By Scribe

Earlier we published the brochure for Discipline Technologies’ “Slave Punishment System” — a prison cell designed to discipline extremely disobedient slaves. We have since had the opportunity to interview an individual who experienced the inside of the cell. Here is his story.

I enjoy bondage. Most of my experience has been short term bondage in sleepsacks, hoods, straightjackets, and chastity cages. I also like some pain, flogging, and single-tail whipping. But my go-to fantasy has always been long term imprisonment, solitary confinement, and sensory deprivation with guards subjecting me to new torments. That why I immediately got a hard on when I read the brochure describing the Slave Punishment System offered by Discipline Technologies. Here I could live my fantasy for 7 to 30 days in solitary confinement with various tortures inflicted by automated equipment and software.

I contacted the company and found their location was about 1,000 miles away in the warehouse district of a major city. I’m retired, so I have no scheduling difficulties. They had a cell available the next month. I chose the indeterminate sentence option where I agreed to pay for 10 days and give the company the option to extend my incarceration for up to another 20 days.

I sent them a check and preauthorized a charge to my checking account to pay for any additional days of confinement. We agreed to the date, and I purchased a one-way airline ticket. I would purchase my return flight when I was released from the cell.

I was horny all month waiting for my incarceration date. The company ordered me to wear a chastity cage for two weeks prior to my visit to conserve my sexual energy. They told me to bring nothing but the clothes on my back, ID, and $50 for spending money at the airport, coming and going. The company agreed to pick me up at the airport.

Upon arrival, we drove to a secluded location where the burly driver handcuffed me and pulled on a heavy leather isolation hood, strapping it on tightly. The hood included a large gag and a strap clamping my mouth tightly over the gag. I guess I was not allowed to know the location of the cells or make any noise protesting my pending imprisonment. Not that I had any complaints. My cock tried to get an erection inside of my cage. I was made to lie on the back seat floor.

It didn’t take long to reach the facility. The car drove into a warehouse garage, and I was marched hooded and cuffed to a reception room. My hood and cuffs were removed, and I saw a man seated at the other side of a desk. He was tall, thin but muscular, with dark hair, mustache, and a beard. He wore black leathers and boots.

“My name is Mr. Hawkins. I understand you are here to experience our Slave Punishment System. You can address me as Sir or Mr. Hawkins.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I am the owner of Discipline Technologies. I like to meet the slaves who come to us for punishment. You understand that you’ll be in a solitary confinement cell for at least 10 days made to endure some refined punishments. You can’t stop the punishment or leave the cell once the door closes. There are no safe words or appeals.”

“I understand, Sir.”

“You have also indicated that you want the indeterminate sentence, which means you could serve an additional 20 days if we decide that it’s merited.”

“Yes, Mr. Hawkins.”

“I appreciate having volunteers like you. It allows us to observe your reactions and refine our software and equipment. We found there is a much bigger market for our product overseas. We sell mostly to foreign prisons, where there are no prohibitions against cruel and unusual punishments. We call our product the Prisoner Discipline System, but it is the same package you will be experiencing. Some prisons buy several cells. They find subjecting new inmates to a few days or weeks in our cells quickly changes their attitudes and they become model prisoners. The inmates know the punishment cells are waiting for them if they step out of line. But selling overseas means we can’t observe or interview the victims of our system. That’s why I appreciate your visit.”

He continued, “Here are the papers you need to sign. One is a liability waiver for any injuries. The other is the actual contract describing the terms and conditions of your 10-day confinement and our option to hold you for up to an additional 20 days. You acknowledge that you are doing this voluntarily without duress.”

I was so excited to begin that I barely read the papers and quickly signed them.

“There is one more item to consider,” Hawkins stated. “We offer some additional gear that can make your experience even more intense. Just go down the list and check any equipment you would like us to add to your installation.”

The first item was thumb cuffs. I said no, too painful.

The next item was a 4-inch posture collar. I thought that sounded an interesting addition to the bondage. I said yes to that.

Next, I could replace the standard shackles with wrist and ankle cuffs having internal spikes. I thought that could get really uncomfortable over 10 days. I passed.

I could also get ankle cuffs with external spikes, which would make sitting or kneeling more difficult. I thought what the heck, I’ll give them a try.

I could have a screen installed to lower the ceiling height in the cell to only 5 feet. I’m 6 feet tall and didn’t want to crouch the whole time I was in the cell, so I said no.

