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Story

The Convict – Part 10

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By Joshua Ryan

THIS IS A STORY ABOUT ADULTS, FOR ADULTS ONLY

As I said before, I’d seen prison vans on the road. Maybe some of them were on their way to the Durant Unit.   I didn’t know. I was never really interested. I remember that when I saw them I wanted to look inside, but I couldn’t see in past the bars. All I could see was some shadowy things that looked like ghosts. Ghosts of men. Former men. I’d never thought about it that way, but that’s the way it had looked. You see a lot more than you realize.

Now I was inside the van, and the people on the street were seeing me go by. Some of them stared, and some of them glanced and looked away, like they were ashamed that they’d looked in the first place. Women in tapered suits, with little purses. Young guys in bright neckties, just getting off work. A gang of teenagers with their caps turned around, jumping on and off their skateboards, waiting for the light to change. “Dude!” one of them yelled, pointing at the van. “There’s a jailbird in there!” They all craned their necks and tried to see through the bars. They were starting to jump off the curb to get a better look, but Andre gestured at them to stay where they were, and they obeyed the man in uniform. The light changed, and the van moved on. I wondered if those kids would remember me, if they ever found themselves inside a bus that was headed for prison.

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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 07

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By lthr_jock

Clark usually woke slowly, but on this occasion he was suddenly jerked awake as his body clenched in pain. He sat up suddenly, his legs, back and chest feeling like he had completed a massive workout on the previous day. This was combined with his back torso and legs being covered with a decent level of sunburn which gave him a whole different kind of pain. Clark got up, and went into the bathroom to look at himself. He looked a mess – his whole body a bright shade of red with white patches marking where the yoke had been locked onto him. Every movement made his muscles ache and he marvelled he hadn’t torn something.

The thick steel collar stood out against his reddened skin and Clark was amazed he had worn it all night. As he thought about the day before, he grinned to himself and admitted the whole thing had been arousing. A pain in his cock growing from dull to sharp reminded him that he was still wearing the cock cuff and that his growing excitement was being restricted. Clark headed back into the bedroom, found the key to the cuff and took it off. Sprawled back on his bed, it only took a few strokes to get his cock to full height and as he went back over the events of the day before, it didn’t take long before Clark climaxed, thick ropes of creamy cum spurting over his crotch and waist.

Clark lay there for a few seconds, unaware that this had all been filmed via webcam. He hadn’t cum that hard for a long time. He headed back into the bathroom and had a long shower, only realising them that he hadn’t removed the collar. “Damn, this thing seems to suit me.” He chuckled to himself and then headed back into the bathroom.

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Story

The Wooden Pole – Part 2

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By Mister-X/Spartan

After Tino had left, Ike had a lot to think about. It sounded like he was going to be here attached to this pole all weekend. And it sounded like Randy was also restrained in his bedroom all weekend. Randy had said nothing about this happening, but Ike had noticed that on some weekends Randy wouldn’t be on the internet at all. He figured that these must have corresponded with Tino’s visits.

Ike was sweating and worrying about what Tino would do to him. Then he noticed that he was getting pain from an unexpected source. His cock was trying to get hard, but couldn’t due to the chastity. Ike was surprised at this reaction. He tried loosening himself from the pole, but knew that it was useless. He kept trying to find his keys, but couldn’t. He figured Tino had picked them up. He was hearing muffled sounds coming from Randy’s bedroom, and figured that Randy must also be well secured and would be of no help.

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Story

The Convict – Part 09

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By Joshua Ryan

When you’re dreaming, you don’t have to plan; one thing usually just leads to more of the same kind of thing. That’s one of the reasons why I kept feeling like I was still in a dream. I used to start each morning by waiting for the prisoners to come from the Durant Unit; now I was starting the afternoon by waiting to go to the Durant Unit and become a prisoner. I was even dressed the same way I always was. My clothes had gotten a little rumpled. There was some dirt on my sleeve that I couldn’t rub off. But the clothes were still all right. That was one good thing about going through it all in one day.

The lawyer left, and an officer came by and gave me a sandwich and a diet coke. So that was the same as usual, too. Then there was nothing going on in the dream, so I took off my coat and tie and put my head down on the table, and I fell asleep. You might think that was surprising. But that’s what happened. I’d gotten up early that day, and a lot of things had happened. I even started another dream.

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Story

The Wooden Pole – Part 1

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By Mister-X/Spartan

It was bedtime. Ike got the wooden pole. It was a duplicate of the one that was in his closet that he hung his hangers on. It was about 7 feet long, as the one in his closet was. That was what had gotten Ike the original idea. He liked it so much that he finally got a duplicate at Home Depot so he didn’t have to keep removing his clothes that were on hangers, then putting them back when he was finished.

