Category Archives: Story

Story

The Hood by boyryan54

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By boyryan54

There was the familiar quiet jangle of chains. I sighed out of frustration. I quieted my breathing and tried to focus on any sounds, tricky considering the latex hood I was wearing, but the house sounded quiet. I shifted around, and there was “clang” from my left ankle shackle hitting a bar on the cage. I got very still, again listening for a sound for a few minutes.  Nothing. I sighed again, but this time, I sighed out of relief. I didn’t seem to have awoken anyone. This time I very slowly shifted around, pulled up a thin blanket, and curled up in a ball on the cage floor to fall back asleep.

I woke to the sound of water running through the walls. Someone was up! But was it Master or Alpha? No way I could tell. I hoped it was Master, but my gut told me it was Alpha. Master getting up meant that I might be released soon, but Alpha got up earlier for work, so rationally Alpha was showering. After a few mins, I heard the floor boards creak, someone walked past the playroom door, and disappeared. A little while later, heard the front door sensor chirp as it was opened and closed again. Alpha clearly left for work. No idea how much longer Master would sleep in. “Wonder if he was awake now, maybe watching it on the nanny cam”, I asked myself. But no way I would be able to tell.

It’s been two days now. Two infuriating days where I have been kept in this latex hood. Two days of wearing a latex hood, open mouth, two small nose holes, and no eye sight.

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Story

7 Days in Berlin – Part 10

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By Takeo

Day 3 – Thursday June 13th – Playful afternoon

Franz probably deliberately left the alarm clock on the table. I have always loved being tied up for long periods of time, several hours at a time. But I cannot tell which is more difficult: having no notion of the time passing or, on the contrary, having a clock at sight. In the first case, I am constantly asking myself: how long have I been in this position? How much time is left? But in this situation, my brain quickly goes into subspace and wanders, letting time lengthen or shrink as my thoughts wander. On the contrary, with the clock in front of me, time seems to pass more slowly, with the time on the clock reminding us of the reality of things every time.

We have been attached to each other for nearly an hour now. Tom is surprisingly calm, given that he does not seem to have any bondage experience. It has to be said that the position is easy and, above all, pleasurable. The hardest part will be holding the standing position for 4 hours, but for now it is manageable, both for Tom and for me.

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Story

Long Term Confinement – Part 05

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By Scribe

Discipline Technologies would like to notify interested clients that it has added services, equipment and modifications to its long-term confinement cells. Please refer to our prior announcement (Long Term Confinement Part 01) for a basic description of the prison. Our clients have suggested enhancements to their stay which we have tried to accommodate. Some of these services are free of charge but others come at an additional cost. Some of our guests want just the basic cell while others feel the enhancements are well worth the additional expense.

We have modified many of our basic cells so that no light can penetrate the cage. The rubber mats now cover the entire cell including the ceiling. Ventilation tubes are curved to allow air but no light to enter the cage. The food slot has two doors. The inner door can’t be opened by the prisoner unless the outer door is closed by the guard. The guard can’t open the outer door until the prisoner puts its food bowl on the tray and closes the inner door. This deters any interaction with the guard as well as preventing any light from disturbing the prisoner. The inmate is kept in total darkness and can never see anything inside or outside the cell. The ability to communicate with anyone or hear anything outside the cell is also reduced as the heavily padded cell absorbs most sound. The padding also helps prevent any self-inflicted injuries. While there is no light fixture in the cell, there is wiring for cables to electrified hoods, collars and chastity devices if needed.

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Story

My Trip to Paris – Chapter 15

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By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 15: Congratulations. You Are Here Forever

“Just do what I told you,” 8363 said.  “Do what I did.  It worked for me.  They’ll never throw me out of here.”

That’s what I was thinking about while Officer Yan marched me across the Parade Ground to the Examination Rooms, which were part of the Classroom Building.  It was February; snow was falling; I’d been in prison for almost a year.  I was having my one-year Custodial Review, which would be conducted by an officer in one of the Rooms.  I repeated to myself the answers that 8363 had given me.  Then I repeated them again, until I was sure I’d got them right.  They worked for him; they’d work for me.  There was no difference between us.

My assigned officer was Lieutenant Connors.  In the corridor, I waited in line, cuffed and shackled, behind the five other criminals waiting to see him.  One by one they went in and came out.  A couple were crying.  The rest appeared stoic.  Or indifferent, fated.  But in a situation like that, restraints need to be applied to everyone.  Officers can never predict when a criminal may do something unfortunate.  Then I heard “G023104411!”, and I entered the office.

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Story

My Trip to Paris – Chapter 14

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By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 14: Sewing Your Own Prison

We entered the Pen through the gate.  No more front door and lobby for me.  I was promptly escorted to the Colonel’s residence and locked in the cage in the servants hall.  6839, 1057, and 9555 were buzzing around, preparing for Mr. Patrick’s afternoon snack and casting sidelong glances at me, afraid to ask what had happened.  Afraid, or indifferent.  More glances were cast as 9555 stepped into the role of conveying the snack, and a very long time elapsed until he returned.  I was in the cage, looking out through the bars like an owl in the zoo.

Then, while 1057 heated the stove for the couple’s first course at dinner, the Colonel himself strode in, ordering everyone out of the servants’ area.  They scuttled away, 1057 casting anguished eyes at his stove—puzzled, like all of them, where he was supposed to go.  My prediction was the servants’ john.

“You did a good job today, convict,” the Colonel said, walking up to the cage.

“Thank you, sir.”

“It was a privilege never given to any other convict.”

“Yes sir.  I am grateful for my privileges, sir.”

He was pacing restlessly, but always keeping my face in view.  Every time he passed the cage, I could see his dick growing harder behind his pants.  At first I wasn’t sure.  Then I was.

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Story

My Trip to Paris – Chapter 13

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By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 13: Stage Struck

“Thanks for the gossip,” 8363 said.  “You know how it turns me on.”

“Anything to serve,” I said.

“You definitely like serving the Colonel.”

If you can shrug when you’re wrapped up in a bunk with the guy you’re shrugging at, I shrugged.

“Too bad,” he said, “that he’s just running a test.”

“Yeah.  To see if I’ve been tamed.  He said he could tame me, and he was right.  He’s got his answer.”

“Actually, he’s testing himself.”

“Sure, sure.”

“You can’t fuck something that doesn’t get you hard.”

“So?”

“So you think he likes being turned on by the tool he’s made out of you?  I like it, but that’s because I’m a tool myself.”

“I’m glad you’re screwed onto me.”

We played for a while.  He had an amazing tongue—great in my mouth, great on my toes, great when it slithered across my bald head.  Then he told me, “He’s testing himself to see if he wants to be like you.  If he wants to be tamed . . . punished . . .  shackled . . . worked . . . .”

“Who cares?  Just keep doing what you’re doing . . . .”

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Story

My Trip to Paris – Chapter 12

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By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 12: Employment Benefits

I think I mentioned that Mr. Patrick didn’t spend as much time at his job as the Colonel spent at his.  Nothing close.  In the afternoon he was usually to be found lying on the nine-foot couch, watching videos or having an early cocktail.  9555, the pretty young airhead, fetched him his drinks, and while that was happening I wasn’t given any chores in that part of the quarters.

But one day it was me that he summoned, and when I’d set his drink on the end table—or more precisely, on the little marble coaster that needed to be placed precisely at arm’s reach on the end table—he told me to “wait at the wall,” which meant standing at attention in my usual arms-behind-my-back posture.  Half an hour passed before he finished with whatever he was doing on his phone.  I was happy, just looking at the walls that enclosed me and the comfortable furniture that I was permitted to clean but never to sit on.  Then his voice said, “Here.”  His glass was on the coaster, with his phone beside it.  “Suck me,” he said.

He opened his slacks and dropped them over his knees.  He was being careful; he didn’t want to get a stain.  I dropped in front of him, automatically loosening the collar of my uniform for the job ahead of me.  “Stay in uniform,” he ordered.  “And watch the teeth.”

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Story

My Trip to Paris – Chapter 11

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By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 11: Welcome to Our Service Team

It’s humiliating to say this, but I’ll do it, because “humiliation” is something I was learning to like: I was enjoying my life in prison.  I was glad I’d told 8363 my story about being the prisoner of my former boyfriend and sub.  It was sort of like bragging.  He took it that way, and enjoyed it: “That is so humiliating!  You are definitely being humbled!”  I liked having things to say that were interesting to him, and that always was.  When we were forming up to be marched someplace, or when we were listening to one of those lectures we had to attend, he’d whisper to me, “This is your punishment for not respecting the Colonel.”  Always gave me a hardon.  Maybe that was just more of the brainwashing!  But it helped me learn more about prison, and being a prisoner.

If you’re a normie, everything about your life has to be taken seriously.  Every decision demonstrates whether you deserve respect or not.  You blew a business deal, you didn’t demand more salary, you didn’t join the right club, you didn’t vote for the right party, you didn’t go to the best resort, you didn’t get a totally hot boyfriend . . . you are in trouble.

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