Finally, I could have a parachute harness attached to my balls with a cable running to the floor of the cell. I kind of like my balls stretched, so I checked that option yes.

I was then taken to a prep room by the driver who brought me to the company. I guess he also worked as a guard in the facility. He looked like a bodybuilder not to be messed with. He told me my name was now Slave 89. I was ordered to strip naked. My clothes, wallet, and keys were placed in a large plastic bag with my name along with my cock cage.

“We’ll have a smaller one for you with more features,” he said. He then told me to shower in the adjoining bath and use the douche to completely clean out.

I was then marched to the cell, a little embarrassed by my raging hard-on. Mr. Hawkins appeared and said he liked to oversee the slave’s installation. The cell was intimidating. It was a solid steel box with a solid steel door. There wasn’t even an observation hole or a food tray slot. Attached to the outside of the cell was a smaller steel box, which Hawkins said contained the computer and equipment necessary for my stay.

Since I was a volunteer, Hawkins said he would show me how the Slave Punishment System operated. If, after the explanation, I decided I didn’t want to go through with it, I would have one last chance to cancel. Hawkins opened the control box. There was an e-stim unit that delivered shocks to the slave (me) in the cell. There also was a bubble bottle which was half full of what looked like urine. A hose ran from the bottle into the cell. “You’ll be smelling piss for the duration of your stay.”

Two additional small hoses were attached to the bubble bottle going to two compressed gas canisters. “These will send tear gas or pepper spray to your mask.”

The control panel had a dial showing numbers from 7 to 30. “Once the number of days is selected and this lock button is pushed, the cell door and the control panel will lock and cannot be opened until the time expires. This prevents anyone from stopping, interrupting, or diminishing the punishment programed for you.”

He set the dial to 10. “If an additional stay is granted, we will reset the dial for another 1 to 20 days.”

A large battery took up a lot of the space in the control box. “This battery will power the system in case of an electrical outage. Your punishment will continue without interruption.”

On top of the control box were two tanks, one with water and the other with a white liquid. “This is a nutritionally balanced protein drink. Both are pumped to you by a tube running to your mouth.”

The guard opened the cell door, all solid stainless steel with only a floor drain in the middle. The cell was small, maybe 6 feet by 6 feet. I would only be able to take a step or two in either direction. Hanging from a hoist in the ceiling was a chain attached to two metal wrist manacles lined with rubber and joined by a very short chain. On the floor were two ankle shackles, very heavy and also lined with rubber. I saw my requested ball parachute with a cable attached to an eye bolt in the floor. The cable from the control box ran to a metal cock cage. The hose from the bubble bottle and the small tube from the drink tanks were attached to a gas mask, also lying on the floor. A single dim light bulb in a metal cage illuminated the cell.

This is the kind of cell I had always fantasized about. I was getting very excited and noticed I was leaking precum. Hawkins and the guard smiled sadistically. “Are you ready to be begin, Slave 89? This is your last chance to cancel.”

I nodded my head and said, “I’m ready, Sir.”

I was told to stand in the middle of the cell with my back to the chain and wrist restraints. The manacles were clamped and locked around my wrists. The chain was long enough that I could stand comfortably but I could not sit or lie down without stretching my arms behind my back. Then the ankle cuffs with the external spikes were locked on. There was no chain between them, and they were not attached to anything. The guard explained, “These will make the strappado, where your arms are raised behind you back, more painful by adding additional weight to your legs.”

Next the parachute harness was attached above my ball sack and the cable from the floor was attached to the ring. The cable had a spring on both ends allowing me to move around the cell but still causing a painful pull on my balls the farther I moved from the center.

Next was the cock cage. I was still hard. “We’ll never fit you in like that, so I brought a bag of ice just in case,” said the guard. I yelped as the cold pack was applied, but eventually they got my dick in the cage. It was a narrow device, firmly gripping my cock while flaccid. There were two copper strips on each side of the cage. The cap on the end of the device had spikes in addition to the pee hole. The cage wasn’t too uncomfortable until I started to get hard again.

Finally the head gear was applied. First ear plugs were inserted followed by heavy gauze taped over my ears. A latex hood was stretched over my head and had an open face. To this a gas mask was stretched and buckled forming an airtight seal. The feeding tube was inserted through a rubber gasket and placed in my mouth.

“A small light will come on inside the mask alerting you to prepare to drink.”

I could breathe easily until the hose running to the bubble bottle was attached. I then had to concentrate on taking deep breaths to move the air through the bottle and hose. The smell of urine filled the mask. I could easily exhale through a one-way valve at the bottom of the mask. The plastic eye lenses were cloudy, allowing me to see light but no details.

