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Story

The WORC Program – Part 10

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By Joshua Ryan

So that’s the way it was, as — what do they say? — the days stretched into weeks and the weeks stretched into months. If this was a movie, there would be a calendar with the pages flipping past. No reason to stop at any of them. Every day was the same, except for Sundays.

They don’t make you work on Sunday. Somebody said “it’s because Old Man Williams needs a day off,” which made everybody laugh because nobody could figure out what he did on the other days of the week. Him and the jeans dudes. Who turned out to have names. “Ethan is the one that locks us up at night,” I was told, “and Chad is the one that lets us out in the morning.” There were a lot of jokes about whether Chad and Ethan were always packing guns because they never had anything else to shoot with. But everybody knew that they wouldn’t think twice about shooting one of us.

That first Sunday I just laid on my bunk, listening to my body trying to recover from every kind of pain, in every member except one, which I hadn’t used in so long that I couldn’t remember it. But the overwhelming pain was knowing that I was a workie. On the other Sundays I was given more education about what that meant.

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Story

Bondage in 2020 Cell Without Bars – Part 03

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By felon

It was a normal work week, work all day, hide at my apartment all night. I made sure I wrote my journal entries, posted my pics on a daily basis. However one busy day (Wednesday) I forgot and left the charger for the ankle device at home. I realized that by about 4 pm when I usually sat down at my desk and plugged the charger in for a fresh charge. It was a good spot to sit as no one would see where the charger cord led to.

When you fail to charge the device it sends a signal to the captor with a low battery alert. Then i get a message on my cell phone — WTF charge your battery!!!!!

I was plenty pissed and also terrified at the same time. I left work a few minutes early-jumped in the car and sped home-not paying any attention to speed limits. I get home, rush to my apartment and plug myself in, had to sit there for over 2 hours for a full charge. Late that night I go to bed around 1130 pm. I live in a large 100-year-old apartment building with big windows facing the street. I am on an upper floor (6) on what is a quiet city street at night. I am laying in bed, watching the ankle device blink (as I do every night).

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Story

The WORC Program – Part 09

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By Joshua Ryan

The Haute Cuisine de Paris Select Tour … Mike had finally agreed to book it … I was lingering on a foggy street on the Ile Saint-Louis … Then from somewhere — some seventeenth century house? Some charming local church? — a bell was clanging. “Cmon,” Mack said. “Ain’t got all day.” He was already on his way to the shit holes, where a line had formed — a line of identical packages of rocklike muscles dressed in identical boxers and tees. A dream, and a nightmare.

I was one of the last to get to the holes, so I was glad I’d shat my guts out the night before, and all I needed to do was piss. I didn’t bother to line up for the sink. I went back to my bunk and started turning myself into the image of Mack, who had already dressed.

I can’t say they didn’t give us enough time. It was all hurry up and wait for our turn at the Chow Hall. While waiting, the workies shot the shit with each other, paying no attention to me. They weren’t interested anymore. I wasn’t new. I just stood by my bunk until Boss Web yelled, “Awright, make your line!” and we all marched off to the chow palace. Bill of fare: egg and cheese on bun, grits on the side. Hearty food! What you’d get in a fast food place, if the place was about to be closed by the health inspectors. Also a cup of coffee. No cream, no sugar, but the first coffee I’d had since I signed those papers. By the time I got through with it, I was so high that Ace came up beside me and said, “Coffee. It happened to me too. My first day. Watch your step. I don’t want you havin any accidents.”

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Story

Bondage in 2020 Cell Without Bars – Part 02

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By felon

Thanks for all your messages. To continue:

Early on in this experience I requested the time to arrange for a haircut. After a day I received a message approving the haircut, and also telling me where to go for the cut.

Now with the virus, it had been months since I had a decent haircut. I followed his direction and made an appointment at a traditional barbershop. I was told to make sure the barber saw my ankle with the device strapped on, and let others see it as well in the barbershop.

I made the appointment, and he placed the time and date on the calendar.

