By Zac Loughty

This story is about adults, to be read by adults only.

The author would like to thank his Discipline Monitor for his ‘encouragement’ to get this story finished, and for proofreading this story.


Crap! It’s as if a boy scout has tied one of his fancy knots in my calf. I knead it with my fingers, trying to get it out.

This is what happens when you spend a night folded up in your cage.

I’m being punished. Sir says I was rude to our server last night. Whatever! I mean, isn’t that what a server’s supposed to do… SERVE? Geesh!

I need to piss! I reach through the bars and grab one of the wide-mouth bottles set within reach for this purpose. I remove the cap, position myself on all fours and drop my caged dick in the hole. What a pain in the ass!

Relief! My warm piss fills the bottle. I screw the cap back on and set the bottle outside my cage.

I wonder if Sir unlocked the padlock yet!

I turn around, reach through the bars, and grab the padlock. Crap! Still locked. I yank on it a few times just to make sure. I push on the cage door, but I know I’m not getting out. I want out!

I lie back down and wrap my scratchy blanket around me. It’s cold in the basement! I’m naked except for my collar and chastity cage. It would be really nice to lie down next to Sir’s body right about now.

“Boy! Up!” It’s Sir! I hope he lets me out of this fuckin’ cage!

He’s thrust his amazing cock through the bars. I’m drawn to it like it’s a magnet. Sir has this perfect head. It’s like it was made for my mouth. I get on my knees. I have to hunch over a bit since the cage is just over a yard high. I grab the bars and wrap my lips around his beautiful head. My tongue gives his frenum a massage. It plumps up. I go down on him until my nose is buried in his pubes. I inhale his musky scent. I suck on him, inviting him further down my throat. His cock makes itself at home. It expands until it’s in my gullet. I force it to ram the back of my throat over and over. I want his cum! His breathing quickens. But then…

He withdraws from my mouth!

I give him a pouty face.

“I want your ass, boy!”

Even better! I hang on to the bars, stick my tongue out and pant like a dog.

Sir unlocks the padlock, removes it, and opens the cage door. Yes!

“Out you go, boy!”

I crawl out on all fours.

“Up against the cage, boy!”

I stand up and bend over the cage.

“But first, I’m going to warm your behind for being so rude last night, boy!”

“I’m sorry, Sir!” Whatever! Just fuck me already!

“You’re not sorry yet, but you will be!”

He moves over to the wall. I hear him remove a paddle. Crap! He means business! I guess I really pissed him off. Fuck!

“What we have here, boy, is a failure to communicate!”

There’s a WHOOSH as that heavy wooden paddle displaces air on the way to my bare butt.


Searing pain burns my right buttock.


“So, I’m going to communicate directly through your ass!”


Fire tears through my left butt cheek.

“Oooooowwwwwww! Please don’t Sir, I’ll behave!”

“You are correct, boy. You WILL behave!”


A blaze ignites on my right upper thigh. That’s right where I sit down!

“Oooooowwwwwww! Yes, Sir! I promise, Sir!”

“Am I getting through, boy?”


My upper left thigh is set alight.

“Oooooowwwwwww! Loud and clear, Sir!”

“You WILL be polite!”


My sorry right butt cheek lights up again. Tears are welling up in my eyes and rolling down my cheeks.

“Oooooowwwwwww! I’ll be polite, Sir! I’ll be polite!”

“You WILL be considerate!”


It feels like hornets are stinging my left buttock. I’m bawling.

“Oooooowwwwwww! I’ll be considerate, Sir! I’ll be considerate! You won’t believe how considerate I’ll be, Sir!” I yell between sobs.

“You will NOT embarrass me!”


My upper right thigh again ignites. I’m gasping for breath. It hurts SO BAD!

“Oooooowwwwwww!” I’m sobbing too hard to say anything intelligible.

“Have I made myself clear, boy?”


The burning in my upper left thigh feels like all the skin’s been removed.

“Oooooowwwwwww! Totally clear, Sir! Totally clear!” I manage to babble.

I lie on the cage and bawl. I don’t even know what Sir’s doing. I’m pissed! How dare he paddle my ass! I just wanted our server to look alive, that’s all! So what?

The coolness of lube on my hole calms me. Sir’s fingers enter me, opening me up. I relax my sphincter to let him in. I feel the head of his cock against my backdoor. Pushing… pushing… pushing. Pop!


He’s in! His head rests there a moment, letting me adjust to the intrusion.

I take deep breaths. I want him inside me.

Gradually, his cock forces its way past my defenses. It invades until his balls slap against my sore ass.


“Your butt feels nice and warm, boy. You may have some blisters to help you remember your lesson.”

He pulls out a bit, then slams back home.


He begins thrusting into me. I can picture his large eggs in their hairy sack slamming into me.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

I want his cum in me!

He slams into me again and again.

His breathing becomes ragged. He’s gonna cum!

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!”

He stops thrusting. His cock becomes more engorged within me.


His load is emptying inside me.

“Thank you, boy! I needed that! I was so angry with you, I needed to relieve that tension!”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He slips out of me.

“Clean me up, boy!”

“Yes, Sir.”

I kneel and take him into my mouth. Eww! I hate the taste of my ass juices. I suck to get any remaining cum from his head. I’m rewarded with a couple drops of his salty, creamy ball juice. Yummy!

“Get us some breakfast, boy! Then, we’re gonna take a little ride.”

“A ride, Sir? Where are we going, Sir?”

“It’s a surprise, boy!”

A surprise? I thought he was pissed at me. Is everything forgiven? Perhaps I’ll get off with my paddling. That wouldn’t be too bad. I mean, my ass hurts, and I’ll probably have blisters, but that isn’t the end of the world.

I fix us some breakfast. I elect to eat standing up. Um… yeah.

After we eat, I clean everything up. Then, I head to the bathroom for my morning routine.

Sir is waiting for me when I come out.

“All cleaned up, boy?”

“All finished, Sir.”

“Good. Hop in the truck and we’ll be off.”

I immediately start to head for my room to get dressed.

“Where are you going, boy?”

“Um… to get dressed, Sir?”

“No need, boy. While you were cleaning up, I grabbed you a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I stuck your wallet in the back pocket of the shorts. They’re in the truck already.”

“Um… okay.” So, I need to go out to the truck to get dressed? What the hell? Sometimes you don’t make any sense, Sir.

Sir is dressed. He’s wearing a sexy pair of tight black jeans that show off his ass. He’s also wearing black boots and a t-shirt.

“I gotta grab my cell phone!”

“You won’t be needing it, boy.”

I won’t be needing my cell phone? I ALWAYS need my cell phone! I open my mouth to protest, but I think better of it as I search Sir’s face. He’s in no mood for any of my lip. Where can we possibly go where I won’t need my cell phone?

I head for the garage with Sir right behind me. He follows me around to the passenger side and opens the door for me. That’s weird!

“In you go, boy!” He swats my sore ass.

“OUCH!” I clamber up and into my seat. Where are my clothes?


He closes my door, walks around, climbs into the driver’s seat, and buckles up.

“Put on your seatbelt, boy!”

“I thought I needed to put on my clothes, Sir!”

“No need, boy. Buckle up!”

I would argue, but I don’t want another paddling. I put on my seatbelt and keep my mouth shut. So, I’m supposed to ride around naked except for my collar and chastity cage? Is this even legal? What if we get pulled over? Where can I go naked?

We back out of our garage, and onto our street. We exit the subdivision, and head for the freeway.

Once on the freeway, we head for a part of town I’m not familiar with. When we finally exit the freeway, we appear to be in a warehouse district.

What a shithole!

There’s trash piling up in the gutters. No one’s in sight. Why are we here?

“This will be an unpleasant experience for you, boy. Punishment is supposed to be unpleasant. You will be restrained, and you’ll need to be patient until you’re released. They will provide you with a safe word, boy. You are free to use the safe word. However, if you do, know that I will be deeply concerned.”

Oh crap! ‘Deeply concerned’ is code for ‘we may need to reconsider our relationship’. Fuck! I guess I really messed up this time.

Wait a minute. They? Who’s they? Safe word? Why would I need a safe word? What does he mean by restrained?

Sir slows down as we approach an intersection. We turn right, and he pulls over and parks. Why are we stopping here? There’s nothing here!

Sir points to our right.

“You see that door there, boy?”

What door? Oh. There’s a single black door with a doorknob. What the hell?

“Yes, Sir.”

“You see the keypad next to it?”

Oh yeah, there’s a small keypad to the right of the door.

“Yes, Sir.”

“You need to punch the following code in… nine, thirty-four, eighty-seven, eighty-eight. You got that, boy?”

“Um… what?”

“Punch in the code nine, thirty-four, eighty-seven, eighty-eight. Repeat it back to me.”

“Nine, thirty-four, eighty-seven, eighty-eight.”

“Good boy. Now, grab the sack behind your seat. It has your clothes in it. They’ll call me after you’ve served your punishment and I’ll come pick you up.”

