By Mister-X/Spartan

“You’ve now been working here 10 months. We have performance reviews for all our employees at this time every year. As I’d told you when you started, you are judged by two standards, your work output and your appearance, since our group is located just outside the company manager’s door and the prospective clients that come here judge our company in part by our appearance.

If there is any area in which you are graded as unacceptable you will be given a month to improve it until it is acceptable. If you are not able to do that you will be terminated.

Your work output is good. Your attendance has been perfect. You keep up a good appearance with your clothes. However, there is one area in which you have been graded as unacceptable. This is your posture. You slump forward when working at the computer terminal. This does not look good to our prospective clients.”

When I got this job I had been working for a company that had gone belly up. I had been out of work for a couple of months, and was ecstatic to have found this job. I had no family left, and my money had just about run out, so I was facing becoming homeless. I obviously didn’t want to lose this job and be out looking for work again. It was in the defense industry, and dealt with contracts with the military. I had always kept up my appearance with my clothes, having had that instilled in me from my time in the military, had been working hard to keep fit, going to the gym regularly, and was pleased to still wear the same size clothes as I’d worn when leaving the military. But in concentrating on getting my work done I had been ignoring my posture while doing it.

“I’ll have to start working to improve that.”

“Your resume said that you had been in the Marines. You’d obviously kept an erect posture at that time. If you’d like I can help you return to that mind-set.”

“You could? That would be great.”

“It would mean giving up your weekends for me to drill you. I used to be a drill sergeant when I was in the Marines.”

“You’re kidding! You were a drill sergeant?” As he seemed to be taken aback by my reaction I realized that this might not come across as being a compliment.

“Why do you say that?”

“Drill sergeants always seem to be unapproachable, never wanting to have a normal conversation with someone. You seem to be, well, I can talk to you.”

My boss laughed at that. “We’re required to act that way when we’re drilling guys. It doesn’t mean that we’re that way all the time.”

“I don’t have anything in particular happening on weekends, so if you’re willing to do that and think it will help me improve my posture so I can continue my employment here, then I’m willing to give it a try.” Actually I had nothing going on weekends, living a pretty lonely life.

“Good. I like your work, and would like to keep you as an employee, so I’m willing to give up my weekend for that. Here’s my address and how to get there. Be there at 0700.”

“What should I wear?”

“Do you still have your old Marine uniforms?”

“Yes.” I had thought of selling them to get some money just before I got this job. I was glad now that I hadn’t.

“Can you still get into them?”

“I should be able to.”

“Then wear your winter alpha uniform.”

Back at my terminal I was making sure to keep my shoulders back and sit erect. I was also thinking that my posture wasn’t so bad as to require them to terminate me. But after I got to concentrating on the task I was working on, after a few hours I suddenly thought back again to my posture and realized that I was slumping again. I knew then that he was right and I needed to make a change.

Putting on the winter alpha shirt Saturday morning brought home to me that I had put on a few pounds since I’d gotten out of the Marines. My regular clothes, while supposedly the same size, were not quite the same. My stomach was a little bigger, my waist was a little bigger, my chest was a little bigger, and my neck was a little bigger. My Marine shirt and pants were tight in all those places. But I could still get into them.

I got up early and fixed myself a good breakfast. I figured that I would need it for the day. I reported where he told me to go a few minutes early. I didn’t want this to start badly. He was already there waiting for me.

He told me where to park the car, and when I returned to where he was waiting for me he immediately barked at me, calling me to attention. He started inspecting me, and soon I heard those orders I’d heard all those years ago in boot camp, such as “suck in that stomach!” and “shoulders back!” He spent a long time inspecting me, making adjustments to my posture, yelling each order at me an inch from my ear. He finally gave an order which I didn’t immediately respond to as my mind was wondering what I’d gotten myself into, and he yelled at me “did you hear me?!”

“Yes, sir” as I responded to the order.

“Louder! I didn’t hear you!”

“YES, SIR!”

“I will keep you standing here at attention. Any change from it and you will be punished.” When he started to leave, he roared back “eyes front!”

I don’t know how long he was gone, or if he was just behind me waiting for me to move, but when he yelled at me it came as a surprise, as I hadn’t heard him return. He immediately started me marching. I hadn’t paid any attention to where he lived, and soon found that it was quite a large area, since I marched for a long distance. There was a regular paved path for me to do this on. He spent several hours marching me like that, periodically making changes to my posture as I would start to slump a little. Finally he marched me into his home, up to what looked like a dining table, and had me sit down, still erect in the chair, eyes looking straight ahead, head and shoulders back.