Ike lay it down on the floor alongside the leather straps, the blindfold and the ball gag. He already had put his cock in his chastity device. Otherwise, he was naked. He lay down on his stomach and lay out the leather straps, then put the pole behind him. He had to sit up to put the strap around the pole and his ankles, having the pole go next to his body. After the ankle strap was tightened and buckled, he lay down again and positioned the pole. Next was the strap around his legs above his knees and the pole. Then the stomach, keeping this one as loose as required.

Then the neck strap. Then the ball gag. He got the handcuffs and ratcheted one side closed on his left wrist after making sure that his fingers would have access to the keyholes. He also made sure that the keys were at their usual accessible place. He put his blindfold on, stretched his hands down under the stomach strap, which now was covering his arms almost to the elbow, put his left hand next to the pole, reached under the pole for the right hand cuff with his right hand and pulled it to the other side after wrapping it around the pole, used his left hand to ratchet it on his right wrist, and checked to make sure he’d done everything. Satisfied, he rolled over onto his back. He tested to make sure he couldn’t move, attached to the pole he was resting on, and prepared to drop off to sleep.

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Story

The Convict – Part 08

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By Joshua Ryan

One of the officers carried my briefcase, and the other one led me by the arm. When we got to the top of the hill there was a woman jogging through the park. She had a cell phone on her someplace and she was talking into the air, the way they do, like they’re crazy people, and when she saw us she jumped back and put her hand on her chest like she was having a seizure. She looked at me like I was raping her at that very moment. Then she ran off, fast. No one had ever reacted to me like that before.

There was a black police car parked at the curb. One of the officers put his hand on my head and guided me into the back seat. His hand was gentle, in the way that hands are when they don’t want to touch something that they have to touch. The car door slammed. In 20 minutes, they were leading me into the Justice Center downtown.

I was surprised that they never read me my rights, but then I remembered — they didn’t have to do that anymore, now that the courts had approved all the new anticrime laws. There had been a conversation about that. I recalled it. A conversation in a bar. It was the night I first met Joey Madison. He was coming on pretty strong, so I told him, “You’d better back off. Otherwise, a cop is gonna show up and read you your rights.” “They don’t do that anymore,” he said, putting his arm around my shoulder. “They just drag you off to jail.” We both laughed.

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Story

The Convict – Part 07

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By Joshua Ryan

I had to get in to work really early that day, because I was the person who was supposed to handle the year-end calls from the branches in other time zones. When I finally got to the lounge at 9 for coffee, the first thing I did was go to the deck and look at the convicts. I wanted to see if one of them was standing by the fence.

“Whatcha lookin for, Jason?” It was somebody’s voice. I remembered. It was Peter Tomlinson’s.

“Uh . . . nothing. . . . I . . . uh . . . Great day, huh?” It was another one of those days we have in winter when the sun is so bright you’d almost think it was spring already. At 9 o’clock in the morning, it must have been 55 degrees on that deck. It was sort of like the first day when I met the convict.

“Not really. Channel 10 says it’s gonna snow tonight.”

“That true? We almost never have snow in December.” What are you talking about? I asked myself. My eyes were searching the fence, searching . . .

“It’s true. Look at those clouds. Cirrus. We’ll have snow all right. Lotta snow.”

“Too bad. I wanted to wash the car.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” I couldn’t believe I was making jokes.

“What are you looking at, Jason?”

“Just watching the convicts.”

“Huh?”

“The convicts. Down in the field.”

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Story

The Convict – Part 06

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By Joshua Ryan

I was having a lot of strange thoughts and feelings. Right after Thanksgiving, Mr. Dietrich called me into his office and told me I’d be getting a promotion and a raise. Starting in December, I’d be an Associate Managerial Analyst, a big step up from Assistant Managerial Analyst, although it didn’t come near to getting me my own office. He said, “Congratulations, young man,” and I thanked him profusely for offering me the additional responsibility. When I looked at my pay stub a week later, I saw the change, but I didn’t feel anything about it anymore. On the one hand, it was more money. On the other hand, Joey would probably spend it. I didn’t care. He was welcome to the money. I just wanted out of it all.

And after Thanksgiving, of course, comes Christmas. I wasn’t paying much attention at first. I had too much else to think about, or try not to think about. Then one night I was in Berenson’s, looking for a new pair of slacks, and I noticed how crowded it was for a Tuesday night. That led me to notice all the evergreens hanging on the walls. The first thing I thought was, that’s the kind of stuff that Jake and the other cons are cutting out in the field. They’re cutting trees and brush. Finally I realized that I was looking at Christmas. It didn’t make much of an impression. What it meant to me, mainly, was that the days were getting shorter and colder. This part of the country usually doesn’t get a lot of winter, but we were getting a lot of it then. When the convicts went past in the morning they were wrapped up in their heavy coats, brown forms peering out of the white truck like reindeer on a Christmas card. And Jake was one of them. I looked at him every morning, but I hadn’t talked to him in over a week. And I needed to talk. The next day, I switched my schedule around at work, and I went out to meet him.

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