“I’ll just put on my shorts, Sir.”

“No, you won’t. Just get out, punch in the code, and you’ll be inside.”

“But… but… but… I’m naked, Sir!”

“I believe I realize that, boy. Naughty boys like you don’t wear clothes while they’re being punished. Now, GET OUT!”

Is he kidding?

“But Sir! I could get arrested!”

“Do you see anyone else around at all, boy?”

I look ahead and behind us. No, there isn’t anyone around.

“Um… no, Sir.”

“This is your incentive to run to that door, punch in that code and get inside as quickly as you can. Now, repeat the code back to me.”

“Um… nine…”

“Nine, thirty-four, eighty-seven, eighty-eight.”

“Nine, thirty-four, eighty-seven, eighty-eight. Got it, Sir.”


Fuck! He’s really pissed! I grab the bag behind the seat, check up and down the street, and open the truck door.

I scan up and down the street again.


I stop breathing. I get out, slam the truck door behind me, and bolt for the door. It’s locked. My hand is shaking while I punch in the code. I don’t want to press a wrong number.


I turn the knob. Fuck! This door’s heavy! It’s solid metal.

I turn back just in time to see Sir drive off. Well, I guess I’m committed now.

I step inside. My feet are greeted with cold, hard concrete.


The heavy door slams shut behind me. There isn’t any knob on this side! I push on the door. It’s locked. I’m trapped! I cover my caged junk with my hands. But at least I can start breathing again. Where am I?

I’m in a short corridor. There aren’t any windows, just harsh fluorescent lighting. The walls are cinderblock. They aren’t painted or anything, just the bare cinderblocks. There’s a beat-up wooden bench running along the left wall. On the right side, about four feet high, there’s a counter. Wire mesh goes all the way from the ceiling almost down to the counter, leaving about a four-inch gap. Under the counter, piled against the wall, there are a bunch of black plastic crates. There’s a dude behind the counter texting on his phone. He’s built! I wouldn’t want to mess with him. At the end of the corridor, there’s a black door with a sensor to the right of it. What a dump!

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Okay, the door just made a really loud bang as it closed. I’m standing here naked as the day I was born. If I were this dude, I’d want to know who the hell I was.

“Ahem…” I clear my throat to let the guy know I’m here.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

The dude just keeps texting. What the heck? Can’t you see I’m standing here? Are you blind? Are you deaf?


Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. The guy continues to text. He’s smiling. It must be an entertaining chat.

“Um… hello?” I’m beginning to get annoyed.

“Just have a seat. I’ll be with you in a sec,” the guy says, irritated.

Well, excuse me for bothering you dude. I’d leave but I can’t! I examine the worn, dirty bench. Eww! I’m not putting my bare ass on that! I might get a splinter! Shit!

“Um… I’ll just stand.”

“Suit yourself.”

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

What even is this place? Why would Sir send me here?

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

I’m pissed! I stand and stare at the dude. Notice me, damn it!

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

The guy lets out a deep sigh.



“Your identification. I need to see your passport, driver’s license, or other form of government-issued identification. Need to ensure you aren’t a minor,” he says, annoyed.

“Um…” I’m naked, dude! How the fuck can I have ID? Then I remember that Sir said my wallet’s in the back pocket of my shorts. I set my sack on the bench, find the wallet in my shorts, and slide my driver’s license under the wire mesh to him.

He enters some stuff into his computer. A printer bangs something out.

“Okay, boy. Give me your wrist.”

“Um… my wrist?” Did he just call me ‘boy’? Only Sir calls me that.

“I need to secure your I.D. bracelet so we know who you are.”

“My bracelet?”

“Just pass your right wrist over the counter, boy.”

I comply. I’m pissed that he keeps calling me ‘boy’; I’m a man, damn it!

He wraps a plastic band around my wrist and secures it with a tool of some sort.

“Your number’s 7833, boy.”

“Um… my number?” I have a name! I extract my hand and look at the ‘bracelet’. I feel as if I’ve been admitted to the hospital. There’s wording on the bracelet. It says, “Redemption Facility, Davis, Chase, #7833” and includes the date. What the fuck?

“Yes, your number, boy. It’ll be called when your Sir retrieves you.”

I still don’t know why I need a number. Can’t you just call my name?

“Okay, boy. This is your first time at this facility. Do you know why you’re here?” he asks as he returns my license.

“Haven’t a clue.”

“You’re here to be punished, boy. There are a few things I need to go over with you before we administer your punishment.”

Punished. Great. What does THAT mean?

“First, the safe word is ‘Medical’. If you have any issues that you believe may require medical attention, simply state the word ‘Medical’ loud and clear to a staff person, and you’ll be released immediately. If you use the safe word without good reason, you’ll be banned from this facility for life. No amount of money will be accepted to readmit you. Do you understand the safe word and its use, boy?” he asks.

“Um… the safe word is ‘Medical’?” What the hell am I gonna need a safe word for?

“That’s right, boy. When should you use the safe word, boy?”

“Um… if I think I require medical attention?” Geesh! What the hell are they gonna do to me. Why would I need medical attention? I’m beginning to get worried.

“What happens if you use the safe word without good reason, boy?”

“Um… I’ll be banned from this facility for life?” What’s so bad about that? I wanna get out of this dump as quickly as I can and never come back. Ban me, already! Ban me now!

“Very good, boy. You were listening after all,” he says with a smirk. He continues, “Second, there will be no sexual contact of any kind on the premises. That includes between you and any staff member, or between you and any other miscreant. Do you know what a miscreant is, boy?”

“No idea.”

“A miscreant is a person who behaves badly. A person who breaks the rules.”

“Okay. Good to know.” Who cares?

“It says here that you broke your Sir’s rules by behaving poorly in a restaurant. You became impatient and treated your server rudely. You embarrassed your Sir.”

“Um… yeah, I guess so.” Now, I’M embarrassed. Warmth rushes to my cheeks. How does he know about that?

“You failed to treat your server with respect. You were impolite and inconsiderate. That makes you a miscreant, boy!”

“Oh. Okay. Whatever!” This dude’s really pissing me off! Don’t preach to me!

“What is the second rule, boy?”

“Rule?” I’m confused.

“About sexual contact?” He looks at me as if I’m a complete imbecile.

“Oh. I won’t have sex with a staff member or anyone else?” Is that what he’s looking for?

“That’s the one, boy. You’ll always be able to tell the difference between a fellow miscreant and a staff member. All miscreants are naked, and all staff members wear this uniform like me. I just need you to sign this document. It states that we’re not responsible for anything that happens to you here and that you’re voluntarily submitting to any treatment we give you. This is your last chance to back out unless you use the safe word. Do you understand, boy?” He shoves a piece of paper my way.

“Treatment?” What treatment?

“Yes, boy. Today you will be subjected to four different types of restraints for a period of one hour each.”


“Yes, boy. The yoke, the pillory, the stocks, and the foot stocks. I guess your Sir wants you to experience a variety of restraints today.”

“So… I’m not gonna be whipped or paddled or anything?”

“No, boy. We won’t lay a hand on you.”

“So… I just sit in these restraints for an hour each?” I mean, how hard is that?

“That’s correct, boy.”

“I’m not even sure I know what these restraints are.” What’s a yoke? I thought a yoke was used to secure oxen. I’m not a cow!

“That’s the beauty of it, boy. You don’t need to know. You just need to endure each restraint for one hour.”

“Well… I guess that’s okay then.” What the hell? I sign the paper and push it back to him.

“Okay, boy, this is what’s going to happen. You’re going to pick up one of the crates under the counter. Then, you’ll take this keycard and walk to the door at the other end of the room. Place this keycard over the sensor next to the door,” he says, handing me the card. “It’ll open the door. You’ll step into another hallway. The door in front of you can only be accessed by staff. Turn left. Walk down the long hallway with numbered doors down the left-hand side. The keycard will only open the door marked “3”. Go into the room, I see you’re already naked, remove all your jewelry, and drop your jewelry and sack in the crate. Since you’ll be restrained, you’ll find an external catheter. Put it on. We don’t want you peeing all over the place. When you’re ready, push the call button next to the door, and a Minder will take you to our punishment room to begin serving your punishment. Do you understand these instructions, boy?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I don’t know about this. I hang onto the keycard, grab my sack, and pick up one of the crates.

“What room number does the keycard open, boy?”

“Um… three?”

“Do you have any questions, boy?”

“Um… not right now.”

“Do you have to take a shit?”

What? That’s kinda personal!

“Um… no…”

“Okay then, boy. You’ve got your crate, and you’ve got your key. Be on your way then, boy,” he says with a wave of his hand.

Bastard! Big man behind the counter! Woopie! Gee, look at me, I work in a cage! I’m SO impressed! I head to the black metal door. I position the keycard over the censor.


