Date: Fri, 3 Aug 2012 15:57:30 -0400
From: d.a. w <daw62@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Professor's Practium

The Professor's Practicum

INTRODUCTION -- Chapter 1

As the Rolling Stones say in one of their great songs, "Please allow me to
introduce myself. I'm and man of wealth and taste..."

Well perhaps what would be wealth these days would not include me as I am
not in that favored "One Percent," but I am what might be called "well
fixed."  I am a professor at a university, and hold appointments in both
the school of law and also in the criminal justice department.  I have my
LLD and also a Ph.D. and so am fortunate to lead a comfortable life.

One of the activities that I like to do, and which provides me with free
lecture material is to help inmates in the state's prison system with their
appearances before the internal tribunals as well as assisting inmates with
their appeals of their original convictions.  I suppose that I enjoy using
the prison's rules to keep them from running roughshod over the inmates.
Before I came along prisoners had to rely on other inmates to serve as
their advocate, but these very good advocates had a disadvantage.  They had
just the department of correction's rules available to them to use, and of
course they themselves are subject the whims of the prison officers
themselves.  I had a couple advantages over these prisoner counselors.
Prisoner advocates had to be carful not to get themselves into trouble by
pushing too hard against the guards who had the power to make the life
hellish for any prisoner.  The other advantage I had was that I could, and
did, bring in broader legal concepts and apply them in a prisoner's
situation.  It was often claimed that a prisoner had no rights, but been
successful in getting a judge to order some rights such as self
incrimination to be extended even to citizens in the clutches of the prison
machinery.

This year I am on sabbatical for the whole year.  For the first semester I
was to complete an article for my law appointment, and the second I was to
do another article for the criminal justice appointment.  By some plotting
on my part, I used one article sufficiently changed for the two
constituencies to submit to scholarly journals in these two areas.  I have
been up front with the two, and they know that the basic article is being
used but the research can show applicability to important concepts of both
disciplines.

I was mowing the front yard when my neighbor across the street came across
the street.  He was just over six feet tall, and had that sculptured
athlete look.  He was in his blue police uniform, with an immaculately
white "T" showing through.  I also noticed his shoes were mirror -like in
their shine.  Since I had a gay man's interest in this type of perfect male
specimen, I had to be carful not to let my cock show interest in his
approach.

"Hi Andy" he greeted me.

"Hi Jim" was my conventional reply.

We had talked on several occasions, but we had not developed a real
"neighborly" relationship.  However his voice came over as concerned not
nosy.

"Did you retire or on you on some sort of leave?" Jim asked.

"Just on sabbatical this year." was my rather basic reply.

As I went ahead to explain the two sabbaticals linked together and the two
articles which I had sent off for peer evaluation, I added, "Right now both
articles are in review, and really I am pretty free."

We chatted a bit more, and finally I invited Jim to my back patio for some
wine or beer... me wine and Jim beer.

We chatted about neighborhood happenings, such as what houses were empty,
and whose yard was being let go to seed.  The neighborhood did have
unwritten but real standards for yard care.

After discussing these neighborhood trivia, Jim sort of sat back, and
grabbing his frosty bottle of beer, and took a good swig of it.

"You know some of my colleagues on the force sometimes ask me if you are
nasty to me because I am a police officer, since they seem to think that
you hate all policemen."  He had been looking at the table when he made
that statement, but looked up at me.  "I really did not come over here to
bring that up, but you have always seemed to me to be a pretty straight up
kind of guy.  I wonder if you would like to ride with me for a shift or
two.  You might learn some more about what a police officer actually does,
and perhaps some of my fellow cops would find out you are not a wild eyed
liberal just looking at every cop as a goon looking to beat up some
minority, and frame them for some crime."

I was somewhat shocked at his statement.  It seemed so spontaneous, and so
sincere, I knew that what he had just said was a thought just hatched in
reaction to our neighborly conversation.

"You need to ride around with me some evening and see what policing is all
about."  Jim added looking at me with such a friendly and sincere
expression that I could not think of refusing..

