Category Archives: Story

Story

My Adventures With Billy – Part 10

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By Robmacz

I headed home for the last time. Once there I took a last look round, kinda like when you move home from college and take a last look at where you lived as a student. Would I ever see this place again? Probably not. I got changed, putting on a t-shirt and some jeans that I had earlier poured whisky on so they would smell. I picked up a half bottle of whisky, the manila envelope containing the small packages of coke, and the larger bundle. Then I retrieved Billy’s pistol from where I had safely hidden it.

Down in the garage I smashed the rear light, so that it would cause attention and then I put the gun and drugs on the floor by the passenger seat and left the whisky close at hand. I headed off it was about 7.30 in the evening. I drove around for about 15 minutes before I saw a police car parked on the side of the road. Two cops were just getting in with their coffees. I put my foot down and started to drive erratically. It was not long before I saw flashing lights behind me. I knew where I was heading– Pierre’s, the restaurant where Billy took me several months before.  I knew there would be a pile of expensive cars lined up outside.

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Story

Island Paradise – Part 1: Chapter 15

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By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 15: Crime and Punishment

Here’s the way it was.  Every new slap had to spend at least 30 days being “trained.”  The idea was that if you spend 30 days in the Chicken Coop, you find out what you are, an you be a good slappie, resta you life.  “Good” meaning all slappie and nothing else.  After that, the Program looked around for somebody to sell you to—I mean, somebody to take a lease on your labor service.  Every few days, clients were invited to the Show Room and slap boys were displayed.

Sometime in my distant past, Major Timmons had explained it all.  Then it had seemed less personal—much less personal than when it was discussed in the Scrum Room.

“They even got a catlog, dude.  They be seein YOU, an you bare ASS, right in they laptop dude.”

“While they jerkin, I guess.”

“They jerkin for ME, anyways.  Doan know for you, dude.”

When you were sold, you left the Coop and you were never seen again, unless you turned up working down the block from some other slap that trained with you.  Then maybe you would meet him and share your happy memories.

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Story

My Adventures With Billy – Part 09

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By Robmacz

The following day I didn’t wake up until the early afternoon. Partly the result of exhaustion of the previous few weeks, but more to do with the hangover I was now experiencing from the day before. It was the banging on the door that woke me. I stumbled out of bed and opened the door to find Mike standing there.

‘God, you look awful,’ he said. I stepped back and he came in. ‘Why don’t you take a shower, while I fix some coffee.’

I did as he suggested, and Mike had made some strong coffee by the time I got out.

‘How come you look so good?’ I asked.

‘Because I stopped drinking about three hours before you did.’

I wasn’t in a hospitable mood. I was still feeling sorry for myself and thinking about Billy locked away in his cell. Though every time I conjured up the image my dick started to twitch. Why did I find the misfortune of the guy I was in love with so horny? Clearly, I had some issues I needed to sort out.

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Story

Island Paradise – Part 1: Chapter 14

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By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 14: Your Every Moment Will Be Filled with Meaning

When you’re a freshman slappie you wake up at dawn, and if you’re a new and potentially uncontrolled slappie, you lie in your rack until the boss comes by to unlock your shackle.  Then you herd into the latrine to do your business.  The smell of piss and shit from 100 slappies—that wasn’t one of the attractions of the King George Hotel.  The hotel had slappies, but they did it someplace else.  Mornings are chilly on St. Bevons, and the steam goes up from the shit holes.  You march to the chow hall in your big boots and your little slappie suit, and you feel like the cold breeze is drowning you.  Chow is something like oatmeal and something like coffee.  No croissants.  No marmalade.  No fresh fruits offered for your selection.  No one to suggest that the gentleman might wish to try the special breakfast of the day.  Then you’re marched out on the slab for exercise.  You strip down to your y-fronts, and you’re ready for your session of mens nulla in corpore sano.