I pull the heavy door open. I’m not surprised there’s no handle on the other side. I step into another corridor. It’s dark in here!


Yeah, I guess I’m not gonna be continuing my conversation with the friendly greeter. Too bad! The door ahead of me has a sign that says, ‘Miscreants Must Be Accompanied by A Staff Member’. To the right of the door is another sensor.

I put my keycard over it. What the hell?


Well, it was worth a shot! What an obnoxious sound! The door’s still locked.

I turn left. There are numbered doors down the left-hand side beginning with number one. The corridor is dark because there aren’t any windows. There are only a few dim lights in the ceiling. I walk down the corridor until I find the door marked with a large number ‘3’. The door’s locked. I put the keycard over the sensor to the left of the door.


I yank on the handle and open the door. I step into a fuckin’ closet!


I push on the door. It’s locked! I’m trapped in a space that can’t be larger than 5’ by 5’! Luckily, the ceiling’s about 12’ high. There’s another piece-of-shit bench along the left wall. There’s something laying on it. On the right wall, there’s a full-length mirror. There’s a small trash can in the corner. They need to fire their decorator. I mean, seriously!

I set the crate down on the bench and place my sack in it. I hope no one steals my wallet.

What’s this crap on the bench? Oh yeah, the external catheter. Whatever. I open the package. I unroll the thing onto my cage. Sir got me a metal cage. At least I can see my dick. I don’t know when he’s gonna let me cum again since he’s so pissed at me. That sucks.

I guess I’m ready to call my ‘Minder’, whoever that is. Is that like a babysitter? On the right-hand side of the door, there’s a keycard sensor. Right under that, there’s a transparent button with a ‘Call’ sign over it.

Can I just leave? I put the keycard over the sensor.


You guessed it… nothing happens. Without any other option, I push the ‘Call’ button. It lights up. At least something works in this dump.

I eye the crappy bench. Yeah, no telling what disease I’d get from sitting on that with my bare ass! Fuck that shit!

I play with my catheter. I don’t want any leaks! That’d be embarrassing. I play with my balls. Poor things are full of cum. I guess they won’t be giving up their load anytime soon.

I hope this ‘Minder’ dude isn’t texting his boyfriend or whomever. I just want to hurry up and get this shit over with.


The door opens, and this guy steps into the room.


Clink, clink, clink, clink, clink.

The chain on a pair of leg irons he’s holding is rattling. What’s he gonna do with them? I gotta admit, he’s not bad looking. He’s got some serious muscles. His chest fights against the restriction of his gray t-shirt. Black hair covers his sinewy legs. Are those handcuffs on his belt?

“Okay, boy,” he says, “Let’s have a look at you.”

I cover my caged dick. So, he’s gonna call me ‘boy,’ too?

“Hands at your sides, boy. I need to ensure your catheter is on properly.”

“Whatever gives you a thrill, dude.” I uncover my junk.

Wow! If looks could kill, I’d be vaporized!

“Miscreants are to address their Minders as ‘sir’! I can assure you I find nothing thrilling about your pathetic boy nub locked in its tiny chastity cage.”

Ouch! Hey! I have a nice dick! Sir locked it in this small cage. It didn’t have a choice! Heat rises in my face. This is embarrassing.

He gives my junk a quick glance as he looks me over.

“Any jewelry besides the collar and chastity cage?”


He gives me another dirty look.

“Um… nope, sir?” What the fuck? The guy can’t be much older than me! Who does he think he is?

“That’s better. Do you have to take a shit, boy?”

Geesh! Again, with the shit stuff! Are these guys into scat or what?

“Um… nope… sir.”

“Okay, boy. If, during your sentence, you really need to take a shit, let us know. We’ll add a bit to your sentence, but if you shit while you’re in our punishment room, that’s a health and safety issue, and you’ll be banned for life. Also, if you feel you’re going to throw up, let us know. It’s the same health and safety issue.”

I just look at him. I’m not going to take a shit in your precious punishment room, dude! I’m not gonna throw up. Oh gee! Please don’t ban me for life, sir! Please… anything but that, sir! I’d never again be able to come here and have you check out my willie!

“Okay, boy. Turn around and face the wall, it’s time to slap these cuffs and leg irons on you.”

“Is that really necessary? Look, I’m naked. All the doors are locked. I’m not going anywhere!”

“Those are the rules, boy. The rules say I gotta cuff and leg iron miscreants. And YOU are a miscreant. I’m just doing my job.”

“Whatever.” I shake my head and turn around and face the wall. This is a real pain in the ass.

“Wow! Looks as if someone’s already punished your butt.”

“Yeah, I got paddled this morning. It’s no big deal.” Warmth floods my face. I wish the guy didn’t have to see my paddled behind.

“Toes touching the wall, boy! Press your nose up against the wall!”

I let out a deep sigh. I push my toes up against the wall. I press my nose against it.

“Happy now?” I ask.

“Ecstatic,” he answers.

Cold metal contacts my right wrist.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick. The arm of the cuff slips through to come back around and trap my wrist.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick. Unyielding steel encircles my wrist.

My right hand is dragged behind my back by the cuff. My left hand is grabbed and jerked back to meet it.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick. The business-end of the other cuff is pushed through to swing around and snare my left wrist.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick. Bare metal tightens around it. Crap! He’s got me.

Click, click. The cuffs are double-locked. Their weight pulls them down onto my hands.

I try to pull my hands apart, but the cuffs bite into my wrists.

I jump as chains rattle and crash to the floor. What the hell?

“Easy, boy. I just gotta put your leg irons on.”

Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.

Solid steel closes around my right ankle.

There’s more chain rattling. I guess to get the other cuff to my left ankle.

Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.

An inflexible band compresses my left ankle. Geesh! These guys are serious!

Click. Click. He double-locks the leg irons too.

I look down at my tethered feet. Crap!

“Okay, boy, turn around.”

Clink, clink, clink, clink, clink.

My leg irons rattle as I turn to face him.

“You have been sentenced to spend one hour each in the yoke, pillory, stocks, and foot stocks. Do you have any questions?”

“Yeah, what’s a yoke?”

“You’ll find out in five minutes, boy. Any other questions?”

“Um… I guess not.”

“Okay boy, I’ll get you sorted.”

He steps behind me, grabs hold of my right bicep, and places a keycard over the sensor.


He pushes the door open.

“Watch your step, boy. We don’t want you tripping over your leg irons.”

I start to take a step.

“Ouch!” The cuff digs into my right ankle. He steadies me so I don’t fall over.

“You need to take shorter steps, boy.”

I shuffle out of the room with my leg irons rattling away.


We retrace my earlier steps as I’m pulled down the corridor, shuffling along as fast as I can. At the end, he places the keycard over the sensor of the door on our left.


He pulls it open and drags me into a large, dismal warehouse.

My nose is bombarded by a fetid odor. The space is warm and humid with sweaty male bodies. There aren’t any windows. A few florescent lights in the high ceiling dimly illuminate the pathetic guys in all sorts of restraint. It looks like a medieval dungeon. My groin tightens as my dick struggles to get hard. Why? This place sucks!

There are jail cells along the far wall. A barrier of thick, metal bars ensures their captives stay put. In one cell, a naked man stands with his hands gripping them. A hefty chain connects two thick metal cuffs that dig into his arms. Another solid chain joins two cuffs locked around his ankles. Ten pillories stand tall near the wall on my right. Three guys are in them, stooped over, their heads and hands caught in the heavy wooden frames. Their legs are hobbled by leg irons like mine. They’re facing the wall, their bare butts on display. The floor swallows tubes attached to their catheters. Attached to the same wall by a short chain are guys with their head and hands locked in wooden blocks. The guys are slumped over, I guess from the weight of the blocks. They also have leg irons like me. They’re all wearing catheters attached to plastic tubing that disappears into the floor.  Along the opposite wall is a row of naked guys sitting on the cement floor with their feet secured in heavy railroad ties. They’re facing the wall. Their hands are cuffed behind their backs. In the middle of the room are some metal cages. A few of them are standing cages, others are for sitting. A couple of them hold a nude man. Along the same wall as the door we just passed through is a row of (maybe 10?) stocks. There are five nude guys sitting on a long wooden bench with their hands and feet locked between bulky wooden frames. They’re also stuck facing the wall. It’s a scene from a horror movie!

I’m hauled over to the wall with the wooden blocks. We pass one poor guy, hunched over in his wooden prison. There’s a timer behind him, but he can’t see it. It looks like he’s got 45 minutes left to suffer. I feel sorry for him.

“Here we are, boy. Take a seat.”

“Huh?” Where is ‘here’?

“I’ll help you. Just bend your legs.”

His arms grasp my shoulders as I bend my legs. He slowly lowers me down until my butt hits the cold concrete. Ouch. I’m reminded of my paddling.

“Face the wall and cross your legs. Your leg irons will allow you to do that.”