To this was added the 4-inch posture collar, pushing my head back and limiting almost all movement to my head and neck. The collar also had four external spikes protruding about 12 inches.

“I think that completes your installation, Slave 89.” Hawkins sneered. “Enjoy your stay.” With that the door was slammed shut, and I heard an electronic click as the locks were engaged. The light went out, and I was immediately plunged into darkness. I looked toward the door and the hoses going into the wall, but there was no glimmer of light anywhere.

The first sensation I felt was a buzzing in the chastity cage. It was not unpleasant, however. The intensity began to build as a pulsing sensation from the back of my dick to its head. I started to feel waves of pleasure. I thought this is a surprise, as I believed this cell would be about punishment only. My cock started to grow, hitting the spikes at the end of the cage. The pain, however, seemed to only get me more excited.

The device kept stroking me. The stimulation and excitement of being in the cell plus two weeks of chastity really made me want to cum. I struggled to reach my dick but of course my hands were securely chained behind my back. My dick kept trying to expand in the cage. I thought I could rub my cock against the wall. I took a step and a half but the spikes on my collar kept my dick from just reaching the wall. My balls were being pulled, which seemed to add to my excitement. I thought maybe I could rub my cock on the floor. I stepped back to the center and kneeled. My arms were pulled up by the chain. I couldn’t lie flat, however, as the chain was not long enough to reach the floor without dislocating my shoulders. It seemed like everything was designed to frustrate any attempt to achieve relief. The pulsing and stroking continued. I was going crazy. Sweat was pouring down my face and body. I thought surely I could force an ejaculation. But the narrow cage and short length kept me from doing anything other than dripping precum. I finally cried “please stop.” I then got a painful shock. I forgot that I was not allowed to make any sound.

After what seemed to be an eternity, the stroking stopped. I tried to calm down and take as many deep breaths as I could through the gas mask. After a few minutes the chain behind my back began to rise pulling my arms back. As it rose, I had to stand on my toes to avoid additional pain. The chain stopped and I was left standing with my shoulders lowered. The wide posture collar limited the ability to lower my head. It also made breathing more difficult. I began to regret my decision to wear a wider collar. It was going to make this torment much harder to endure. As time went on, my arms, shoulders and neck began to ache more and more. Just when I thought I couldn’t stand it anymore, the chain lowered slightly to take some of the pressure off. After a brief so-called rest, the chain rose again. I noted that when I tried to shift my weight or position to relieve some of the pressure, the chain would adjust slightly to keep me in a painful stretch. I figured there must be a sensor under my feet to ensure the chain would be adjusted to maximize my misery.

After what seemed like ages, the chain lowered. It kept going down until I could sit or lie down on the steel floor. But I couldn’t really do that. The spikes on the collar keep me from reclining my head to the floor. The external spikes on my leg irons kept me from sitting or kneeling comfortably. I ended standing back up. At least my arms were no longer stretched.

Soon, however, a new torment started. Instead of just smelling piss, the gas mask filled with an irritating gas. My eyes began to water and I started coughing. I tried to close my eyes as tight as I could but my throat started burning and my nose began running. I tried to reach my face to tear the gas mask off and rub my eyes, but of course that was not possible. Again I tried to reach the wall to knock the mask off but the spikes on the collar again kept me from reaching the wall. Same with the floor. As I struggled around the cell my balls were stretched by the movement. Finally the gas began to clear but suddenly it became very hard to breathe. I remembered the valve in the control box could restrict the air coming from the hose and bubble bottle. I concentrated on pulling as much air as I could through the mask. I quickly got a headache. Just when I thought I might pass out, I could breathe again.

When my cock cage began vibrating again, I thought I might enjoy another edging session. This time was going to be different, however. The shocks started building in intensity until they became quite painful. I started shouting, which only resulted in stronger shocks. I had to learn to keep quiet. No one could hear my screams anyway in the heavily insulated cell. Even if someone could hear me, they could do nothing to help me. The cell door and control box were sealed for 10 days. The computer would continue its programed punishment without sympathy or interruption. The rhythm and intensity of the shocks varied so I never knew what the next sensation would be. Sometimes the electro would stop, only to resume again with even greater force. Again, I danced around the cell like a madman trying to knock the cage or cable off to no avail. My dick was sore and I was exhausted when the shocks finally stopped.