I noticed another guy periodically walk past in front of me as he was preparing a meal. He was fixing quite a bit of food, more than for just the three of us, but I didn’t see any others. When food was set in front of me, I started to begin eating, only to be stopped short by further orders from my boss/drill sergeant. I was ordered back to attention in the chair.

The two sat down, and my boss introduced me to the other guy. “This is Horace. He lives here as well. He does the cooking and cleaning.” I was allowed to relax a little to shake his hand before being ordered back to attention. Finally, when the other two were ready to eat, I was also allowed to do so.

This set the pattern for the weekend. I was allowed to return home that day at about 2000, and had to return at 0700 the next morning, staying until 2000 again. I was pretty tired by the time I went to bed Sunday night.

I had started this job at the beginning of the year. After three weeks of being drilled, it was getting toward Thanksgiving. I was working hard at an especially difficult task, staring intently at the terminal screen when I was surprised to hear my boss’ voice behind me. “Your posture still isn’t acceptable. You’re going to need some additional work to get it right or you’re through here. I can provide that if you’re living at my home. There’s lots of room there. Do you rent or own?”

When I heard him I instinctively sat erect, but realized that I had been slumping badly. It took me a couple of seconds for his words to sink in, and I finally responded “I rent, sir”.

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem for you to move in with me. Can you move your things tonight?”

I didn’t have many belongings, so I said “yes, sir. But I should be paying you rent, sir.”

“How much do you pay a month now?” I told him. “Then that’s easy. Just pay me that amount a month.”

That night I found myself living at his place after having moved my belongings there. I had my own room, and ate meals at the dining table. I noticed that his place was much larger than just our rooms, having a whole other part that I hadn’t seen yet.

The next day was the day before Thanksgiving. My boss took all of us out for lunch. The others I worked with didn’t mingle, and even after almost 11 months I hadn’t gotten to know any of them. I noticed that they all wore shirts that had a much higher collar, one that went up to their chins, ones I’d never seen before. I’d looked in stores for them, but couldn’t find them. In going to lunch I noticed that my co-workers all walked stiffly erect, and also all sat erect, looking straight ahead, heads held high, much as my boss required me to do when sitting at his dining table. On noticing this, I realized that I hadn’t fit in to the group. Prior to sitting down I had wondered whether to do the same, and realized that I wouldn’t fit in if I didn’t.

There wasn’t any table talk like I had been used to at my previous job when we’d go out to lunch together. Any talk was done by my boss. He decided to talk about my attempts to improve my posture. When he said that I now was going to move into his home, I noticed a slight gasp from Gideon, the only one of my co-workers who I had exchanged any words with at work that didn’t apply to work, and when I looked at him after he had let out the gasp, I saw him look at me with wide eyes and imperceptibly shake his head back and forth. My boss also noticed this slight gesture and said “Gideon!” The effect of this was dramatic. Gideon immediately looked straight ahead again and started sweating profusely. I realized there was some unspoken message with that one word.

Back at work after we’d finished lunch, my boss came into my cubicle and started talking with me. “I’d ordered some special shirts for you to wear which will force you to maintain an erect posture. They’ve arrived, and I’ve got them at home. They’re the same size as your Marine alpha uniform shirt, so you should be able to get into them, though they will be a tight fit.”

“Sir, I’m grateful that you’re going to all this effort to help me, but I can’t allow you to pay for something like this.”

“I’m not paying for them. You are.”

This put a different light on things. I wasn’t sure I had enough money to pay for these. “How much do I owe you for them, sir?”

“They’re $100 each, and I got 10 of them, so you owe $1,000.”

I swallowed hard. That would completely wipe out my savings, and I still wouldn’t have enough. I started to sweat. “Uh, I don’t think I can afford that much.”

“That’s not a problem. Your end of the year bonus is due to be $1,020. I’ll just advance it to you now, and take the difference as interest for the extra month.”

That meant that I would be able to afford them. I had counted on that bonus for some items I wanted to get myself as Christmas presents, but I could use my savings instead for those. After thinking a minute, I said “okay, sir. Again, I thank you for your efforts in helping me retain this job.”

That evening as soon as I got to his house I got to see what his shirts were like. I was shocked. He was explaining them to me. “The inside is white leather and zips up over the neck, covering the Adam’s apple. Also you will have to keep your stomach sucked in tight to get it over it. There is built-in metal reinforcement to keep your shoulders up and back. The outer part is like a normal shirt, except for the extra high collar which goes up to your chin and is rock hard to force your head to stay erect, and the rock hard cuffs. The collar is wider open at the top to allow the tie to fit properly. Put one on and then get into your suit.”