I maneuver to face the wall. My feet touch it. I’m horrified to see a heavy wooden block hanging from the wall in front of me. It’s got a big hole in the center for my neck, and two smaller holes out to the sides for my wrists. There are stains around the holes where guys’ sweat has seeped into the wood. This must be a ‘yoke’. There’s a thick iron ring stuck in the wall. One end of a thick, chunky chain is padlocked to it. The other end of the chain is padlocked to one edge of the block. Its jaws are open, waiting for its next victim. Me!

“Are you seriously gonna lock me in that thing?”

“That’s the idea, boy. Just relax. It’ll be okay.”

Sure. Easy for him to say!

He pulls out his keys and unlocks my handcuffs. I rub my wrists. They’re already sore. Geesh! I was only wearing them for a few minutes. I position my leg irons further up my legs so they won’t dig into my ankles.

“You see that tube coming out of the floor, boy?”

What tube? I scan the concrete in front of me. There’s a tube laying on the floor. It disappears down a hole.


“Grab it and insert it in the end of your catheter, boy. We don’t want any accidents.”

I stick the tube into the end of the catheter. At least I won’t have to sit in my pee.

“Good boy.”

He grabs that terrible hunk of wood, opens it wide, and brings it down over my head. The edge of it hits the back of my neck.

“Lean forward a bit, boy. Put your hands up on either side of your head.”

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I want to scream, ‘MEDICAL’! I lean forward and slowly raise my hands. I don’t want to be locked in this monstrous instrument!

The backs of my arms smack against wood.

“You’re doing great, boy! Just line up your wrists with the two holes out to the sides.”

I move my hands back and forth along the wooden edge until they sink into their indentations.

He squeezes the ends together, causing the holes to trap my neck and wrists.

I try to remove my hands, but they’re stuck! Crap!

A latch rattles.


That was a padlock! I’m fucked!

“You’re all set, boy. I’ll set your timer for one hour. I’ll be back to check on you. You need to sit here and learn some patience.”

His footsteps recede away from me.

I’m pissed! I jerk back.

“Ow!” Wood digs into the back of my neck and wrists. The chain is taut. I can’t go back any further.

I lean forward a bit. The block stops biting into my neck and drops down on my collar bone. I raise my arms to get the weight off it. This isn’t too bad.

All I can see is the chain that holds me to the wall, and the wall. What am I supposed to do now? How is this gonna teach me patience?

I stretch my neck and move my hands around. I can rotate my hands, but I can’t pull them through the holes. When I try to pull them out, the full weight of the board rests on my collar bone. Ouch!

I try to move my feet, but they’re wedged up against the wall. I can’t uncross my legs.

I turn to look at the guy on my right. He isn’t looking around. He’s just staring at the wall.

“Psst! How you doin’?”

A deep groan comes out of him.

Geesh! That well, huh? That sucks.

I push my arms into the holes as far as they’ll go… not far. That lifts the board right up under my chin. This position removes the most strain from my collar bone. But I can’t hold it forever. The board isn’t that heavy. It’s just that holding my arms up is tiring. I’m gonna wear myself out. But if I rest my arms, this fuckin’ board’s gonna dig into my collar bone. Crap! This sucks!

I look over to the guy on my left. He’s leaning back. The yoke’s cutting into his neck. But at least the board isn’t resting on his shoulders. I guess that’s what I’m gonna need to do.

I lean back. The collar in the yoke gouges into the back of my neck, but there isn’t any more weight on my shoulders. I relax my arms. Oof! The wrist holes dig into my wrists and hands. At least I can relax my arm muscles a bit.

Okay. I know the guy on my right has 45 minutes left. When they come to release him, I’ll know I only have 15 minutes left to go. Fifteen minutes isn’t that long. I’ll just need to hang on.

I suck in a deep breath and hold it. I let it out slowly. Deep breaths, Chase… deep breaths. You can do this, dude. This hurts, but I know Sir will forgive me for being rude after I endure this terrible punishment. Hell, maybe he’ll even let me cum.

Should I try to count seconds? Will that help get me through this? Or will it just make it seem longer? My neck and wrists are gonna have creases in them after this. I mean, to be fair, the edges are rounded. But my trapped wrists hurt because the weight of each arm is resting on them. It feels like someone’s digging a trench along the back of my neck. But I gotta keep the board off my collar bone. It just hurts too much.

I gotta think of something relaxing. Maybe a beach. Yeah, that’s it. The waves are rolling onto the beach. Hot guys are getting in and out of the water. Let’s make it a nude beach! That’s MUCH better! Sexy, hairy male asses are going into the water. Guys with big cocks are leaving it to soak up some sun. Their cocks are swaying from side to side. Their balls are bouncing in their hairy scrotums. Oh hell, yeah! Cage pressure tells me my own cock is totally getting into this.

“How you doin’, boy?”

My Minder has returned. He totally snuck up on me.

“Um… This sucks. My neck and wrists hurt like hell.”

“Yeah, the yoke isn’t easy, boy. But you’re doin’ good! Just hang in there. Soon, I’ll be locking you in the pillory.” He slaps me on the back and leaves.

Great! I get to look forward to the pillory. But there, I’ll be standing. The back of my neck will get a break. I close my eyes and go back to my beach scene.

* * * * *

“Medical! Medical! I can’t take this shit anymore!” It’s the dude on my left. He’s bugging out! And here I was about to get it on with a guy on my beach.

“Medical! Medical!”

Within seconds, three Minders are with the dude.

“Okay, let’s get you out of there,” one of them says. He unlocks the padlock and swings open the yoke.

“God! I just can’t take it anymore,” the poor dude says, shaking his head and his hands.

“That’s okay, man. Hey, can you do me a favor and disconnect your catheter tube please?”

“Um… sure.” The dude disconnects the tube from his dick.

“Great. Thanks. Here, we’ll help you up.” A Minder gets on each side of him and hauls him to his feet.

“It’s just too much. I’m sorry. I’m in too much pain.”

“It’s okay. Just calm down. We’re gonna take your leg irons off now.” They remove his irons.

“Would you like us to call 911?”

“No. That won’t be necessary. I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“We’ll take you to the showers, then we’ll have our medical staff check you over.”

“Okay. That’d be great. Thank you.”

With a Minder on each side of him, they help him out of the punishment room.

Wow! At least I know what happens if I can’t take it anymore. Sir would be pissed at me, though.

I try to adjust my position a bit. Anything to get more comfortable. It isn’t possible. Ow! The concrete floor isn’t making the blisters on my butt feel any better.

“Are you okay, boy?”

My Minder’s back.

“Yeah, but this really hurts.”

“I know, boy. The yoke is a real punishment. The pillory will be better, boy. I promise. Look, you’re halfway through. You can do it, boy!”

“I’ve only been in this thing 30 minutes?” Crap! I thought it had to be close to 45!

“You’re doin’ great, boy!” He pats me on the back and leaves.

I let out a groan. I’m sweating. It’s work to keep changing my position every few minutes. I need to use the muscles in my arms, shoulders and back. I roll my shoulders as much as the board will allow.

I try to go back to my beach scenario. The problem is, I’m overheated, so I feel the sun on my beach baking me. Crap.

* * * * *

“Okay slave, let’s get you out of there!” Another Minder attends to the dude on my right. I guess I’m down to 15 minutes. Thank God!

They have him remove the tube from his catheter, then wrap up the tube and put it in a biohazard bag. They hand him a new tube to stick through the hole. It’ll be laying there for the next sorry dude.

The Minder leads him away. I guess his punishment’s over. Lucky guy!

My ankles hurt. Why? I can’t see them on account of the yoke. I move my legs a bit. Oh. I’m sitting cross-legged. I’m wearing leg irons. My ankles are pressing into the concrete floor. The trouble is, there are metal cuffs between the floor and my leg. They’re cutting into my ankles. I guess they slid back down. Crap! That won’t be a problem when I’m standing in the pillory. I can’t wait to get locked in the pillory! I never thought I’d be thinking that before! The other nice thing about the pillory will be that I won’t be sitting on my blistered ass!

Okay, Chase. You just gotta hold on a few more minutes. I change my position more frequently… probably every minute or so. Sweat runs into my eye. It burns! Crap! I can’t do anything about it. I blink and blink and blink to try to get tears to wash it out.

Now, my nose itches. Ahhh! I HATE this! I move my useless hands frantically. Yeah, each hand is about a foot and a half away from my face. Wait a minute. Maybe I can lean forward enough to scratch my nose with the wall chain! I try to scootch forward. Yeah, the yoke slams down on my collar bone, but who cares? I gotta scratch my nose! Why isn’t the chain getting any closer? Oh. It’s padlocked to the front of my yoke. It’s about six inches away from my face. Crap!

“Boy! What the hell are you doing?” My Minder has returned.

“Trying to scratch my nose!”

“Well, let’s get you outta that thing so you can scratch it.”

“Thank you, sir. That would be great.”

“Oh… so NOW I’m sir, am I?”