Was he planning on being there as well? Who knows… So when I arrived exactly on time the barber — a burly, bear-looking guy — was polite and conversational. I made sure he saw the device when I was sitting in the chair, a few minutes later another gentleman came in the shop for his haircut. I made sure he saw the device. I proceeded to have my hair cut very short – a No. 1 buzz on the sides and a No. 2 on the top. Paid my bill and left. Just exactly what I was expected to do.

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Story

The WORC Program – Part 08

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By Joshua Ryan

While I was thinking about all the things that could mean for my future (!!!), the dudes in jeans were putting me on the truck. I’m saying “on the truck” instead of “in the truck” because my place was in a cage attached to the bed. I would ride to the farm like an animal. No, not “like.”

The two five-gallon tubs of Slick It Off were nestling beside the cage. One of the dudes told me to stow my box behind them, and he unclipped the leash from my collar and handed it to the cop. I could see a lot of leashes hanging in the truck’s rear window; I guess they didn’t need any more. And was that a rifle sticking up between the seats? That or a shotgun! They’d be ready for me, in case I caused any trouble during my transport.

They opened the little gate to the cage, and I clambered in. You could tell that the cage wasn’t just a temporary part of the truck; it was bolted to the bed. There wasn’t enough room to stand up in, but there were little shelves on each side of it where somebody could sit. Just enough for four workies to be crammed inside. But today only one workie was out for delivery — me. I had the whole cage to myself.

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Story

Bondage in 2020 Cell Without Bars – Part 01

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By felon

Most of this story is true, and if there is interest it can be continued.

It all started out with my interest in bondage of all kinds, especially Law Enforcement, Military and Prison settings. For years I traveled all over the country to participate in heavy metal bondage actions.

I had made several trips to The Academy, and its later brother – The Training Center. Several trips to west coast areas and Washington State, and as we all know some of these trips work out great and others not so great.

So keeping that in mind I wanted to relay my most recent experience — a different kind of bondage experience in this Covid situation.

I had responded and had a conversation with a man into prisoner control. In fact we eventually determined that we were in the same general area. Although we have exchanged emails we never actually met in person. Finally it was decided that we should meet. Now his idea was different, he wanted to try something non-traditional. Being starved for any kind of action I was of course interested in pursuing a meeting.

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Story

The WORC Program – Part 07

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By Joshua Ryan

I don’t know how long it took for Grig to unlock the door and take me out of the room, but by that time all the other workies were back in their boxes. End of another perfect day.

“How’d it go?” Grig said. “Buyer like what he saw?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. My job right then was not to break down in hysterical faggot tears.

“Too bad. Sergeant told me the guy’s got money.”

“Yeah. He does.”

“But I guess he’s lookin for somethin special.” We’d reached the door of my box. “In you go,” he said. And he locked me in for the night.

I hoped that morning would never come again, but it did. After that, every day was the same. The only difference was what I got to scrub or shine or wax–one or many times. Officers had a way of finding you on your knees, just finishing up your part of the hallway, and accidentally spilling your bucket all over it. “Too bad. Guess you’ll need to do it again, workie.”

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Story

The WORC Program – Part 06

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By Joshua Ryan

Actually, it was like, two rooms, one for the workie and one for the shopper. On the shopper’s side of the room there were two or three nice comfy chairs and a nice wooden table, with something that looked like a big notebook or catalogue that was open on the top. Then there was a polished wooden barrier, about three feet high. Then there was a space. Then there was another kind of barrier. This one went from floor to ceiling and was made out of steel fencing. Yeah, the kind of thing they make fences out of. After that, you were in the workie’s room. Where I was. I don’t need to tell you that there wasn’t any furniture on my side of the room, unless you count the two cams hanging from the ceiling. The lack of furniture made it easier for me to pace up and down, waiting for someone—Mike!–to come through the door on the other side.

By the time he did, I was completely revved up. And he was looking his best. I always liked him in those long, loose sweaters. The drapery showed whatever muscles he had. Surprisingly, his new slacks were perfect. Despite my not picking them out for him.

“Mike!” I said, rushing to the fencing. “I’m SO glad to see you! And you’re right on time!”

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