I was busted carrying weed. It wasn't enough to go to jail for, but it was enough to get into enough trouble over. Since it was my first offense, the judge reduced it to a misdemeanor, gave me a fine, ordered me into rehab, and gave me one year of probation. If I stayed clean and out of trouble for the year I would be all done. It sounded fair to me so I took the deal.

Rehab was easy. It was just group therapy for twelve weeks. Probation seemed to go well too. I would go to my parole officer's office once a week and wait in the waiting room for over an hour, than he would call me, ask me if I was keeping out of trouble than escort me to the bathroom where he watched over my shoulder as I gave my weekly urine sample. It was all going good.

One day I heard on a heavy knock on my apartment door.

"Who is it?" I called out through the door.

"Parole Officer Smith," answers a gruff voice, "open the door."

I was shocked to hear his voice. I opened the door and he pushes his way past me. He's a big guy. I'm over 6 feet tall and he's at least as tall as I am and he's still bigger than I am, over 300 hundred pounds. He looks like an ex-football player with a shaved head and a thick goatee. He's wearing a shirt with a tie and jeans like I've always seen him wearing in the office but he's wearing a gun belt.

"Can I help you?"

"It's a routine house check."

"I didn't know anything about a house check."

"You're on parole, surprise house checks come with the deal."

"Okay," I know I don't have anything illegal in my place, "you can look around."

"I don't need your permission. This is just part of my job. The faster we get this started, the faster I'll be out of here."

"I'm sorry, sir," I tell him, "I don't mean to be disrespectful."

"Let's get this started. It starts with a strip search. Take off your socks and turn them inside out."

"I thought this was a house check."

"And you're in the house. Do you want to get busted for violating your parole?"

"No sir." I take off my socks and turn them inside out.

"Take off your shirt and toss it to me." I do as he says. He looks at me and nods. "Take off your pants and toss it to me." I do as he says. He checks the pockets than throws them on to the floor. "Take off your underwear and throw it to the side." I hesitate for a second than I just obey. I stand in front of him totally naked and he looks me over. I'm not shy but all this is very intimidating. "Good. Turn a! round and place your hands on your head."

"What?"

"I have to make sure you are secured as I check the house. Turn around and place your hands on your head," he says again with a firmer tone. I turn around and place my hands on my hand. I feel him walk up to me and he cuffs one of my wrists and twists my arm to my back. He's not gentle and the handcuff is on tight. He twists my other arm and finishes cuffing my hands behind my back. He takes a step back, "turn around." I turn around. "Good. Stay there as I toss your house."

He pulls at some rubber gloves from his pockets and pulls them on to his hands with a snap. He starts to go through my apartment. He takes everything off the shelves, pulls out the cushions from the sofa and chairs. He goes through everything and makes a mess. I don't even care that much. I don't own that much and I'm too busy trying to suppress my hard on. Being cuffed and naked is making that difficult.

He finishes up wrecking my place and walks back to me. "Good. You don't have any contraband." He worked up a sweat; there are some beads of sweat on his forehead. "There is just one part left, the cavity search." Before I could respond he grabs me by the elbow and takes me to my kitchen table. He kicks my leg further apart and bends me over on the table. I hear him squirt some lube on his finger and he jams his finger up my ass. It takes my breath away. He pulls out his finger than rams two finge! rs up my ass. I don't know what he is looking for but he keeps his fingers up there for a while. He finds my prostate and starts to rub it. I get an instant erection and give out a moan. He pulls out his fingers and turns me around and looks down at my manhood. "Did you like it, faggot boy?" I don't answer. He grabs me hard by my checks. "Did you like it?" I don't answer again. He rubs his thumb on my lips and he's staring at me with a hungry look in his eyes. He forces his thumb into my m! outh and I start to suck on it. With his other hand, he pulls out a collapsible baton from his gun belt and with a snap of his wrist it extends. He than uses it to tab on my balls as I suck on his thumb. "You like this don't you?"

He steps back and drops the baton and just looks at me. He unbuckles his gun belt and drops it on to the ground. He pulls off his tie than unbuttons each button on his shirt slowly. His chest is slowly revealed to me. He has a hairy chest with big man-tits and a gut that hangs over his jeans. He pulls off his shirt and walks back up to me and grabs me by the back of the head and lifts his left arm over his head. "Do you smell that? That the smell of a real man." He pushes my head into his armpit and I take a good whiff of it. "Lick it. Lick the sweat from my pits." I do as he tells me. The scent is intoxicating. When he thinks I'm done, he forces me to clean out his other arm pit the shoves me back and grabs hold of my nipples and gives them a hard twist. He uses them to pull me to him than uses his guts to push me back all the while trying to twist my nipples clear off my chest. I wince and moan but can't do anything to defend myself with my hands still cuffed behind my back. He shoves me back and unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his button fly jeans and pulls out his manhood. It's not very long but it's thick. He looks at my cock than knees me in the balls. I fall to my knees and he grabs me by the back of my head and guides my mouth to his cock. He forces me to swallow it all and he just holds my head. My nose is buried in his pubes and I can feel his cock swelling in my throat. He just keeps holding my head as it gets bigger and almost cuts off my breathing. He pulls out and I take a gasp for air. He pets my head for a while than bends down and takes a handful of my balls. He uses them to force me to stand up. My balls are going to be hurting tomorrow. "You have a nice cock," he tells me, "I'm going to do something I do! n't usually do." He drops to his knees and uses my balls to pull my cock into his mouth. He starts to suck my dick. He's very good at it but all the time he has my balls in a vice grip. It hurts. This is such a weird combination of pain and pleasure. He stops and stands up and forces me to turn around and he kicks my legs apart and slams me on to the kitchen table again. There is a pause and I hear his open up a condom wrapper and I feel the head of his stubby penis against my asshole. "Do you want this? " I don't answer. He reaches around and starts to stroke me. "Do you want this?"

"Yes."

He pushes into me. I've taken longer than his up my ass but his dick is as thick as a soda can. It hurts as I feel my asshole stretch. He doesn't stop until I feel his hips against my ass and his gut on my back. He places his hands on my shoulder and starts to fuck me. He's a hard fucker, ramming into me as the pace quickens. The table starts to move with each pounding fuck. He starts to moan than he rams his cock deep into me and I feel his reach orgasm. "Yeah," he says over and over again as I feel his cock throbbing in my ass. He keeps pushing into me until it's over. He pulls out me and reaches around and jerks me off. I cum quick and he squeeze my cock as the sperm shoot out of it. He keeps squeezing until I'm done. He turns me around and makes me lick off my cum from his hand. "On your knees," he orders me. I obey. He pulls off his condom and throws it at me. He pulls up his jeans and buttons them up. He buckles his belt. Than he grabs his gun belt and puts that on. He collapses his baton and places it on a slot on the! belt. The grabs his shirt and tie and just slings it over his shoulder. "Stand up and turn around." I obey. He takes off the handcuffs than force me back down to my knees. "Stay on your knees until I'm gone, "I hear him start to leave, "and next week, don't wear underwear for your parole visit." I hear the door close.

I can't wait for my next visit to my parole officer.