“I’ll call you sir, Lord, Master, whatever you want… just please, please, PLEASE get me outta this thing!”

“Okay, boy.” He takes a ring of keys from his belt and undoes the padlock.

Chink! The latch is flipped back. He grabs both sides of the yoke and opens it, freeing my trapped hands and neck.

Ow! I’m stiff and sore! But relief floods over me as I scratch my nose. I roll my shoulders, shake out my arms and stretch my neck.

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, boy.”

What’s that smell? Crap! It’s me! I stick my nose near my pit. Eww! I smell gross!

“God, I stink!”

“Getting punished is hard work, boy. I need you to disconnect your piss tube from the catheter, roll up the tube, and put it in this biohazard bag.”

I comply. He hands me a clean tube to replace it. I feel very sorry for the next guy that needs to attach it to his dick.

“Stand up, boy. I’ll help you.”

I try to stand up. I’m stiff! My legs don’t want to work. He grabs me by my bicep and helps me up.

“Let’s get you in a pillory, boy!”

It’s as if heavy weights have been attached to my legs. Luckily, I don’t have far to walk. We step up to the first open pillory.

“Step around here, boy.” He guides me to the side.

I step up on the wooden platform. The pillory looks exactly like the yoke. It has a large center hole that’s gonna hold my neck, and two smaller holes on each side that will confine my wrists. Like the yoke, sweat stains are embedded around the holes. At least this time, I’ll be standing. I stretch some more. I step up to it.

He hands me tubing to attach to my catheter.

I comply.

He throws up the latch.


The pillory complains as it’s opened.

“In you go, boy!”

I don’t want to be stuck in this thing for an hour, but I don’t have a choice. I place my neck in the center semi-circle. I move my wrists back and forth along the edge until they find their homes.

“Good boy!”


He closes the top. He fiddles with the latch.


That would be the padlock.

“Your timer is set for one hour. I’m gonna get you something to drink, boy.”

Now that he’s mentioned it, I realize how thirsty I am.

“Thank you, sir.” I’ll call him sir if he’s gonna get me a drink.

I try to pull my hands back out of the holes. They’re stopped by wood. I attempt to contort my hands to be smaller, but they’re still stuck. Crap! I was hoping I could pull them out, do a quick stretch, and push them back in without anyone seeing me. I can push them further into the holes, almost up to my elbows, but what good does that do?

I can move my head side-to-side. I try to look up, but the back of my head hits the wood frame. If I push my head all the way in, until my shoulders touch the frame, I can look up a bit. The back of my head still hits the frame, and it isn’t comfortable, but I can look up a ways.

In the yoke, I was stuck looking at the wall. Here, I can see my bare feet on either side of the post supporting my prison. I can also see my piss tube disappear into the floor. If I push my head in all the way, I can look up to see the backs of the prisoners in the yokes. I can look to the right or left to see the guys on either side of me. Of course, my hands are kinda in the way. But the easiest thing for me to do is just relax and stare at my feet.

“Here you go, boy!” My Minder has returned. He sticks a straw near my lips. It’s attached to a bottle of ice water. I part my lips and he moves the straw so I can suck on it.

Cold water flows into my mouth and down my throat. Ahhhhh… That’s what I needed.

While I’m sucking away, I realize how helpless I am. I can’t feed myself. I can’t get myself a drink. I’m totally dependent on my Minder. I need to be nice to this guy.

I drink the whole bottle.

“Thank you, sir.” I mean that.

“You’re welcome, boy!” He leaves.

Well, NOW what? I guess getting a drink will be my only diversion while I’m trapped in this thing. I roll my shoulders as much as the pillory will allow. I move my feet a bit. I didn’t see the timers of the guys on either side of me. I have no way of knowing how much longer I gotta stand here. Crap!

But, hey! This is better than being stuck in that fuckin’ yoke! I have more freedom to move.

Why am I doing this?

I mean, I could just yell the safe word. I’d be released immediately. I could break up with Sir and live my life.

The problem is, I know I need discipline. Sir is helping me become a better person.

He’s doing that by helping me develop what he calls my ‘good boy’ traits. You know what’s odd? He follows all the ‘good boy’ traits too! Isn’t that weird? I mean, he’s a Sir. He isn’t a boy. Yet, he follows every single one of them.

The trait that’s especially difficult for me is being obedient. I was often disobedient in school and at home. In school, I’d get detention or get suspended. Luckily, I never got expelled. I feel sorry for some of my teachers who taught me. I was a real pain in the ass sometimes. I graduated high school, though!

My poor parents! I gave them a hard time. When I was younger, I had time out. When I got older, I was grounded. Of course, I’d sneak out anyway.

Sir demands obedience. At first, I rebelled. He’d put me over his lap and spank my bare bottom. Boy, was THAT a shock the first time! I’d never been spanked before! It was so embarrassing to be ass up on his lap like that. Even more embarrassing was when I cried. His big, strong hand just kept coming down hard on my vulnerable butt cheeks. It hurt! I also felt bad for making him so angry. The best part was him hugging me after my spanking. He told me how much he cared about me. I told him how sorry I was. That was great.

But then, he told me to go stick my nose in the corner. I couldn’t believe he wanted me to stand in the corner like a five-year-old. I had to move a plant to open the corner so I could stand in it. I would have refused, but I didn’t want another spanking. I also really enjoyed that hug. So, after I’m spanked, I stand in my corner.

While I stand there, staring at the intersection of two blank walls, I think about the rule or rules I broke. It seems like all of Sir’s rules are for my own good. When I break them, I’m only hurting myself.

“You doin’ okay, boy?” My Minder has returned.

“Yes, sir. I’m okay.”

He leaves. It’s great that he keeps checking on me.

Where was I? Oh yeah, obedience. I think it all boils down to trust. I didn’t trust my parents to have my best interest at heart. I should have, but I didn’t. I didn’t trust my teachers either. But I trust Sir. He’s always looking out for me. He’s proved time and time again that he deserves my trust.

So, I obey Sir. For the most part. I still need my butt warmed sometimes, but I trust him.

I feel pressure in my bladder. I drank all that water. I’ve never peed in a room full of guys before. I guess they won’t notice. I relax and let it flow. I can’t see my dick, it’s behind the post. I watch my pee make its way down the tube and under the floor. Cool!

There’s a guy locked in a yoke in front of me. He’s trying to position himself, so he’ll be comfortable. Not gonna happen, dude!

I wish I wasn’t wearing these fuckin’ leg irons. I’m kinda hunched over. If I could spread my feet farther apart, I wouldn’t need to bend as much.

Another ‘good boy’ trait that Sir taught me was being dependable. As soon as Sir took me on as his ‘boy’, I was given chores to do. Even before I moved in with him, I would clean his house on the weekend. I would also help him in the garden and with any projects he had. It felt good to be able to make his life easier.

Once I moved in, rent free, I was given TONS of chores. I didn’t always perform them faithfully. Then, I’d wind up over Sir’s lap getting a spanking, and find myself staring into my corner for a while.

But the chores taught me to be dependable. Once Sir knew I was reliable, he helped me get a great job as a server at a high-end restaurant. Yeah, I started as a busboy, but was promoted to server because they knew they could depend on me.

I guess since I’m a server myself, I expect a lot out of my servers.

Standing here stuck in this contraption is boring. It feels as if something heavy is attached to my eyelids.

I think I’ll just rest my eyes for a bit.

* * * * *

“What you doin’, boy?”

“Huh?” I jolt awake. I guess I kinda dosed off. It’s my Minder.

“We can’t have you sleepin’, boy. You’ll sleep right through your punishment.”

“Um… no sir. I’m just hanging around, sir.” What does he care whether I’m awake or not? Geesh!

A Minder comes and gets the guy to my right. Lucky dude.

“I got something to keep you awake, boy.” I thought he left! He holds up a pair of tit clamps. They have metal teeth.

“Oh please, sir. I’ll stay awake, sir. I promise.”

“I know you’ll stay awake, boy. These bad boys will be digging into your tender boy nips!”

I can’t see my tits, they’re behind the frame.

There’s pressure behind my left tit as his thumb and index finger squeeze it.

I brace for the pain.

“OW!” Yeah, bracing didn’t help. A stab of pain hits me as those vicious metal teeth sink into my tender tit flesh.

“See boy? You’re awake now!”

I struggle to get my hands out of their holes. If my right fist was free, it’d punch him right in the nose! I wonder if I could get banned for life that way. All I can do is make a fist. It’s not going anywhere.

My right tit’s squeezed.

“OW!” Sharp fangs chow down on my vulnerable nipple.

“There you go, boy! You won’t be dosing off now!” He leaves.

I HATE him! What a jerk! So what if I dose off? It’s nothing to you. I’m still trapped in this thing. Fucker!

I take deep breaths and try to think of something other than the pain. It’s as if a snake has latched on to each tit and won’t let go.

