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.