It was, as he had said, very tight, and forced my body to maintain that erect posture. It was pressing in everywhere, only being leather instead of cotton. Plus the leather was rough on the inside. It was getting me excited. After I had gotten both the under and outer shirts on, the hard collar being attached at the back to a metal attachment at the bottom of the neck part of the under shirt, I looked straight ahead in the mirror, and saw one of my co-workers looking back at me, except that it was my face. I started wondering about this.

Then I noticed my boss looking down at my crotch with a smile on his face. I looked in the mirror to see what he was looking at, since that hard collar wouldn’t allow me to look down, and realized that my cock was tenting my pants. I started getting embarrassed, and he said “it looks like you like the shirts. I had deduced from the tight clothes you wore when you first interviewed that you were into bondage. Now I see that you are. You’re going to like it here in my home. And I’m going to like having you here. Let’s go have dinner and then I’ll show you a part of the house that you haven’t seen yet. Atten-shun!”

After being marched to the dining room and sat down, the three of us dined on a light salad. Horace said to my boss “he looks handsome in that special shirt. Did he react as you expected him to?”

“Yes.”

“Then he’ll be joining the others?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. Will the other guy be joining you tonight as well?”

“Yes.”

I wondered who ‘the other guy’ was, and what was meant by ‘joining the others’. I knew better than to ask, since I had been admonished to speak only when spoken to when in my boss’ home.

After we’d finished dinner, I was ordered back to attention, and started being marched through the house. When we got to the part of the house I had not seen before, my boss stopped me in front of a door and ordered me to parade rest. With my hands clasped behind me, I felt handcuffs being ratcheted on my wrists. I also felt shackles being locked onto my ankles, but which had a chain between so I would be able to walk.

Then my boss unlocked and opened the door, I was ordered back to attention as best as I could do with my hands cuffed behind my back, and I was marched inside and stopped, so my boss could close and relock the door. Inside the room I saw it was a long closet type corridor with clothes neatly hung up in separate sections. They all were suits, ties, and shirts like I was wearing. My boss noticed me looking at these, and said “your co-workers live here, and change in this room. You will now be moving in here with them.”

I was marched further down the corridor. As I was nearing a room at the end I could hear the sound of chains. That prepared me some, but I wasn’t prepared for what I saw when I entered the room. It was a large prison room. Each of the prison cells lined the walls in the large room, cells on the left, straight ahead, and on the right. About half of them were occupied. The cells were not large, only large enough for the occupant. Each had his ankles attached to shackles placed wide apart and several inches above the floor, so that the occupant had to stand on his toes. His wrists were brought high above him and spread apart, also placed in shackles, so that each was in a tightly spread out ‘X’ shape.

Each of the occupants had a high metal posture collar which had an extension which went under his chin to keep his head pushed up erect. Each of them had a metal device covering his cock. Each of them also had a leather gag covering his mouth which had an attached strap which was brought around behind his head.

One of the occupants was not resting on the floor like the others. His hands were spread apart like the others, but he was hanging from them off the floor with his ankles pulled wide apart and chained to the sides. To do this he was out of his cell. His body was also covered with angry red welts. His face expressed the pain he obviously was experiencing. It was Gideon.

My boss was looking at me with a big smile on his face as I was taking in what I was seeing. I was horrified as I realized that I was now going to be kept like these guys were. My boss finally said as he was looking down at my crotch “I’m glad to see that you are looking forward to moving in here.” There was no mirror, and I couldn’t look down while wearing that hard collar and being required to look ahead, nor did I have the use of my hands, so I only had his statement to realize how my cock was reacting.

I was ordered to do an about face, and I was marched back down the corridor to where the clothes were hanging up. There was another guy waiting there. He was dressed all in leathers, and was holding a whip. He had a leather hood on his face, so I couldn’t see who it was. It didn’t look like it was Horace, the only other person I’d met here. And besides, I had Horace’s question about whether the other guy would be here. I was brought to a halt, and the middle of the chain between my shackles was locked to a hook in the floor. The cuffs were removed from my wrists, and as the two stood back away from me, I was ordered to remove my clothes. The other guy cracked his whip a few times and held it up, waiting for a sign that I would not comply so he could use it on me. There wasn’t anything else I could do but comply and remove my clothes from the waist up and loosen those from around my waist.