My cock attempts to plump up. Are you kidding me? What the fuck? I’m in pain here!

After a minute, there’s a throbbing ache. If I could just get my hands out of these holes, I’d be able to remove the clamps in a second. I jam my hands backwards into the holes and pull as hard as I can, but they remain trapped.

All my efforts are unsuccessful. I resort to my breathing exercises. It doesn’t stop the agony, but it makes me feel better.

I decide to think of a ‘good boy’ trait I’m pretty good at. That would be being friendly. I’m a pretty friendly guy! Especially if the other guy happens to be cute.

Hell, when I want to get into a guy’s pants? I’m the most amiable guy around. I’m even polite and considerate!

I’m also a very friendly server. Friendly servers make good tips! More accurately, flirty servers make excellent tips. I flirt with all the middle-aged women. Eww! But I make good money that way. I’d flirt with guys too, but that can get kinda tricky. I have to know for an absolute fact that they’re gay.

“Look at you, boy! You’re wide awake!”

I give him the dirtiest look I can muster.

“Boy, it isn’t safe for you to fall asleep in the pillory. You might choke yourself. It’s all about your safety.”

Oh, I want to curse at him SO BAD! But I remember how helpless I am. I’m beginning to get thirsty again. I NEED the SOB! I maintain my attitude, but don’t say anything.

“Okay boy, I’m gonna take off your nip clamps. This is gonna hurt you a whole lot more than it’s gonna hurt me.”

Yeah, no shit!

He grabs hold of the clamps.

“Brace yourself, boy.”

I grit my teeth. My poor tits are aching.

Suddenly, there’s a five-alarm fire roasting my tits.

“Oooooooowwwwwwww!” I yell. I gasp for breath.

“Your tits look chewed up, boy!”

No shit! They FEEL chewed up! I’d cuss him out, but I’m still panting.

“I’ll grab some lotion for those bad boys.” He leaves.

Tears well up in my eyes from the pain. If he comes near me with those clamps again, I’ll definitely cuss him out. I may actually use the safe word.

He reappears and rubs lotion into my tits. It hurts at first, but gradually begins to feel better.

“Cheer up, boy! Your time’s almost up! Then, we’ll get you set up in the stocks.”

I remain silent. What a pain in the ass this is!

“You want an energy bar, boy?”

Did I hear him right?

“Yes please, sir!” I’m not gonna pass up an energy bar. I’ll even pretend to be nice. I still hate him, though.

“Be right back, boy.”

How am I gonna eat it? Even when I push my arms into the holes as far as they go, they’re still sticking out straight.

“Here you go, boy!” He’s back. He shoves the bar against my lips. Well, this is humiliating! He’s feeding me like a baby! But there’s no way I can feed myself. I carefully take a bite. It tastes SO GOOD! I chew and swallow.

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, boy.”

He continues feeding me the bar bite by bite until I finish it.

“I’ll get you another bottle of water once you’re secured in the stocks, boy.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, boy. It’s about time we get you out of the pillory.”

He unlocks the padlock, throws up the latch, and raises the top portion.


“Get out of there, boy!”

I don’t need to be told a second time. I extract my head and hands, and stand up.

“Oof!” I’m stiff. I roll my shoulders and flap my arms.

“Do me a favor and disconnect your catheter, boy.”

I comply, roll up the tube, and place it in the biohazard bag. He hands me a new tube to place in the hole.

“The stocks are gonna be a piece of cake, boy. Get loosened up. Then, I need to cuff you to take you to the stocks.”


“Really, boy.”

I roll my eyes. This is so ridiculous! I keep loosening up as long as I can.

“Okay boy, let’s get these cuffs on you.”

I voluntarily offer my hands behind my back. He applies the cuffs.

“All set, boy.” He grabs me by the bicep and leads me to the edge of the pillory platform.

“Watch your step, boy.”

I step down, watching my leg irons carefully. He leads me down the row of pillories over to the stocks. There are a few guys sitting on a long wooden bench with their hands and feet stuck in holes. We head for an open spot on the bench. It’s obvious that this is where a guy needs to sit because there’s a large sweat stain imbedded in the wood where a thousand guys’ butts have sat. Eww!

“I’ll take your leg irons off, boy.” He bends down and removes them.

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, boy. Okay. I just need you to hop over the bench and take a seat.”

I look at the gross sweat stain on the bench where I’ve been ordered to sit. I look at my Minder.

“You’ve got to be kidding!”

“Um… is there a problem, boy?”

“There’s butt sweat on my seat! I’m not sitting in another dude’s butt sweat!”

He just stares at me. I guess I must be the first guy who’s complained. He looks at the seat.

“It’s just a stain, boy. There isn’t any actual sweat.”

“It’s unsanitary! A thousand guys have sat in this exact spot, sweating away. There’s sweat running down their ass cracks, picking up God knows what from their shit holes and dripping down on that seat. And now, you’re telling me to plop my butt down in all that sweat. It’s gross!” A guy’s gotta draw a line!

He looks at me as if I’ve totally lost my mind.

“Um… okay. I’ll see if I can switch out your time in the stocks for another hour in the yoke.” He stares back at me.

I blink. He’s serious. Crap!

“Okay! Okay! I’m sitting! I’m sitting! Geesh!” I hop over the bench and sit down. I imagine all those creepy crawlies throwing a party since my butt’s arrived. They’re gonna be forming a conga line across my butt cheeks. Eww! Gross! Yuck!

“Good call, boy. Be right back.”

I look at the sweat-stained holes that will soon trap my wrists. They’re SO SMALL! I can’t believe my wrists can fit in them. Heavy, wooden posts hold them securely. They’re offset with my neighbor’s so their wrists remain locked while I’m secured. The foot stocks are further away, and at the same height as the bench I’m sitting on.

My Minder reappears on the other side along the wall. He kneels, flips up the latch, and raises the top portion of the foot stocks revealing two neat semi-circles for my ankles.

“In you go, boy.”

I’m not gonna give him a hard time. I can’t take another hour in the yoke. I sigh and raise my feet to plop my ankles down in the holes.

He lowers the top half, flips the latch down, and secures it with a padlock.


“Can you get your feet out of there, boy?”

I attempt to extract my feet from the holes. I fail.

“They’re stuck, sir.”

“That’s the idea, boy. I’ll be right with you.” He walks all the way down the row of stocks and back up the other side.

“Let’s get you out of these handcuffs.” He removes them and I rub my wrists.

“You see that tube taped to the edge of the bench? Attach it to your catheter, boy.”

I comply.

He flips up the latch on the wrist stocks and lifts the top.

“You know what to do, boy.”

I place my wrists in the semi-circles. He lowers the top, flips down the latch and padlocks it.


“Have fun, boy!” He sets the timer and walks off.

I try to pull my hands out of their holes, but the holes are just too small. They keep digging into my hands.

What’s that smell? Someone has terrible BO!

Oh. It’s me. When I was stuck in the pillory, the framework kinda separated my nose from my pits. But now, my pits are airing out, inches from my nose. Eww! I feel sorry for the dudes on either side of me. How embarrassing!

“As promised, here’s your bottle of water, boy.” He holds the straw up to my lips.

“Thank you, sir.” I suck and suck until I empty the bottle.

He walks away.

Well, NOW what? What am I supposed to do for an hour? I turn to the guy on my right. He returns my look and shrugs. I shrug too. He’s not a bad looking dude. If my right hand was free, I could jerk him off. Yeah, we’re really that close.

I turn to the guy on my left. I think he’s asleep. His head is resting on his shoulder.

This is BORING!

I consider another ‘good boy’ trait. Frugality. Sir has been helping me in this department. First, I’m not paying any rent, so that’s a huge savings. I do spend some money on clothes. I like to buy tight jeans and t-shirts. But Sir is trying to slow me down by not allowing me much closet space. Ha! Ha! I do treat myself to expensive coffees, though. Sir buys all our food unless I want something special. We eat breakfast together. I try to eat something light for lunch, and grab dinner at the restaurant where I work. So, I’m not spending a lot on food.

My eyelids are heavy again. I’m gonna lean my head against my shoulder and rest my eyes. I’m not gonna fall completely asleep. I don’t want my Minder to put those tit clamps on me again.

* * * * *

I’m sitting on a hardwood floor. I haven’t been here before. Someone’s in the kitchen cutting onions. I guess he’s fixing dinner. He has a little fluffy dog. It’s running around all over the place. Then, it runs right in front of me, along my bare feet.

“Ha. Ha. Hey! That tickles!”

But he turns right back around and does it again.

“Hey! Stop that! Hee. Hee. Hee.”

He won’t stop! He just keeps running back and forth along my bare feet!

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Hee. Hee. Hee. Stop that.”

I wake up, but the tickling doesn’t stop!

It’s my Minder. He’s digging away at the soles of my feet with a feather!

I can’t stop giggling. I desperately try to pull my feet out of their holes.

“Hey!” I yell between gasps for air.

