transport”
Two of
the deputies started to lock the chains on us. They started by locking iron
collars around our necks. They next locked on the leg irons. Our handcuffs were
removed and our wrists locked in the manacles, in front of us. The other two
deputies produced leather muzzles which they strapped over our heads. These
effectively clamped our jaws shut preventing speech. They walked us over to the
Sheriff’s car. The chains felt amazing. They were quite heavy and left you in
no doubt that you were restrained. I had a huge hard on and noticed a bulge in
my “friend’s” leathers. We were pushed into the back seat and our seat belts
were strapped on. Black canvas hood were placed over our heads. I heard the car
doors close and the Sheriff drove off.
We drove
for some distance. From time to time I heard the clank of chains from my fellow
prisoner. My cock was still rock hard.
I felt
the car slow down and turn. We then headed along an unpaved road for a few
minutes until the car stopped. We continued on for a short distance on a paved
road before the car stopped again. I heard the car doors open. Someone undid my
seatbelt and removed my hood. Two men in black SWAT style uniforms” helped” us
out of the car. I blinked in the bright sunlight. It looked like we were inside
a jail. We had stopped inside a large yard, with a high wall all around topped
with razor wire and punctuated guard towers. In front of us was a long single
story stone building. The windows were barred horizontal slits.
The
Sheriff spoke. “Boys, as I said before, we don’t tolerate bikers like you who
have no respect for our speed limits and you’re going to learn how justice
works in my county. We found that writing tickets wasn’t helping things so I’ve
reopened the old county jail. I’ve found that a week here is usually enough to
teach bikers like you the error of their ways. Oh, and don’t think about giving
your guards trouble. Each one carries a stun gun.” One of the guards removed
his stun gun from his belt and showed it to us like a quiz show “barrel girl”
showing off one of the prizes. It was a very evil looking device and I made a
mental note that I didn’t want to find out how it worked. “And don’t think you
can grab one of these from a guard, each one is coded to a particular guard’s thumbprint.”
While the
Sheriff was speaking to us, I saw an open topped truck bus pull into the yard. I
saw about a dozen guys sitting on benches that lined the perimeter of the tray.
All were around my age, height and build. They were wearing bright yellow
jumpsuits and black work boots and I noted there were leg irons over the work
boots. In addition they had iron collars around their necks which were
connected by chains and their hands looked like they were locked behind their
backs. The guards on the back of the truck then unlocked the inmates’ leg irons
from the floor of the truck while another two guards waited, stun guns in hand,
at the bottom of the ramp that had been lowered from under the floor of the
truck . The inmates were led down the ramp and I saw that their hands were
shackled behind their backs with manacles. I watched them as they shuffled into
a door at the far end of the jail. So this was what we were in for!
Each
guard produced a leash and clipped it to our iron collars. We were led inside
the jail. We were led inside a cell and told to sit. Our leg irons were
padlocked to ring bolts set in the floor.
One of
the guards spoke. “We’re just going to change your irons around, I wouldn’t try
to resist if I was you.”
With my
legs locked to the floor I didn’t think I’d achieve much anyway. The guards
started with me. They unlocked my collar and wrists. The chain was rearranged
and I was told to put my hands behind my back. My wrists were then locked
behind my back and my iron collar relocked. A chain was added locking the iron
collar to a ring bolt on the wall behind me. Once I had been relocked the guard
did the same to the other biker. Our gags were removed.
“OK boys,
we’re going to leave you here for a while to reflect on what you’ve done before
we start your punishment.”
They
locked the door to the cell and left us.
The other
biker’s name was Scott. He was from San Diego
and was spending a few weeks touring the western United States. He said “I don’t
know about you but being chained up like this in my leathers is making me as
horny as hell.”
“Me too!”
I replied.
“Could
you do me a huge favour?” asked Scott. “I can do the same for you if you want.”
“Sure
thing” I replied.
We’d been
chained so we were right next to each other, so with a bit of manoeuvring I was
able to line my chained hands up to Scott’s crotch. Fortunately his leathers
had a two way zipper so I was able to gain access to his cock, which was
already rock hard. I started to jerk him off eventually building up to orgasm.
He shot a huge load, which hit the floor in front of us. I then got his cock
back inside his leather and refastened his zip.
“Thank
you so much! That was brilliant!” He sighed. “Give me a moment and I’ll return
the favour.
Scott
shuffled himself around so his hands now lined up with my cock. (I was wearing
two piece leathers.) He got my fly undone and started to work on my cock. It
was wonderful having him work me over. He gradually built me up until I felt my
whole body shake until I had a huge orgasm. I too shot a huge load which landed
on the floor in front of us. Scott then got my cock back inside my leathers.
“Thankyou
mate, that was sooo good!”
We sat in
silence for a few minutes, then Scott spoke.
“Do you
think we’ll get into trouble for this?”
“Judging
from the Sheriff’s attitude, I think that’s highly likely but hell, I really
needed that and I’ll just have to face the consequences.”
“Me too.”
Replied Scott
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