"I should I guess."  was my somewhat lame reply.  I was almost ashamed of
myself for not responding to his spontaneous offer to extend a hand of
friendship with something stronger - like "Great, I'd love to."

While I was still recovering and thinking of a response, Jim looked at me
again with those eyes filled with friendship and sincerity.

"Would you like to ride with me some night later this week?"

I thought about it and decided his point was a good one, and so I agreed.















Chapter 2

I ended up riding along with Jim three times and with two other officers I
met while on those famous "coffee and doughnut" breaks cops are known to
take.

After these experiences, Jim was back over again one evening and asked
"Well Andy, have these ride alongs with me and Chris and Duane changed any
of your opinions?"

"I would have to admit that I did get a much better view of all a police
officer does from the ride alongs" I admitted.



"I looked up some of your articles, and noticed you have written more
articles, and even letters of the editor about prison guards than about
city police officers.  Perhaps you should do some job shadowing for co's
also."

I said I would think about it.



That night I went to my secret hiding place and took out my fantasy
articles -- handcuffs, leg shackles, belly chains, and locked my ankles
with the shackles, and cuffed my hands in front of me.  I knew that I
needed to be able to "release" myself" the next morning.  My secret fantasy
and the secret reason for my obsession with criminal justice, and perhaps
even more for all my work was not altruism but my cock's desire to be
around chains, cuffs, prison bars, and men in their enforced jump suits or
other brown colored state issued prisoner clothes.  I climbed into bed and
jerked myself off to fantasies of chaining up some inmate and taking him to
some office for a hearing.

I imagined walking down a cell block, and looking into the cells,
officially to make sure nothing was going on in there that was against all
the prison's rules, but more to see the men locked up like animals...but
not as humanely as animals in the zoo... But cruelly not as equal animals,
but for me to be the powerful one and these much larger, better built,
dangerous men who had decided to break one of society's million rules, now
held in the custody...read almost ownership...by the state, and as a
representative of that state, under MY control.  I could look at them any
time I wished.  They had no rights of privacy.  If I looked in and they
were on those stainless steel combinations crapper and sinks, taking a
shit, or wiping up after a shit, they could do nothing about it.  I
imagined how powerless, and how totally demeaning it would be to know you
just had to accept that even a man's most private activities were no longer
private, but subject to observation by a person who might be smaller in
size, but was superior with the power of the state.

I imagined myself as the prisoner... locked in handcuffs and leg shackles
and being kept naked in a strip cell all on the whim of a guard.  Knowing
also that at almost any time I could be taken from the cell, and subjected
to being striped naked if I did have on my prisoner clothes, and being made
to open my mouth, move my cock and balls around, and even have my asshole
pulled open for observation.  As I had all these visions in my mind, my
hands found my little three inch cock and soon I exploded over myself.

I got up, walked into the bathroom happily listening to the clinking of the
leg shackle as I walked, and used a washrag to clean myself up.

I had told Jim I would have to think over his offer to let me play co, but
I knew from the moment he had offered me this fantasy fulfillment that I
knew the answer would be YES.  I also knew I would have to do this job
keeping my prick locked in a jock or everyone would know what a pervert I
was.

I did not hear from Jim for another week or so.  During this time I re-read
some of the prisoner stories on the internet.  I was currently engrossed in
one in which a nerd, and also a college grad from a good family ended up in
a maximum security hard labor prison.  This story was almost like my mind
projecting all my fantasies onto a page.  When I was in junior high school,
I was attacked by other two or three guys in my class.  In junior high they
wanted to tie me up in a cloak room, and in high school one guy came over
in the gym locker room and waved his cock in front of my head as I was
putting on my shoes, asking if I wanted to suck on his cock.  I was
embarrassed, and confused and just ignored that incident.  I was so
closeted that I did not even realize that I did want both to be tied up and
forced to suck cock.  In college I wanted to join a frat just to experience
Hell Week, but never had to nerve to do that either.

Fantasy was as close to my being used as a prisoner or slave as I had
allowed myself to experience.  However the idea I could walk around and
really be in total control of larger, stronger, and much more macho males
than myself was a cock rising and with just a bit of hand work, cock
pulsing fantasy.