“Oh! Are you awake now, boy? Well, just to make sure…”

He plunges the feather between my toes and all around them. I’m howling with laughter. It feels as if every guy in the room is looking at me. Of course, I realize that isn’t possible. They’re all facing a wall!

“Stop, sir! Please stop!” I plead between bursts of laughter.

“Are you gonna stay awake, boy?”

“Yes! Yes! I’ll stay awake! Please stop tickling me!”

He ends by gently running the feather up and down the soles and heels of my feet. He straightens up and walks away.

I’m drenched in sweat from laughing so much. I glance over to the guy on my right. He’s smirking.

“It’s not funny!” I declare.

“It’s not?” he asks, smiling.

“No, it isn’t!”

He just sits there and chuckles. I want to punch him. I try to pull my hands out from those small holes, but they remain stuck. I groan with exasperation. Crap!

I guess it could have been worse. He could have tried to put those damn nipple clamps back on me.

My legs are sore now from trying to get them out of their holes. I’ll probably develop bruises.

Since I’m stuck here, I guess I’ll consider another ‘good boy’ trait. Cooperative. Um… at first, I didn’t always cooperate with Sir after moving in with him. I’d argue with him. However, after a few trips over his lap and staring into my corner, I’ve become more cooperative over time.

I try to be extremely cooperative at work. I leave my schedule fairly flexible. This way, if they need me to sub for someone at the last minute, I can do it. Thankfully, Sir understands and supports this completely. I also attempt to do whatever is needed. I’ll bus tables again if they’re falling behind. We gotta keep the customers happy. Happy customers tip more!

“Are you still awake, boy?” Yeah, my Minder’s back.

“Yes, sir!”

“Good boy!” He leaves. He can take that damn feather with him!

My butt hurts! This bench is hard! I try to lift a butt cheek at a time to give them some relief. I struggle to move my arms and legs. While I’m struggling, my dick presses hard against its cage. It wants out! It seems to be turned on by my being locked in the stocks. I don’t know why. It doesn’t make any sense.

Since I can’t allow myself to fall asleep, I study the wood grain in my wrist stocks. I can’t believe how boring this is.

A minder comes and gets the guy to my left. Lucky guy.

What else can I think about to pass the time? I know! How about when Sir sits on his rim seat, and I’m positioned underneath him. I imagine that muscular hairy butt heading for my face.

Oof! My dick’s really struggling in its cage.

Anyway, Sir’s butt smells great. We both keep ourselves spotlessly clean back there. We shave our cracks. Sir’s crack has a nice, musty, masculine scent. He has a nice rosebud too. I love licking his ass lips. I love it when he squirms with pleasure. I get my tongue inside him and wiggle it all around. Sir goes crazy!

I keep that scene playing in my mind. Sir’s butt firmly planted on my face. My tongue rimming his hole.

* * * * *

“Are you ready for your last restraint, boy?”

“The last one, sir?” Thank God!

“Yes, boy. Your feet will be trapped in the foot stocks. It’s easy, boy. You just need to sit there and ponder the error of your ways.”

He unlocks the padlock on my wrist stocks, flips up the latch, and opens the top.

“You’re free, boy.”

I remove my wrists and rub them. There’s a red ring around each of them where they were stuck in their holes.

“Disconnect your catheter, boy.”

I comply, roll up the tube, and put it in the biohazard bag. He hands me a clean one for the new victim. I push it down into the hole. There’s tape attached so I can stick it to the edge of the bench.

“I just need to cuff you, boy.”



I sigh and place my hands behind my back. He applies the cuffs.

“I’ll get you out of those foot stocks, boy.” He walks to the end of the row of stocks and back up along the wall. He kneels and unlocks the padlock. He flips up the latch and opens the top.

I pull out my feet. It feels great to set them on the floor again.

“Let’s get you out of here, boy.” My Minder grabs hold of my bicep.

I stand up, turn around and hop over the bench. My feet have a lot more freedom without those leg irons.

He leads me down the back of the stocks. We turn right. Now, we’re at the back of all the poor souls trapped in the foot stocks. He marches me down to an open position.

“Take a seat, boy.”

He helps me plop my ass down on the hard concrete. There are holes in heavy railroad ties waiting to trap my feet. Again, they’re offset from my neighbors’ so mine can be opened without unlocking them. There’s a tube laying on the floor ready to connect to my catheter. I can’t do it with my hands cuffed though. He flips up the latch and opens the top.

“In you go, boy.”

This is getting old. I place my ankles in the semi-circles. He lowers the top, flips down the latch, and locks the padlock.


“I’ll set your timer, boy. Your freedom is only an hour away.”

“Thank you, sir. Um… what about my catheter, sir?”

“I’ll take care of your catheter, boy.”

He puts on some rubber gloves and attaches the end of a tube to it.

So now, I’m supposed to sit here with my legs trapped and my hands cuffed behind my back. What a pain! But it beats the yoke!

If only I could listen to music or something while I’m stuck here.

“Would you like more water, boy?” He’s back.

“Yes please, sir.” I suck down the whole bottle.

I’m left to ponder the last three remaining ‘good boy’ traits. Considerate.  Well, I MUST be considerate around Sir. He demands that. I’m very considerate to hot guys because I want to get in their pants! I’m also very considerate to my customers. I get better tips that way.

I look to the guy on my right. He has a beautiful cock. I could probably suck it if no one was looking. He returns my stare.

“Nice cock, dude,” I tell him.

“Um… I’m straight, guy. This cock is reserved for my mistress.”

“Oh. Okay, sorry.” See how considerate I am?

“No talking, boy.” My Minder’s back. Crap!

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

Another ‘good boy’ trait is politeness. Okay, so I kinda fucked that one up. I wasn’t polite to our server. I was a jerk. Crap!

I see Sir’s face looking at me. He’s so disappointed. I really hate disappointing Sir like that. He’s also looking at me as if I’m an embarrassment to him. Ouch!

The last ‘good boy’ trait is devotion. If I were devoted to Sir, I wouldn’t have been rude to our server, and I wouldn’t be sitting here with my feet stuck in these fuckin’ stocks.

But Sir’s devoted to me. When I fall short of his expectations, he takes the time out of his day to get me bare ass up on his lap and paddle my butt. Then, he sends me to my corner. He ensures I stand there properly. There’s no messing around. Sir takes corner time very seriously. I must stand up straight and keep my arms down by my sides. I must keep my head still and stare directly ahead into the corner. If I start to fidget, Sir adds to my time. I can’t talk while I’m standing there either.

Sir has spent some money to ensure I got punished here. How much does this place cost, anyway? Sir spent his hard-earned money to have me restrained in all these different restraints. Crap!

When Sir picks me up, I’m gonna tell him how sorry I am for treating our server rudely. I’m a server myself. I should know better. I need to be more polite and avoid embarrassing Sir.

I’m bored. I rotate my feet as if they’re windshield wipers. My butt hurts. This floor is hard concrete.

I practice deep breathing. Inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale. I want this punishment to end.

* * * * *

“Time’s up, boy! Are you happy?”

“It’s over, sir?”

“It’s over, boy. Time to get you out of there.”

He again puts on rubber gloves. He disconnects my catheter from its tube, rolls up the tube and places it in a biohazard bag. A clean tube replaces it.

I’m so happy, I’d dance if my feet weren’t locked in these stocks.

He unlocks the padlock, flips up the latch, and opens the top portion that’s been trapping my feet this past hour. I pull my feet out.

“Let’s get you to the showers, boy. You’re a stinky, boy!”

“Don’t I know it, sir.”

He grabs me by the shoulders and helps me stand. He takes me down the whole row of foot stocks. There’s a door labeled ‘Showers’ at the end. He puts his keycard over the sensor.


He pulls the door open and we’re in a long corridor of showers. There are partitions between each one. A couple Minders are waiting for their ‘miscreants’ to finish cleaning up. We approach an empty shower.

“Let me take off your cuffs, boy.” There’s a jingling of keys as he unlocks my cuffs.

“Thank you, sir.” I stand there rubbing my wrists. They’ve been cuffed for the past hour.

“Get to it, boy. Get yourself clean. The soap is a shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.”

Yeah, not my usual products, but I’ll do anything to get this stink off.

I stand under the shower head and turn the lever.

“Aaahhhh!” Icy cold water blasts over my body.

“Miscreants don’t deserve hot water, boy.”

I shoot him a dirty look.

“Hurry up and wash off your stink, boy!” my Minder orders.

I stand outside the Arctic water and lather up, paying particular attention to my smelly pits. I also scrub my butt real good to remove all the creepy crawlies from the stocks. I rinse off gradually. I only subject a small portion of my body to the freezing water at a time. By the time I’m completely rinsed, my dick head has shriveled away from its cage. It’s trying to crawl back into my body to get warm. I don’t blame it.

My Minder provides me with a small towel, and I dry off.

“All clean, boy?”

