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Story

Letters from Prison – Part 02

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By Socalbd

Day 2

Friday, March 7, 2025

Good morning,

Light is barely coming into the cell from the window.  It’s dawn.  I thought I would write my thoughts throughout the day as they came to me so this might be disjointed.

The sound of a flushing toilet woke me.  It took me a couple of hours to get to sleep last night, but I finally did sleep.  I woke up to realize I’m still in prison – and alone in solitary.  The coarse blanket they give us is one of the many reminders I’m in prison.

Another toilet flushes.  It’s never quiet even when it’s quiet.  The constant hum of the air vent pushing air into my cell never stops.  It’s doing time, too, just like me.  The humming is always there, and the air is never still.

More toilets flushing.  Will I stay in solitary today?  Maybe I’ll get to see and talk to someone.  Anyone.  I can’t believe how lonely it is.  It’s lonely.  I’m lonely.

A couple of months before this the corrections department assigned two people to me – an inmate liaison and a guard.  They were to help me “transition in” by being able to answer questions.  It was all through text messaging – when I had a phone.

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Story

Letters from Prison – Part 01

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By Socalbd

Background: I recently spent four days as an inmate during a live action roleplay.  The event took place at a closed but partially refurbished maximum-security prison.  This was my first time doing something like this, and I knew I wanted to keep a journal about my experience.  However, I wanted to stay in the headspace as much as I could.  More about that below.  To say it was the experience of a lifetime would be an understatement.  But more than that, the community of men I spent four days with was incredible.  I was honored to share this experience with them.  My thanks to the organizers for their countless hours of preparation.  Special thanks to those that had my back, physically and mentally, and allowed me to ride the range of emotions that challenged, scared and comforted me over the four days.

The letters:  I arranged with the captain of the guard prior to the event to be able to “write” letters home to family.  I would be provided with paper, pen and envelopes in my cell.  When there was time, I would write my letters.  Each evening, I would place the letter in an open envelope and have it delivered to the captain of the guard.  He could read the letter, check it for any information not permitted to be revealed about the prison (he would line out any such writing), he could write comments in the margins if he wanted, and would then “mail” the letter for me.  Mailing meant placing the letter in my duffel bag that was being stored during the event.   At the end of the event the letters would be waiting for me inside the bag, and I would be able to go back and read them along with any edits the captain of the guard made.

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Story

My Pal Jock and the Guy in the Diner

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By Hunter Perez

“Bingo, did you ever get the feeling that you were being watched?” said Jock while we were in the midst of a late-night meal at a roadside diner just outside of town. Jock was enjoying a Greek salad and a cup of green tea while I indulged in a pizza burger deluxe with French fries and a large Coke – yeah, I’m a slob.

“No, of course not,” I responded as I mopped up a drop of pizza sauce with one of my French fries. “What brings that up?”

Jock laughed and shook his head. “You eat like an eight-year-old. Seriously, there’s a guy at a table across from us who hasn’t stopped staring at you since we got here. Don’t tell me that you didn’t notice him.”

“Oh, please,” I responded between bites of my pizza burger. “No one is staring at me. If anything, the guy’s probably staring at you. And can you blame him? With that tight t-shirt showing off your muscles, you’re the life of the party. You don’t expect a runt like me to steal your spotlight”

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Story

Human Cattle – Part 11

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By Pickle

I don’t know how long I was hanging there before I heard the barn door creak open.  I didn’t bother to lift my head.  The sun streaming in behind them cast a bony, elongated shadow of each of the four men, as they each entered single file from the far side of the huge space.  Their shadows were remarkably similar to the shape of the aliens on the ship.  It freaked me out!  Even though I didn’t want to let these guys know I even cared they were coming back to mess with me, my curiosity got the better of me.  I had to sneak a peek. Just to make sure it actually was my buddies that had me in this splayed-out “fix” and not something much more sinister.

Hanging here, I began to wonder if I actually HAD been struck by lightening, however many nights ago it was.  I was half-hoping I was in a coma, and that all of this shit that both Steve, and the aliens had put me through, was just some place, a slightly kinky guy’s brain, like mine, takes him when he’s in that weird medical state.  Part of me wondered, “Am I dead, and this is what eternity will be like?”

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Story

Human Cattle – Part 10

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By Pickle

The fluid that was being pumped into my mask by the aliens who had captured me continued to surge down my throat and into my lungs. Remarkably, it became a pleasant warming sensation.  Actually comforting.  In my brain I knew I should be drowning but this “therapy” seemed to be improving my breath capacity and feeling of general well-being.

The alien let me know my lungs and throat were being renewed and changed in such a way that would enable me to survive another little adventure they had in store for me.  The fluid continued to surge into the mask, and now throughout my entire system in a non-stop ebb and flow.  Time meant nothing anymore.  I had no idea how long they kept this up.  I no longer cared though, since it had the sensation of being massaged from the inside out.  I was completely relaxed and was feeling totally euphoric.  I no longer gave a flyin’ fuck that my control was no longer my own.

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Story

Human Cattle – Part 9

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By Pickle

When I turned my barn into a gym, I invested in a secondhand ice bath.  I was never so happy I had done that as I was now.  I knew there’d be a shit-ton of inflammation in my tendons, muscles and joints since my body had been put under so much duress.  Pulled apart so unforgivingly!

I’d never endured any “test” so tough or extreme before, so I didn’t even bother to strip off before plunging myself into the bath of frigid water.  It felt like a billion tiny sharp needles jabbing my body as I lowered myself in, but once submerged, it began to numb some of the pain.  My endorphins were already in high gear from the torture. There was no other word for what Steve had made me endure, but the freezing cold water seemed to make my brain kick-in and deliver a more healing type of euphoria.  I stayed submerged for five minutes before slowly climbing out, looking like a drowned rat.  I took my wet clothes off and hung them on the line in back of the house.  When I finished, Steve was already sitting in an Adirondack chair, again swallowing down a beer.

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Story

Human Cattle – Part 08

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By Pickle

“Don’t go anywhere Pick, I’ll be right back.”  He unlocked the door and disappeared through it, closing it behind him.  A few minutes later he returned carrying another army rucksack.  This one was of a more normal size.  My buddy carried it around behind my back and I heard him rummaging through it and taking things out.  I tried to twist around to see what he was up to, but of course, couldn’t move my legs far with the 500 pounds on the spreader bar holding them in place, and Steve had gone far enough behind me that I couldn’t twist my upper body and head far enough to see what he was up to.  He sang his little made-up ditty of …

“The waves come in, the waves go out! 

The waves come in, the waves go out!” 

“Kinda almost like a sea shanty, huh soldier?”

The fucker was truly enjoying himself at my expense.  On one hand, I found myself wanting to evict him from my cottage and get him the Hell out of my life, and on the other, strangely kind of liking this side of him.  He had me thoroughly confused.  I realized I was enjoying this intensely macho treatment.  How hard he was testing me.  The punishment he was putting me through.

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Story

Human Cattle – Part 07

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By Pickle

Once Steve had massaged my arms and shoulders back to life and given me some water, he said, “Ok, Pick my boy.  Round Two!  Let’s get you all fixed up here dude.”

With that, he started the winch up again and got my wrists above my head. Then he affixed a bi-polar alligator clamp to each of my nipples.  Next came an electro pad for each of my abs. He was careful not to pull my shirt out when he did that. Then two on each bicep.  He smiled and looked at the wire coming out of the fly of my jeans that he had attached what now seemed like eons ago, and said, “I think we’re gonna have to deal with something else here too buddy.”  He reached through my fly and carefully pulled out my junk.  Again being careful not to disturb my shirt.  He clearly wanted those damned shirttails to stay tucked in tight.

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