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Story

My Adventures With Billy – Part 08

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By Robmacz

‘Well,’ Billy said, ‘it all started soon after I became a cop. I was on patrol one evening and I pulled this guy over. It was a standard DUI, the guy was just slightly over the limit. As I started to read him his rights he started to plead with me not to take him in, that he needed his car to see his daughter who was sick in the hospital and his ex-wife didn’t want him there. It was a real sob story, but I felt sorry for the guy. Then he offered me $200. I don’t know what came over me, but I was overdrawn at the bank and I had to pay off a loan that my brother took out with a loan shark. I was finding it hard just to make ends meet. I took the money and told him to be on his way. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.

‘A few days later I get some mail, which contained a photo of me accepting the cash.  It told me I should be parked on the corner of a street someplace, I can’t quite remember where. Anyway a minute or so after I arrived this guy got in my car. He told me that if I didn’t want that photo to see the light of day, I was to provide certain information when requested. That it wouldn’t be regular, but every now and then. I agreed.  What else could I do?

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Story

Displayed – Part 05

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By Pickle

~ Chapter 21 ~

I finish up and they unchain me, and escort me outside and direct me around behind the torture barn and up the hill behind it a few hundred yards to another barn.  I’m later to learn that this one does actually serve as an animal barn, and this truly is a working farm.

I hadn’t really checked out the clothes I donned in the dark yet.  I guess I must have been too ravenous to care what I was wearing, but I now saw I was wearing a pair of really well-fitting and very faded jeans, and a dark green shirt, like I’d seen on “Coffee” … the shirttails were cut deeper than most of my own shirts, and they curved like the dress shirts I remember seeing my old man wearing.  I kinda liked the shape of those shirttails.  Maybe they reminded me of him or something.  Kind of a nice memory, since he passed away when I was in my early teens.

My two chaperones lead me beyond the barn but near one end where we pass a large manure pile.  I’m halted when we reach a small, square pit.  There’s a couple tall poles that I eyeball to be at least twenty feet high, and a thick crossbeam between them.  I see a large winch and a chain extending down from it over the pit, but the end with the hook has been pulled over to one of the poles and hooked there, waiting … I can only assume … for me.  The pit is about six feet square and since it’s filled with a gross-looking mixture of non-identifiable gunk that smells like nothing I’ve ever smelled before. I gag from the stench and my “companions” both laugh.

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Story

My Adventures With Billy – Part 07

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By Robmacz

A group of officers moved into the apartment, and I saw Billy turn around and put his hands behind his back. I was thinking what the fuck was happening, but also how hot Billy looked cuffed up. I got up from the sofa and walked towards Billy and the arresting officer.

‘What the hell is going on?’ I asked.

‘Who are you?’ the officer shot back.

‘He’s got nothing to do with this,’ Billy replied before I had a chance to say anything. ‘You’d better leave.’

‘Not without giving me your name and address,’ the officer said.

I gave him my details and then turned my eyes toward Billy.  He looked beat.

‘Call Mike, will you,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry!’

Stunned by this, I rushed out the door and down to the street, where I called Mike on my cellphone. I was breathing heavily and trying to get the words out, but they must have got lost in the stream of garbage, because all Mike could say was ‘what are you talking about?’  Eventually I explained it clearly, and he said he was on his way and would be there in ten minutes.

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Story

Island Paradise – Part 1: Chapter 13

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By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 13: But You Don’t Have to Pay Any Rent

I edged inside and he slammed the door.  “Well,” he said, looking down at me from the height of six feet three. “I seen you before, boy.  Guess you here cuz you got some more questions bout thee Program, right?  Guess thee best answers gonna come from what thee Major calls experience.  Doan you agree, boy?”

A chorus of laughs told me that the room, once empty except for the boss, was now filled with slappies.  The same slappies I’d been watching two days before were sitting in the Scrum or leaning on their bunks, and they were all watching me.

“He doan know boss!” one of them shouted.

“Teach em boss!”

“Give em some sperience boss!”

“At least ten inches boss!”

“Shut thee fuck up,” the boss said, pleasantly.  He was still looking down at me.

“Now you livin thee slappie life, boy.  You know that?”

“Yes . . . I mean yes boss.”

“Awright.  Time to get you gear.”

He unlocked a closet, pulled out some large bulky brown objects, and dropped them on the floor.  “That you blanket,” he said.  “An that you mattress.  Pick em up.”

Continue reading Island Paradise – Part 1: Chapter 13 →