“All clean, sir.”

He grabs me and leads me to a door at the end of the shower corridor. He swipes his keycard.


As he opens the door, I realize I’m back in the same hallway I started out in. Only this time, door number 10 is closest. I’m at the other end of the corridor.

He drags me over to door number 10, swipes his keycard, and pulls the door open.

I step inside. I notice the crate with my sack in it on the bench. There’s also a biohazard bag.

“Your stuff is there, boy. Remove your catheter, put it in the biohazard bag and seal it up. Go ahead and get dressed. Push the call button when you’re ready.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Bang! The door slams shut, and he’s gone.

I unroll the external catheter, put it in the biohazard bag, seal it up and drop it in the trash can. I slip on my shorts and my t-shirt. I check to ensure my wallet’s still there. It is. I’m good to go. Get me out of this hellhole. I push the call button.

As tired as I am, I’m not sitting on the bench. I don’t know how long I wait. Perhaps 10 minutes?

Click! My Minder opens the door.

“Did you learn your lesson today, boy?”

“I did, sir. I was rude to my server and embarrassed my Sir. I’m sorry and will try my best not to do it again.”

“Good boy. I’ll let your Sir know you’ve served your punishment. He’ll pick you up from our waiting room.”

“There’s a waiting room?”

“There is, boy. I’ll show you.” He holds the door open for me.

I can’t wait to plop my butt down on a nice, cushy chair. Maybe there will be a hassock for me to put my feet up on. Perhaps I’ll be able to order a drink.

We turn left and go the short distance to the end of the hall. Across from the door to the showers is another door. He swipes his keycard.

CLICK! He pulls the door open.

“In you go, boy. Your Sir will pick you up from here.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

I step through the doorway and step into a… cage?

BANG! The door slams shut behind me.

I’m in a jail cell! It’s like a drunk tank! Guys are sitting on the floor. There’s a toilet in the other corner. What the fuck! I thought I served my punishment!

One wall of the cell is all jail bars. The other three walls are cinderblock.

I move to the bars and grab onto them. I want out! I’m looking at another cinderblock wall on the other side of the bars.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” a guy next to me says.

“Yeah, what the fuck? I thought my punishment was over!” I complain.

“They want to reinforce that we’re miscreants,” he says.

I move to the back wall and plop my butt down on the concrete floor. Crap! This isn’t the cushy chair I was expecting.

A Minder enters through a door on the other side of the bars.

“Number 6683!” he yells.

“Here!” a guy gets up and moves to the cell door. He shows the Minder his bracelet, the Minder opens the cell door, and lets the dude exit.


The Minder slams the cell door shut. He cuts off the dude’s bracelet and they both disappear out the exit.

I don’t know how many guys come and go. I lose count.

Finally, a Minder enters and hollers, “Number 7833!”

“Here!” I jump up and head for the cell door. I show him my bracelet.

He unlocks the door, slides it back, and I’m free!


He slams it shut behind me. I prefer being on the outside of the bars.

“I’ll cut off your bracelet, boy,” he says.

I give him my arm and he uses a sharp cutting tool to cut through the thick plastic. He holds up the severed band.

“Would you like to keep it as a souvenir?”

I don’t know how to respond to that. I look at him as if he’s out of his fuckin’ mind.

“Suit yourself.” He tosses it in the trash.

He swipes his keycard over the door sensor.


He opens the door and I find myself behind a counter. There’s floor-to-ceiling plexiglass. On the other side is a beautiful lounge. Sir is sitting on a cushy leather sofa. There’s a little table with a drink on it. Since Sir is driving, I know it doesn’t have any alcohol in it. There are other people in the lounge too.

“Mr. Mason?” the Minder says from behind the counter.

“Yes?” Sir answers.

“Would you please sign out your miscreant, Sir?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake! Isn’t this embarrassing enough? Everyone looks at ‘the miscreant’. I almost want to go back into the cage. Almost.

“Of course,” Sir answers. He gets up and approaches the counter. He glances at me.

“Your miscreant has been duly punished according to your selections, sir. We return him to you freshly showered.” He hands Sir a clipboard.

What the hell am I, a truck? When Sir takes his truck to the dealer, they always run it through the car wash for him.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Sir says, signing whatever’s on the clipboard.

Fine! You don’t know what I’ve been through!

“Would you like your vehicle now, Sir?”

“Yes please, we’ll be leaving,” Sir says.

“Very good, sir,” the Minder says as he punches something into the computer.

I notice that there’s a plexiglass door in front of me. I press on it, but it won’t open. I want to get out of here!

“Have you learned your lesson, boy?” the Minder asks me.

Sir looks at me.

“Yes sir,” I answer. I just want to get out of here!

“Okay boy. You may leave with your sir,” the Minder answers while he pushes a red button on the counter.

BEEEEEEEEEEP! The door buzzes.

I push it open and head right for Sir. He opens his arms and I fall into his hug. I don’t know why I’m crying, I’m just really happy to see him.

“It’s okay, boy. All is forgiven. Let’s go home.” His arms wrap around me and hold me tight.

“I’m not angry with you anymore, boy. It’s okay.”

I don’t know how long we embrace. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. It’s just great to be back in his strong arms.

“Mr. Mason? Your vehicle is ready, sir,” the Minder behind the counter announces.

Sir breaks our embrace, pushes me back, puts his hands on my shoulders and looks into my eyes.

“Let’s go home, boy.”

“Yes Sir,” I say. I manage a smile.

We exit into a garage. Our truck is waiting for us.

“Thank you, Mr. Mason,” a valet is holding the driver’s side door for Sir. I guess I’m on my own.

I open the passenger door and climb up and into the truck.

Sir climbs into the driver’s seat. The valet closes the door.

We buckle up and pull out of the garage and onto the street. I’m so glad to be getting out of that hell hole!

“I’m really sorry, Sir. I was impolite and inconsiderate. I’m very sorry I embarrassed you, Sir.”

“You embarrassed yourself, boy. I’m afraid it’ll be a while before we go out to dinner again.”

“That’s okay, Sir. I understand. Actually, I enjoy our quiet dinners alone at home.”

“I enjoy them too, boy. Especially when you’re horny.”

“I’m horny now, Sir!”

“You’re always horny, boy.”

“That’s true, Sir.”

I lean over and start massaging his crotch with my hand.

“Mmmmm…” Sir moans with pleasure. His cock stiffens.

“Your cock needs more room to grow, Sir. It’s all bound up in your pants.”

I dive under his arms holding the steering wheel. I unzip his zipper. I decide his dick needs more freedom. I undo his belt buckle and unbutton his jeans. I stick my face in his package and nuzzle my prize in his boxers. I guide his cock through the fly. It’s engorged with blood. His cock throbs with every beat of his heart. A drop of jizz oozes through his piss slit.

I wrap my lips around his pulsating member. Mmmm. I love his sweet precum.

“Ohhh…” Sir murmurs.

I bob up and down on it, forcing it further and further into my mouth.

“That’s nice, boy.” Sir removes his right hand from the wheel and starts stroking the back of my head.

Up and down, up and down.

“Good boy.” He begins thrusting into me. His cock hits the back of my throat. His hand clasps the back of my head. I can’t back off his cock. He hammers my throat.

“Oh! Take my cum, boy! Take it all!”






A fountain of warm, salty, gooey cum blasts into my mouth. Sir’s big, beautiful balls produced a nice load for me.

“Oh, that was nice, boy!”

I gently suckle and nurse his cock, coaxing out any remaining drops of ball juice. My tongue thoroughly cleans his magnificent head.

Sir runs his fingers through my hair.

I return his cock to its home inside his boxers, button and zip up his jeans, and buckle his belt.

We continue down the freeway toward home.


Metal would like to thank Zac Loughty for this story!

BONUS: For many more stories by this author, visit his bdsmlr page, called Naughty Boy Stories!

gay bondage stories Zac Loughty RopedStuds

6 thoughts on “Chase”

  1. I enjoyed the simplicity of this a lot. This kid clearly lacks emotional regulation, and is fairly lacking in self awareness; it’s good that his site has taken him under his wing!

  2. Hoi, Mooi verhaal. Elk land zou een paar van dit soort disipline leerplaatsen moeten hebben !! Vrijwillig of verplicht.

  3. The boy needs the education, the boy needs the pain. Hopefully his master will send him back there soon. An extra long session in the yoke, plus permanent mean nipple clamps and a nice gag. His cock will be happy.

  4. This is a well written story. Great insight into Chase’s mental state and his realization of his need for discipline along with amazing, yet simple bondage that punishes him slowly over time. There should be a place like the facility. Makes me wonder what else happens there since Chase only experienced four of the punishments and it appears there are more possibilities.

  5. Great story. I wish a place like this really existed. I know a naughty boy who would really benefit spending time at the facility.

  6. Great story! Chase is a real hard case that needed to be dropped down a peg or two. This story is well written and hot!

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