I was left standing for some time. While I appreciated that no active punishments were taking place, the darkness and silence began to get to me. I’m not usually claustrophobic. I like hoods and sleepsacks, but the heavy gas mask, lack of any light or sound, and trying to breathe through the bubble bottle made it feel like the walls were closing in on me. I also feared the torture would start up again when I least expected it. While I knew my feet were on the floor, I still felt a sense of vertigo, not knowing which way was up.

I soon found new horrors awaited me. The punishments began to run together. My arms were lifted at the same time the shocks began. This caused me to jerk around making the strappado even more painful. The shocks would stop but then gas would fill the mask causing my eyes and throat to burn while still pulling my arms and balls as I danced around the cell trying to find relief. My wrists and arms would lower but the shocks would begin again. Finally all three tortures would occur together, driving me crazy. I screamed in spite of the shocks I knew my cries would cause.

Finally the torments stopped. I found I could sleep, more like pass out, for brief moments crouched on the cell floor. The rest periods never seemed to last very long, however. A blinking light alerted me that liquid food or water would be delivered. The taste was not pleasant, however. The water was sour and the protein drink was fishy. I guess no unpleasant sensation would be spared.

I soon lost track of all time. Everything seemed to occur randomly. The punishments would sometimes be short, other times they seemed to go on endlessly. There seemed to be no pattern to feeding times or resting times. I had no idea how long I had been in the cell or when my sentence would end. I suffered in darkness most of the time, but every once in a while the light would come on. This was painful after the long blackout period. I would shut my eyes as tight as I could until I could adjust to the light. Then the bulb would turn off again.

After what seemed an eternity, the light came on again. This was not, however, the usual exercise to maintain my vision as I heard the cell door click open. “Thank God, it’s over,” I cried. I never wanted something so much as my release from this torture cell. Mr. Hawkins came in and pulled off my gas mask. “Thank you, Sir. Thank you, Sir. I’m so ready to get out of here and go home.”

Mr. Hawkins said, “Wait a minute, I need to evaluate your physical and mental health.” He asked me questions like, “What city are you in?”

I gave him the name of the city.

“What is your name?”

“Slave 89, Sir.”

“No, what is your real name?”

I told him.

“What is your address?”

I had to think a minute, my mind was so muddled, but I told him my home address.

“Who is the president?”

I named the current president.

“I think you are mentally sound,” said Mr. Hawkins.

The burly guard came into the cell and took my vital signs, temperature, blood pressure, etc. After confirming the results, Mr. Hawkins stated with a gleam in his eyes, “I find you physically and mentally fit and order another 10-day stay in the cell.

“No, no,” I screamed, “You can’t do that!”

Hawkins said, “Per your contract for an indeterminate sentence, I can and I will.”

“No, no, no, I can’t stand this any longer, please release me, I’m revoking the contract. Please, Sir, show me some mercy.”

Hawkins smiled. “This cell is about punishment,” he said. “We don’t know the meaning of the word mercy.”

“Please,” I said, “I’ll pay you double or triple what I agreed to pay you for additional time. Just tell me your price for release and I will pay it, I promise.”

“Are you trying to bribe me?” Hawkins shouted. “This is totally unacceptable. I’m ruling you a disorderly prisoner and unrepentant slave. Per our contract I can add additional gear to make your next 10 days even more miserable. I will also adjust the software to make your punishment periods even longer and more severe.”

He then brought in a pair of thumb cuffs and joined my hands together and tightened the clamps. Pain began immediately. Hawkins then produced tit clamps. The springs were strong, and I started yelling as soon as they were applied. The guard brought in a metal grid the length and width of the cell and slid it into channels on the side walls. He fed the strappado chain through a hole in the grid. This effectively lowered the ceiling to 5 feet. I had to bend my legs to lower my head. The posture collar prevented me from bending my head. After a few minutes my knees began to ache and I fell to my knees, which then painfully raised my arms. I quickly realized this predicament bondage would quickly become unbearable.

“Enjoy your next 10 days, Slave 89,” laughed Hawkins and the guard as they reapplied the gas mask.

I was too weak to fight them. They slammed the cell door, and I faintly heard them tinkering in the control box. There was a click of the electronic locks, and I knew I was sealed in the cell for another 10 days with no hope of escape. The light when out and I was plunged into darkness. The hoist began to raise my arms while I received a blast of pepper gas from the hood.

“Nooooooo,” I screamed, as a bolt of electricity fried my cock.

The End