Then one evening, I was just getting ready to move to the back patio for my
evening meal when I heard the front doorbell ring.  I usually do not answer
the doorbell, but I could look out without being seen to see if I really
wanted to check, and this time, I checked, and saw Jim at the door.

I answered the door, invited Jim in, and again looking over his very strong
and powerful appearance in that dark blue tight fitting uniform, decided I
would ask him to come out to the patio and offer him some beer, and perhaps
some finger food... No not finger food... that would be too gay.

I just said, "I'm about to go out to the patio for some wine and cheese and
crackers before dinner.  Would you like to come out and have a beer and
something to munch on?"

OK it was lame.  I knew it was lame, but I could not do better on the spur
of the moment.

""Ya, Thanks" was Jim's reply.

As soon as we both we sitting around the round table with its umbrella
shading us from the late afternoon sun, I brought out some wine for me and
some beer that I had purchased and kept in the fridge after Jim's first
visit in anticipation for a second visit.

"Man I am sorry" was Jim's opening comment after taking a swig of beer.

Jim looked up at me, but I did not say anything.

"I have asked all my contacts, and I could not swing a time as a co for
you.  With all the "x" military around, and the shitty job market, every
prison I contacted said that, if they would hire you in preference to some
x- MP even for a short time there would be hell to pay."

"I tried everything, and there is just no way for you to be even a `job
shadowing' for a co."

I could sense his distress.

"I can understand.  I can see that you tried everything.  It was a great
idea, and I really appreciate your idea and you're trying to help me get
the real life experience that might give me such a better idea of
corrections than I can get by interviews and surverys."

We sat quietly for a few moments -- me sipping my wine and Jim taking big
gulps of the beer.

 Finally out of my mouth came something right out of my libido.  "There are
only two ways to really know the reality of life in a prison.  There are
only two sides - being a co or the other side being an inmate, but there is
no way I can risk committing a crime and getting a record just for the
experience."

I looked over at Jim, who was looking directly at my face and specifically
directly into my eyes. I flinched.  I had opened an idea that was always in
the back of my mind.  I had allowed my secret fantasy of being a prisoner
or a slave to pop out in this idea of becoming a prisoner.

Jim was looking at me also, actually he was staring at me intently.  I
flinched and looked down again.  Did Jim realize that I wanted to be the
slave equivalent in the modern world -- a prisoner in a US prison?

Jim finally answered in a sort of slow and contemplative way.  "Nooo." He
said drawing out the word.  "No, that would not be something you would want
to have on your record.  Even a university would have a second thought with
their eminent professor becoming a felon."

"Well actually I know of at least two former inmates who are professors at
some universities -- mostly in the Criminal Justice Departments, but I do
not know of any who were at a university, who were then convicted and
imprisoned, and then were able to return to their old position after parole
or release."  I responded.

Did Jim find it unusual that I would know this fact, and that I had in fact
researched it?  I actually had much more detailed information about the
number and histories of former inmates in teaching positions, but did not
want to do into more detail.

Jim remained quiet, looking at me.  Then he seemed to come out of whatever
thoughts were going through his head, and sat back.

"Well sorry to be the bearer of bad news." Was his parting comment and he
rose and went toward the patio door.

"I see you are batching it still. ( I had noticed Jim's wife and kids were
away for a couple of weeks) Come over tomorrow and I will prepare dinner
for you as thanks for trying to help me out."  I offered as he rose.

"Ya, sounds good." was the reply.

Jim went through the house and opened the door.  As I arrived right behind
him, he said "Well, we'll keep the plan in mind, You never know what might
happen in the future."

I smiled, "Right.  See you tomorrow."

As I closed the door, I felt a massive urge to go to my secret stash of
chains -- belly chain, leg shackles, and handcuffs, and even a set of
actual Georgia whites with their distinctive blue stripe down the leg that
I had purchased on line.  I waved through the window, and dashed upstairs
to make myself a chained Georgia convict.