prisonbondage:My name is Chase Matthews. Until a few hours ago, that would have been Sergeant Chase
prisonbondage:My name is Chase Matthews. Until a few hours ago, that would have been Sergeant Chase Matthews ofthe Philadelphia PD… but not now. Today started out like any other day. I woke up, headed into work at the precinct, and began cataloging someevidence from the overnight drug crimes unit. Here is where things start to go wrong. For the past year, I have also been on the payroll of El Tuco, theinfamous Philly drug kingpin. I earn $25Ka month to “mistakenly” catalog evidence incorrectly- all under the table andhidden, or so I thought. But this morning, my luck ran out. Just as I contaminated a few specimens, Iheard the unmistakable sound of a door opening and guns drawing. “Matthews, get your hands up, you are underarrest!” I was cornered. My hands went up and I knew this would not begood. They threw me to the ground andput on handcuffs and leg irons faster than I’ve ever seen. Those cuffs were tight, too. I had always felt so powerful in my copuniform and black tactical boots… but with the restrains on it felt very different. After having my rights read, and a short ride to CentralProcessing, I was taken into the holding area just like any common criminal. Allthe deputies who I had known as colleagues now looked at me like scum. I swear my strip search was extra thorough,too. After that was done, they handed mea jumpsuit. I instantly recognized thegreen and white pattern- they were sending me to solitary confinement! Just as if the deputy read my mind, he said “Yeahyou piece of shit, lots of time to think about how you screwed us all over.” “Also, I may have ‘forgotten’ to includeunderwear,” he added with a grin. I pulled on the jumpsuit, snapped up the front, and kneltdown to slip into the white canvas bitch slippers. Next, the deputy re-applied the leg ironsaround my ankles, connecting them to a waist chain, and finally adding the handcuffs. I had never felt so restricted in my life…the chains, the uniform, my junk brushing against the scratchy canvas jumpsuit,all of it meant my life had changed forever. Quite the contrast… starting the day as a powerful cop, in uniform, andbig bulky boots, and eating cold lunch off a plastic tray in a jail cell, dressedlike a convicted clown, chained hand and foot, shuffling around in white bitchslippers. I guess I should get used tothis, though. State prison isn’t goingto be any better for the next few decades. -- source link
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