After I’d stripped naked from my ankles up, I was now standing there in the ankle shackles with an erect cock. I was ordered to parade rest, and my wrists were again cuffed. Next one of those metal posture collars was closed tightly around my neck and locked. One of them applied an ice cube to my erect cock, and as I gasped from the shock a leather penis gag was shoved into my mouth by the other and pulled around to be buckled and locked. The first one worked my now-deflated cock into the metal chastity device and locked it. I was ordered to bend down, and a metal butt plug was worked up my ass. I’d never had anything like this done before, and it was not something I enjoyed having placed into me. When my ass finally accepted it, I was ordered erect again. Evidently the plug was touching my prostate, because my cock was trying to get erect, but couldn’t. With this, my ankle chain was unlocked from the hook in the floor, I was able to remove my pants, socks and shoes, and I was ordered to march forward.

I was marched to an unoccupied cell, the door was opened, and I was marched inside. There were chains which were lowered, each of which had a wrist shackle attached. These were pulled over and locked onto my wrists, and the handcuffs were removed. The chains were then raised until my wrists were pulled high above my head and apart while I was still standing on the floor. My legs were spread apart, and each of these was locked into one of the shackles. I was now on my tiptoes, stretched out. The two looked at me, left the cell, closed and locked the door.

The other guy went over to Gideon and cracked his whip on his body. Each whipping brought forth a blood-curdling yell from Gideon into his gag as a new welt appeared. My boss had a small leather paddle attached to a long handle which he would use to smash Gideon’s well-exposed balls in between whippings. This also brought forth a blood-curdling yell from Gideon into his gag. After about five whippings and hits my boss told the other guy “that’s enough. He still has to get back to work on Monday.” Gideon’s eyes were scrunched up from the pain.

My boss then addressed all of us. “Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. It’s the start of a 4-day weekend. The company manager and I both wish to give our thanks to you for being our guests here, and will be giving you a special treat tomorrow.” Several of the cell occupants groaned when they heard this, and my boss started chuckling when he heard this.

“Now c’mon, guys. You know that you’re all turned on by BDSM. This will be easy to take. You know how much you enjoy wearing your tight rubber cat suits, especially Gideon. Granted, your posture collars and gags will be a little tighter with that rubber on under them, but you don’t mind that. And you always enjoy those tit clamps, particularly for your morning jog with the weight attached to the chain between them. And you always enjoy having that plastic bag put over your head and tied after you finish your 5-mile jog, or at least you would if your cock weren’t in chastity. But the company manager and I enjoy watching you squirming as you try to get some air, finally removing the bag as you’re about to pass out, only to put it back again for another round. And we also enjoy watching your reactions to the electric shocks in your cock as you try to find some support for your toes as that chain attached to your posture collar slowly elevates you into the air, an inch every several minutes. I’m sure you wish you could ejaculate as you are thinking about going through that each of the next four days. Too bad you won’t be able to.

I’m sure that the new arrival is looking forward to experiencing all this for the first time. The rest of you should think back to when you got your first experience doing this. Now it’s become something that you’re used to. Of course, we haven’t gotten any of those compromising pictures of the new arrival taken yet to ensure that he doesn’t leave our happy home here, but by the end of the weekend that little requirement will be taken care of. The rest of you, of course, will help out with that, but you’ve done that before, so it won’t be new for you.

But now for Gideon. What he did was the worst act any of you could do. He tried to alert our new arrival to not come here, that all was not right. Watch and learn from Gideon’s punishment this weekend. It is just starting. Remember that if you ever try to warn someone about what goes on here, you will be severely punished as Gideon will be. Try to get some rest. Your fun will begin soon enough. Good night.”

As the door was locked after the two had left and I was left alone in the dark, my wrists and toes long since starting to hurt, I was thinking about what he’d said. He was right that I’d never experienced anything like this before, and I didn’t know how I would react to it. I’d fantasized about experiencing something like this, but reality is always different. And I realized that I was going to now be spending my life here like this, whether I like it or not, since with those pictures, finding another job wouldn’t be an option, assuming I would be allowed to leave after what I’ve learned. But when I thought back to the lonely life I had been leading away from work, I wondered whether it might not be a good thing that I at least will now have a life away from work. I can only see whether I will like it.

To be continued …

Metal would like to thank the author, Mister-X/Spartan, for this story! If you are on Fetlife, his username there is Mister-X.

See more kink at CMNM: