Long Term Confinement – Part 04

By Scribe and Stormbound

A few months after the Discipline Technologies slave warehouse was fully operational at our prison facility, we received a message from a potential client. This client indicated that he was looking to experience long term imprisonment and slavery at our facility. He indicated that he was well off and had inherited a trust fund that could automatically cover the payments for his incarceration. The candidate was in his late 20s and had no living relatives after his parents died in an accident several years prior leaving him to inherit their wealth. Recent attempts to be dominated were unsatisfactory as many masters were not harsh enough and seemed more interested in his money than true slavery or bondage.

We responded by sending a questionnaire, and his responses indicated a desire for heavy bondage, extreme discipline, objectification, slavery, and humiliation. After a few rounds of negotiation, we arrived at an agreement for his imprisonment conditions. The following is the candidates account of his arrival and confinement in our facility:

I couldn’t wait to tear open the envelope I received today from Discipline Technologies. We had discussed the terms of my confinement, and this letter finalized the date and instructions for reporting to the prison. I will serve one year closely confined in their underground prison and then serve one year as a slave in their warehouse facility. The company will make automatic withdrawals from my trust fund to pay for my incarceration. I won’t know when my term will end, but we did negotiate one way that I could end my ordeal. Every two years I will be given a choice to answer yes or no to continuing my imprisonment/enslavement or being released.

Following the instructions, I worked to put all my things into storage and arranged for my penthouse loft to be rented out. All my assets would be managed for me by lawyers from Discipline technologies acting as custodians. As the date to report approached, I found myself constantly wanking off in my now empty loft thinking about what it will finally feel like to be trapped in real inescapable harsh bondage, reduced to a prisoner and slave, instead of my normal cushy pampered lifestyle. Finally, the day to report came. After locking the door to my loft, I put the envelope with the key addressed to the lease managers into the mailbox. Now, locked out and with only the clothes on my body, I made my way to the arranged pickup location to be transported to the prison facility.

I arrived at the airport and met a man holding a sign with my name. He was dressed head to toe in leather including boots and Muir cap. He looked like he meant business and ordered me to follow him. He told me to get into his van and sit in the passenger seat. We took a short drive to a secluded spot, and he ordered me to get into the back of the van. He strapped on a leather isolation hood including gag and blindfold and told me to lie face up on the mat on the floor. He then chained me spread eagle to four eyebolts welded to the sides of the van. We drove for about an hour I figured. He made a lot of turns and I soon had no idea in what direction we were heading. My excitement kept building and my cock got harder and harder as I thought about the bondage to come.

Eventually the van came to a stop, I heard the back doors open and a couple pairs of hands grabbed me. They unchained me and pulled me out of the van, forcing me to walk between them. I couldn’t see but could tell we’d entered a building. I felt one of them reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet. After a few moments a voice said “If you’re name is X grunt once.” I grunted once to confirm my name. The voice then said “The prisoner has verbally confirmed the contract and is now under the full custody and final authority of Discipline Technologies. It is now number 806, take it to intake processing.”

The men holding me then started leading me again. I could only hear the sounds of heavy doors opening and closing. Eventually we stopped and my hands were pulled up and cuffed to a chain above my head. The isolation hood was removed but before I could see or speak a gag was stuffed into my mouth and inflated. As my vision cleared, I saw I was in a tiled shower room. The two guards were dressed in leather and proceeded to spray me down, first with ice cold water, then with a thick foam that stuck to my body with a warning to keep my eyes shut. The foam itched and stung as it was left on for what felt like forever but was probably only a few minutes. Finally, it was rinsed off with more ice-cold water, and when I opened my eyes, I saw as well as felt that I was now hairless from head to toe.

I was led from the shower to another room with all kinds of gear and equipment hanging on the walls. My cuffed hands were pulled up again and attached to a chain above my head. The guard pulled out a steel chastity cage and belt. He opened the belt and showed me the spikes which lined the tube for my dick. There were even spikes at the tip where my cock head would lie. The tube also had copper strips that I assumed were electrodes. I wasn’t sure I wanted that thing on me and I started protesting through the gag. The guard smiled and said he was happy that I liked it.

My PA was removed and a bag of ice was applied to my still hard cock. When soft, my dick was slid into the tube, my PA reattached, and a steel cover was locked around my cock and balls. The belt was tightened and locked around my waist. I couldn’t get my hands anywhere near my dick or balls.  Everything seemed quite tight, and I remembered I supplied all my measurements before coming to the prison. The chastity tube was only the size of my flaccid cock and allowed no expansion.  As my cock hardened again, I felt the spikes digging into my flesh. The guard laughed and said he hoped I had jacked off recently because I would not be able to cum for a long, long time.

Next the guard grabbed what looked like a pair of leather boxing gloves, slightly curved fingers and a separate stiff thumb, that I realized were fist mitts. My arms were lowered and the mitts were slid over my hands and then the buckles at the wrist locked shut with a snap. I found I could bend my fingers a little bit, maybe enough to grab something like a large shaft or bar, or to hold something between my two mitts, but they were otherwise useless in the thick stiff mitts.

As I processed this, a heavy clanking grabbed my attention. The guard was now holding a heavy set of combination irons and chains. The heavy collar was placed around my neck, and the shackles around my wrists and ankles. My ankles were linked by a chain about two feet long, same for my wrists. A long chain ran vertically linking the wrist and ankle chains back up to my collar. The vertical chain was a little too short meaning I could not stand fully upright, having to bend my back or legs slightly. As I struggled in the chains the guards laughed and told me they were glad I liked having another 50 pounds of weight to carry around.

Finally, the guard picked up a steel helmet. It looked like something from a medieval dungeon. Internal spikes lined the back half of the hood and the front half had spikes over the forehead and above the ears. The guard explained that the spikes would make it uncomfortable to lie down either on my back, front or side or lean against a wall. The guard locked the hinged helmet on me totally enclosing my head in steel. I had to open my mouth wide to accommodate the large silicone gag and breathing tube as the hood was closed.  I realized I could only make a few unintelligible grunting sounds. The hood was also locked to my steel collar.  Loud static began to play, and I discovered there was a speaker over each ear. The white noise was interrupted by the guard’s voice. He explained he could speak to me, if necessary, via a remote microphone. A screen in front of my eyes lit up and I could again see the room and the guard in front of me. He said there was a camera on the front of the helmet. The screen permits the slave to see its task while working but otherwise the camera is turned off. While in the prison cell, no vision is ever allowed. A microphone in the hood will pick up any sound made by me. The guard stated that I was prohibited from making any noise while in the cell. Any grunt, cry or plea through the gag would be punished by a painful shock to my dick. To provide further control, a moisture sensor under the eyes would detect any tears from me. I was not allowed to cry or weep while in the cell. If I did, I would receive more punishing shocks.

He verified that the silicone gag and breathing tube could be removed by taking off a front plate that locked to the helmet. Once he was sure the gag could be removed, the guard shoved it roughly back in and locked it in place. He informed me that I would be fed through the tube and that the gag would only be removed every two years to confirm if I wished to continue my imprisonment. My cock was still straining painfully in the spiked chastity as I began to realize just how extreme my imprisonment would be. This helmet was already heavy and uncomfortable, and the spikes would ensure I suffered constantly for the entire time It was locked on. On top of that the punishment of shocks if I made noise or cried was brutal and terrifying, and I was afraid I would suffer those shocks fairly regularly.

As I processed just what I had agreed to trap myself into the guards grabbed me and unhooked me from the chain between my mitts and the floor. A guard on each side of me took my arms and guided me forward. I had to take small steps due to the chain between my ankles. The VR screen was turned off and the white noise was turned on so that I couldn’t hear or see anything. We stopped and I felt movement. I figured an elevator was taking us down to the prison floor. I was marched forward again until the guards roughly pushed me and I stumbled forward into a wall. The screen was turned on and the static from the speakers stopped. I found myself in a small cell with a toilet on one end and a door with a food slot on the other. The walls, door and floor were covered in black rubber mats.

The guards padlocked a heavy chain welded to the wall to one of my leg irons. A steel electrical cable was attached to my hood and wound through the connecting chain to my chastity belt. I figured this powered the helmet and the shocks to my dick. One of the guards gave me a drink bottle to hold between my padded mitts and showed me how to insert my breathing tube to drink. He explained two bottles, one with water and one with a nutritional drink would be delivered twice a day. I had to return the bottles to the food slot when finished, otherwise I wouldn’t be given my next meal. The guard then told me he would lock the door and attach a seal stating that the cell could not be opened for one year. The door banged shut, the lock clicked, and the VR screen went black. The loud static filled my ears again.

I was totally isolated, horny, and a little bit scared. It was all so heavy so fast I began to worry I’d made a mistake in agreeing to this. I tried to call out to the guards and let them know I was having second thoughts, but as soon as I made a grunt I was hit by a severe and painful shock to my cock. I had forgotten that I would be punished with shocks if I made noise. The shock caused me to grunt in pain which just caused another shock. This happened several times before I managed to stay silent and stop it. By then I was trembling on the floor of the cell, my body cramping because the short combination set didn’t let me stretch out and lie flat, and I realized just how deep I had gotten myself into total bondage and imprisonment.

Eventually I calmed down enough to start crawling around the cell to orient myself and try to remember where things were like the toilet and food slot. Luckily the cell was very spartan, so it was easy to locate those few features. Feeling a little hungry I found the drink bottles of food and water and tried one. It was the food; it was bland and vile tasting and I almost retched when it hit my tongue. I fumbled to put it down and grab the other one with water to clean out the taste, but the water once again made me gag as it tasted of diluted piss. My silent gagging had caused my eyes to tear up and that’s when the shocks started again from the forbidden tears. Several rounds of shocks followed as I tried to remain silent and stop the tears.

I couldn’t find a comfortable position. If I stood, the spikes in the helmet weren’t bad but the short chain would soon have my back and knees in agony. If I lay on the floor, the spikes in the helmet would dig into my head. The longer I tried to rest on the floor, the more painful the spikes whether I lay on my back or side. I figured I could sit comfortably on the toilet, but the steel toilet rim had small spikes which made sitting more than a few minutes very uncomfortable. I could hardly believe the depravity of the designers of this cell and gear. I finally found that I could sit on the cell floor with my knees bent and get a few minutes of rest. Sleep for any long period was impossible.

I lost track of time. I knew the food and water bottles were delivered twice a day so I figured I could count up to 730 to keep track of my year in the cell. But I soon forgot which number I was on. I started over but got confused again and finally gave up. I decided I would exercise to pass the time and stay in shape. I could do some awkward pushups and sit ups on the cell floor but it was difficult with the heavy irons and short chains.

I was surprised one day by a different sensation in my chastity tube. Instead of a punishing shock for speaking or crying, there was a pleasurable electronic stroking. This made me more and more horny the longer it continued. Of course, there was nowhere for my cock to go except into the surrounding spikes. I suspected they also laced my drink with Viagra. I tried to stroke my cock and balls but the mitts and belt made that impossible. I was soon rolling on the floor in agony, begging it to stop and tears flowing from my eyes which resulted in the electro changing from pleasurable to painful.

After that the stroking would start and stop seemingly at random with no seeming rhythm to how long it was on or off for. By now I was totally disoriented with no idea of time. I began to suspect that the time between bottles was random too as one time I’d be starving other times I wouldn’t yet be hungry. Another disorienting thing was the cleaning shower that would start without warning. The water was always cold and came as a shock to my naked body. I had to rush to be sure water got into the vents on the helmet and chastity before it stopped or they would start to itch unbearably from not being clean. I think some kind of cleaning soap and some kind of hair remover were mixed into the water as my hair never started to grow and while miserable the showers did leave me truly clean.

I began to think I would never escape this torment, this total isolation. I was desperate to escape the constant discomfort and frustration. So, it came as a great surprise one day when I suddenly felt hands grab me. I struggled, confused by what was happening, until suddenly the unending white nose in my ears was pierced by a voice saying “Prisoner 806 will stop struggling or it will be punished with shocks.” Hearing something, let alone another voice, after so long in isolation caused me to immediately stop in shock. I remained numb as I felt the chain and cable keeping me in the cell disconnected from my body, and I was led shambling out of the cell between two guards gripping me tight.

“806, you have completed your one-year prison sentence. You will now begin your one year of slave labor. The gear you are wearing, helmet, chastity belt, irons and chains, will remain on for your slave duties.” The static began again and the VR screen was still dark. I was pushed back in the elevator and then guided down a long corridor. The screen came to life and I found myself in a large warehouse. There were other men, naked like me with helmets, belts and chains, lugging boxes from a storeroom onto a conveyor belt. The static stopped and a guard/supervisor told me to join the line and do the same. I was really upset that I had to wear the same restraints. I was hoping to get rid of the horrible hood with the metal spikes and gag, not to mention the chastity cage my dick was constantly trying to escape. I found I could grab a box with my mitts but the irons and short connecting chain made it a slow and difficult walk to the conveyor belt. I did rejoice getting out of the isolation cell and having the ability to see and move around more than a couple of steps.

The top of my helmet was attached to cable which ran up to a track above my head. All the slaves had similar cables. We could only move along the track. There was enough slack to bend down to pick up the boxes. Intersecting tracks allowed us pass each other and return to pick up another box. I could clearly see the room and my work but whenever I looked at another slave or guard, the image on my screen would blur. I guess there was software preventing me from recognizing any face or slave ID. This combined with the gag and white noise made any communication impossible.

After exhausting hours of lifting and carrying heavy boxes, a buzzer sounded in my helmet. A voice said, “for the new slaves, you may now move to the toilet area and the feeding area. You are allowed three bathroom breaks a day. If you wet yourself between breaks, you will be punished. If you fail to finish your food and water, you will also be punished” I followed the line of slaves into an area with several toilets and then into a room where bottles of nutritional drink and water were given to each slave. It was the same nasty tasting drink I got in the cell and I had to drink it through the same tube in my gag.

We were then returned to the same work area and had to resume the same back breaking labor. After what I assumed was a long afternoon, the buzzer sounded again. We were led to the toilets and feeding stations again. The toilet area also had water hoses which I hadn’t noticed before. The guard sprayed me down with high pressure cold water reaching the vents in my helmet and cock cage. We were then marched to the sleeping area. There was a padded bench for each slave. The overhead cable was lengthened so I could lay down. My leg chain was attached to the bottom of the bench. I could rest but the spikes inside the back of my hood made the bed less than comfortable. I was exhausted, however, and managed to get some periods of sleep.

The routine continued day after day. The long year in the prison cell, however, reduced my stamina. I found myself moving slower and slower. The guards started to hassle me. They would press a button on their remote giving my dick a painful shock. I struggled to work faster but eventually would fall behind again. A guard yelled “806 you are failing to meet your quota. You will be punished tonight. Maybe that will motivate you to work harder.” Instead of being chained to the sleeping bench that night, I was secured to a saint Andrews cross. A burley guard with bulging arm mussels grabbed a bullwhip and started striking me. He hit my back full force and I screamed into the gag. The other slaves started yelling into their gags and I realized the guards turned on the VR screens and earbuds so the other slaves could witness my punishment. After many strokes, I was dragged back to my bench and secured. The guard told everyone “This is an example of what happens when a slave doesn’t meet its work quota.” My bench became sticky from the sweat on my back.

The next day, although weak from the whipping, I tried my best to work faster. I successfully avoided additional punishment. The days dragged on and I got tired of the work and the drudgery. We never had a rest day. I guess there were no recreational facilities, so they just worked us seven days a week. I couldn’t protest or ask for a break; the gag, the white noise, and the blurred VR screen prevented any communication. One day I dropped one of the boxes I was carrying. I heard something break inside. The line immediately stopped. One of the guards yelled, “806, you clumsy ass, you’re going to pay for this. These goods are expensive.” I got angry. If it weren’t for these fucking mitts and short chains, I could work faster and with fewer mistakes. Of course, the gag prevented me from voicing my objections. The vision screen went black and a shock hit my groin. I collapsed on the floor and was carried to the sleep area.

I was chained to my bench until the other slaves were finished for the day. I was then dragged to a hoist and my wrists shackles were attached to chains and I was lifted until only my toes touched the floor. Painful allegator clamps were attached to my nips and weights were added to chains hanging from the clamps. My chastity cage was then set to punishment mode. As the shocks hit me, I jerked, straining my arms, lifting my toes off the floor and causing the nipple chains and weights to swing. The pain was incredible. I screamed into my gag begging them to stop but only unintelligible moans escaped my gag and hood. My fellow slaves began to yell, so I knew they had turned their screens and earphones on to witness my distress. The shocks would end briefly and then start up again. They would vary in length and intensity. I never knew when the next shock would hit. This continued all night. Finally, I was released and chained to my bunk. I couldn’t work that day.

My year as a slave was coming to an end. I couldn’t wait to have my gag removed and to tell the guard that I wanted to end my term with Discipline Technologies.

It was during a particularly grueling and relentless shift that the day finally arrived. After I set down a box two guards came up and seized me. They disconnected the cable to the ceiling track from my helmet and turned off my vision. I was marched down a confusing set of corridors before being made to kneel on the floor. My vision came back on and after my eyes adjusted, I saw I was kneeling before one of the head guards and a man that looked like a lawyer or accountant.

The head guard spoke, saying “Slave Prisoner 806, per your contract we will remove your gag and you will answer either ‘yes’ or ‘no’. The witness will confirm compliance with the contract.”

This was it! In a way it was a shock. I had gotten exactly what I had wanted, and while I had enjoyed parts of it, I had experienced enough of the brutality of Discipline Technologies. After two years I did not wish to experience more and was ready to end my imprisonment. One of the guard escorts undid the locks on my brutal gag and pulled it out. For the first time in two years my mouth was free. I gasped at the now foreign sensation. It took me a few minutes to get my voice and mouth working again after being kept gagged and silent for so long. But finally, after some grunts and coughs I squeaked out my answer.


I felt a wave of relief wash over me with my answer. It was finally over.

“Note that the prisoner has answered ‘No’ and does not wish to be released.”

Wait what? Those words cut through my feeling of relief like a knife and shattered it, leaving a feeling of intense panic in its place. Before I knew what was happening the guards shoved the gag back into my mouth and locked it tight. The lawyer nodded and the head guard said “The prisoner’s answer has been recoded and confirmed in compliance with the contract. Take Prisoner 806 back to its cell.”

No! This was some kind of mistake! I didn’t want to be kept as a prisoner and slave for another two years! I had to let them know they’d made a mistake! I tried to shout through the gag hoping they would remove it to see why I was complaining. But instead, an intense shock hit my groin and I realized the noise punishment had been turned back on. While I convulsed my vision went black and I felt the guards grab me and start pulling me back through the hallway.

After the shock wore off, I tried to resist, I tried to struggle, I tried to fight, I knew where they were taking me and I was terrified to go back. Another year isolated and chained in the cell. But it was hopeless, another shock soon subdued me and I was dragged to my inevitable fate, I would have to endure another full two years of imprisonment and slavery at Discipline Technologies, whether I wanted or not. Only after another term would I have the chance to rectify this mistake.

As I was chained into the cell, a couple of new devices were added that I hadn’t seen before. Heavy metal weights were attached to my nips. These hurt like hell. The guard told me to bend over and inserted some kind of dildo up my ass. I tried to protest but the guard reminded me that my contract stated that new restraints and equipment could be added at Discipline Technologies discretion. Not only that, but the contract required that my trust account pay for any new devices. My heavy leather mitts were replaced with flat metal mitts which were even more restrictive. I couldn’t move my hands at all. I could barely grab my water and food bottles between the two mitts and guide them to my gag drinking tube.

I discovered there must be magnets in the cell floor. When standing there was only a little pull on the weights attached to my nipples. However, if I sat on the floor, the pull would be much stronger and more painful. This made the only comfortable position I had, sitting on the floor with my knees up, disagreeable as well. When I stood, to relieve the pressure on my nips, my back and knees would hurt again due to the short chains keeping me from standing straight up. Rest would be even more difficult this year. The metal mitts made it impossible to remove the nip clamps.

I soon learned the reason for the new dildo. As the chastity tube started its pleasurable stroking, the dildo began vibrating and stroking my prostate. This made me want to cum even faster than before. Of course, I couldn’t get an erection or an orgasm with my dick in that tiny tube. My cock could only press into the spikes. As I rolled on the floor trying to reach my dick, the pull on my nips only increased, further increasing my ecstasy and torment. This edging seemed to last for hours. When I begged it to stop, the dildo as well as the cock cage gave me painful shocks.

I also found the white noise from the speakers in the hood had changed. Rather than the constant static which was always the same, the sound would change from time to time. Sometimes it was a loud buzzing, sometimes a police car siren, sometimes a loud banging. In the past I could get used to the sound and tune it out. Now it was a constant annoyance I couldn’t ignore. The metal helmet only amplified the noise.

The year in the padded cell passed with agonizing slowness. I couldn’t make any noise. I couldn’t even cry. I had to avoid any arousal or the spikes would dig into my cock. I couldn’t believe how I was disciplined and controlled without anyone touching or observing me. I tried to explain to the guard who fed me, the terrible mistake that was made in keeping me for two more years. But he couldn’t understand my mumbling through the gag and I was rewarded for my efforts with more punishing shocks. It seemed the meals laced with urine and Viagra were delivered randomly and I again lost all sense of time.

At last, the cell door opened and I was marched upstairs to begin my next year of slave duty. Instead of unloading boxes in the receiving area, I was assigned to assembly work. My metal mitts were removed and my leg chain was locked to a work station. The screen in my helmet showed me a training video on how to place the electronic component in the device we were assembling. The items moved quickly from slave to slave on the assembly line. I found it difficult to keep up. The year in heavy chains and metal mitts made it difficult to move my hands quickly. I would drop the component and they would have to stop the line. The guard would shock me and tell me to improve my efforts. I tried to explain that I was doing the best I could, but I could only mumble through the gag. After several mistakes, I was whipped that evening and spent the night chained to the cross.

I continued to have problems keeping up on the assembly line. After several more times stopping the line, I spent the night hanging from chains with nip clamps and electro to my cage. The pain was excruciating. After this punishment, they decided to take me off of assembly and had me carry finished product back to the shipping area. This consisted of hauling a heavy cart filled with boxes. A body harness was hooked to the cart and I was made to pull it like a horse. A guard with a whip walked behind me. He didn’t hesitate to use the whip if I slowed or stopped. The work was exhausting and my back was covered with welts. I couldn’t wait to get out of this place and finally end my now four-year imprisonment.

Once again it came as a surprise. I was suddenly seized by two guards and my vision turned off. I put up no resistance as my aching body shivered at what I assumed was another harsh punishment, more welts for my already sore tired body. But instead, I felt myself led down the maze of corridors and I realized that the day I longed for was here. When I was forced down to kneel and my vision turned back on, I saw that I was once again in front of the head guard and a lawyer.

Once again, the head guard spoke, saying “Slave Prisoner 806, per your contract we will remove your gag and you will answer either ‘yes’ or ‘no’. The witness will confirm compliance with the contract.”

One of the other guards undid my gag and rather brutally ripped it from my mouth. I coughed and wretched for a moment, having spoken only one word in the past four years my throat was no longer used to forming words. But I had thought about this moment nonstop for the past two years, living it out in my head, knowing how it would go, and eventually my voice cooperated and spoke.”


I felt tears streaming down the inside of my helmet as I said that single word. My whole body was shaking with the release of the tension and anxiety of the last two years. Finally, what had started as fantasy come true but was now a hellish nightmare would be over.

“Note that the prisoner has answered ‘Yes’ and wishes to continue its imprisonment.”

Wait? WHAT? NO! I had thought about this every day, there’s no way I made the same mistake twice! I know I answered different from last time! My whole body started to shake and I pissed right on to the floor in sheer panic and terror. I managed to get out a single panicked shout of “NO!”, but before I could say any more the brutal gag was shoved back into my throat and locked to my steel helmet. I tried to fight, but in my bound and abused state there was no hope to resist.

The lawyer once again nodded and the head guard said “The prisoner’s answer has been recoded and confirmed in compliance with the contract. Prisoner 806, you will be punished for this mess and that outburst. Take it back to the prison and put it in one of the punishment cells.”

I was pushed into the elevator and taken to the underground prison. When we reached the punishment cell, they turned on my vision. I guess they wanted me to see what awaited me. I was horrified. In front of me was a tiny steel box. It couldn’t be more than four and a half or five feet high and only two feet wide and two feet deep. The only openings were a solid steel door with lock and bolts and a food slot with open bars so that a small amount of air could get into the cell. Did they really think I could fit in there? The guard stated, “806 you will spend 30 days in the box as punishment for your behavior. You will be restricted to half rations, water and protein drink on alternate days.”

They put my flat steel mitts back on, opened the door, pushed my head down and shoved me into the cell. The guard had to push the door against my body in order to get it closed. The lock clicked and two bolts on the door were run home. My vision screen was turned off and I was left in total darkness. I couldn’t stand. I sank down but had difficulty sitting in the tiny space especially with all my chains. My knees were pushed into my chest. I tried to stand again and hit my head on the ceiling. Because I could only crouch, my back and knees quickly began to hurt. By twisting my body, I could just reach the food slot. I tried to protest that I didn’t deserve this punishment, that I didn’t want to continue my confinement, and that DT wasn’t honoring the contract. But that all came out as only a mumble through the gag. No one could even hear it through the thick steel walls of the box. Not only that but as soon as I made a sound, I got a punishing shock. I screamed and was shocked again. I finally got my voice under control. I broke down in tears and was shocked again. No crying allowed.

My days in the box seemed like an eternity. Every muscle ached and cramped. I couldn’t get any sleep. The cell became uncomfortably warm due to my body heat and the tiny enclosure. The half rations kept me constantly hungry and thirsty. Every few days, the food slot would open and a guard would aim a high-pressure water hose on me. The water was freezing and I was pushed and battered against the cell walls. At least the smell of urine was washed down the floor drain.  I longed for the simple pleasure of standing straight or sleeping stretched out on the floor. Finally, my 30 days were over. The door opened and I fell on the floor. Two guards carried and tossed me into a standard cage. After chaining my leg iron to the cell, the door was slammed shut. My vision screen was never turned on. I guess they figured I knew the layout of the cell since I had already spent two years in an identical cage.

I couldn’t believe that I had to spend another 11 months in this prison and another year as a slave. I kept reviewing my answers to the head guard and lawyer. It appeared they were going to keep me incarcerated no matter what I said. I figured they would charge my trust account until all the money was gone. Unfortunately, the fund was so large that I probably would never get out. Just in case there was any misunderstanding, I decided I’d answer in a complete sentence next time. “I want to be released!!”

The months passed slowly, of course. There was nothing to keep me occupied in the cell. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t touch anything with the metal mitts. I couldn’t hear anything other than the constant noise from the speakers in my helmet. Tastes and smells were unpleasant. I despaired and began to think of some alternate means of escape. Maybe if I hurt myself, they would have to release me and call a doctor. But I came to realize that the cell was designed to prohibit that from happening. The heavy padding on the floor and walls prevented self-injury. There was nothing in the cell to use, no clothes, no sheets, no blanket. The steel helmet and collar would prevent choking or hurting myself by bashing my head against the toilet. The chains were too short to wrap around my neck and again the collar and helmet would prevent choking. I could hit myself with the steel mitts, but that would only cause some bruising.

The thought suddenly occurred to me that I could stage a hunger strike. They would have to open the cell door to force feed me. They might even take me to a hospital bed to recover. I started to leave the nutritional drink untouched. After a couple of days, I really felt hungry but I stuck with it. Finally, a guard’s voice came over my helmet’s speakers. “806, you are not eating. That behavior is prohibited. I am putting a drink through the food slot. I can see if you drink it through the camera on your helmet. I will begin shocks to your cock cage. The shocks will ramp up in intensity until you start drinking.” The first shock hurt like hell, but I thought I could withstand another. The second shock had me sinking to my knees trying to grab my cock. The third shock almost made me pass out. I grabbed the bottle in my shaking mitts and started drinking. They were able to make me end my hunger strike without even opening the cell door. I was totally controlled and monitored in my cage. The guard came back and stated, “you will spend your last month in the punishment cell for refusing to eat. If you try that again, you will be punished for 90 days.” I couldn’t imagine 90 days in the box. I didn’t even think I could survive another 30-day session.

The weeks and months passed slowly. My only relief from the boredom was when the pleasurable electro on my cock and prostate began. I would be stimulated for hours but unable to cum in my tight chastity cage. My jailers seemed to increase my edging sessions to keep me occupied. I would roll on the floor begging for release. The stimulation would only stop when I was exhausted. They seemed to know when I recovered enough to start over again.

Again, when I leased expected it, the cell door burst open and I was unchained and dragged out of the cage. The guard said, “806, you will now serve your 30 days punishment for your hunger strike before transfer to slave labor.” I was not taken to the box, however. A different door was opened to a small cell. My wrist, ankle and collar were bolted to the wall. Another steel belt was strapped around my waist. I couldn’t move at all. Silicone nose plugs were worked into my nostrils. A small device was attached to my breathing / feeding tube. Electrical cords to my helmet, cock cage and the device on my breathing tube were plugged into the wall. The door slammed shut.

Soon shocks began to pulse in my chastity cage. These were not pleasurable, mild sensations however. They hurt like hell. The VR screen in my hood lit up and began abstract light displays in time with the shocks to my cock. My ear speakers started drumming in time to the light flashes and dick shocks. It was very disorienting and I soon lost track of time and space. I was floating in my own world of pain. I closed my eyes, but the screen was so bright, I could see it through my eyelids. My breathing tube suddenly closed and I couldn’t get any air. I started to panic thinking I was going to suffocate, but just before passing out breathing was restored.

The punishment sessions seemed to start and stop at random. Sometimes they would last only minutes and other times hours. The intensity would vary from merely painful to excruciating. Sometimes the shocks would come in rapid succession, other times long, irregular pulses. I never knew when they would start again. The pattern and frequency of the electrical current and its intensity would change and increase so that I could never become numb to the pain. At times the shocks would stop but the VR screen and speakers would play continuous disturbing sounds and images at varying volumes. These could last for hours or days. My breathing was often restricted where I would have to struggle to get enough air. I spent my days dreading when the next torture would begin. It seemed the punishments were timed so that I could never get more than a few minutes of sleep. Guards came into the cell to force feed me since I no longer had use of my hands. I thought the 30 days would never end.

At last, the guards released me and allowed me to sleep and recover in another cell for a few days. I was then transferred to slave labor. The guards determined that after five years of detention my condition didn’t allow for assembly work or material handling. They hooked me up to the cart again, hauling finished product back to the shipping area. My overseer seemed to enjoy getting his whip out and beating my bare back and ass, shouting giddy up. However, after two months of back breaking labor, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I collapsed and was hauled to the supervisor’s office. “We have concluded that you are no longer useful to us as a slave. We are sending you back, 806, to the underground cells until your next two-year decision as to whether you want to continue your confinement here.”

I was returned to the blackout isolation cell. The guard said that since I could no longer do slave labor, I didn’t need the expensive VR screen. He fitted a new steel hood locking it to my collar. The helmet was smaller and tighter, pressing against my head from all sides. He had a difficult time pressing the two halves together and locking it. I shouted that the hood was too tight but he said no, it was exactly the size I needed. I begged to be released but my long-time gag and breathing/feeding tube were brutally shoved into my mouth and locked to the front of the hood. The smaller helmet made the gag extend even farther into my throat. I knew the pressure on my head and gag would be difficult to handle day after day. The door to my cell was slammed shut, bolted and sealed for another 10 months.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, my cell door was opened, the chain connecting me to the cell wall was released and I was dragged upstairs. I was made to kneel again and was told to say yes or no to my continued confinement. Without the VR screen, I couldn’t see who I was addressing but I assumed it was the same head guard and lawyer. I was ready. I wasn’t going to play their yes/no game. My gag was unlocked and pulled out. After exercising my jaw and coughing a few times I gasped, “I want to be released, I want out!” The gag was quickly jammed back into my mouth. “Prisoner 806, the contract requires that you give only a yes or no response. No other speech is allowed. Your outburst voids the contract clause, and Discipline Technologies will exercise their option to enforce the remaining clauses of the contract as they see fit in accordance with their power of attorney. Since you can no longer perform slave duties, you will be permanently confined to a punishment cell. Guards, take 806 away, and make sure he is tightly restrained. Weld the cell door closed so that 806 can never get out”.

I started shouting into my gag. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I struggled against the guards on both sides of me, but I was weak from the years of confinement and couldn’t put up much resistance. They finally zapped me with a cattle prod and dragged me to the elevator.

We descended to the prison floor. The guard removed my gag and helmet and the wrist shackles and connecting chains. He left the leg irons and chain in place and handcuffed my wrists behind my back. I was so thankful to see again that I almost forgot to complain about my continued confinement. The guards told me to shut up and they removed my cock cage as well. “We have a new device that we think you will like”. A larger, heavier cage with a rubber sleeve was pushed onto my dick and a belt to support the weight was strapped around my waist. The cage also covered my balls.

I was guided to one of the cells. I thought this is where I’ll be locked up for who knows how long. However, one of the guards grabbed a concealed handle in the floor. The cell floor lifted up revealing a set of steps. I didn’t know there was anything below the prison floor. The guard smiled at my questioning look, “we call this dungeon the tombs. It’s where we store prisoners that we never expect to release. Even if the prison is shut down, no one will ever know anyone is locked in this secret dungeon.” A light switch was turned on and I was led down a long stairway. At the bottom there was a hallway with several trap doors in the floor spaced widely apart. The guard opened one and sneered, “welcome to your new home”. He shined a flashlight into the pit. It was a padded cell about 8 feet deep, 6 feet long and 3 feet wide. The cell had nothing but a floor drain, a feeding tube, a hooded air vent (preventing any light from entering the cell) and a water outlet. There was barely enough room to lie down. It looked like a padded coffin. The guard explained that the tanks holding liquid food and water were located upstairs so that I could be fed without anyone entering the dungeon and disturbing my isolation.

“We have a special jacket you’ll wear in the cell that I think you will enjoy.” One guard uncuffed me while the other forced my arms into a canvas straight jacket. I was made to lie on the floor while the guard pulled the laces on the back of the jacket as tight as he could bracing his foot against my back. Wide canvas straps and my arm sleeves were then pulled as tight as possible in the same manner, the guard grunting from his exertion. Straps on the front, sides and crotch insured that I couldn’t pull out of the jacket. They pulled me back up and applied ear plugs and a padded blindfold. The same steel helmet reappeared. The guard again struggled to close and lock the two halves around my head, it fit so tightly squeezing me on all sides. The gag was shoved back in and the food tube was attached to the gag. A chain was attached to each shoulder of the straightjacket.

A steel electrical cable was attached to my new cock cage. The guard said the cage had a microphone and would punish any sound made by me through the gag with a powerful shock. They grabbed me and lowered me into the pit. My feet sank into the heavy padding. It was hard to stand on the cushioned floor. The trap door was slammed shut and locked. I heard the hissing sound of a blow torch and felt the heat and realized that the door was being welded shut. I then heard the sound of dirt hitting the top of the trap door. I guess I really was being buried alive. I began to panic and started screaming but painful shocks forced me to stop. I fell to the floor crying.

The cock cage began to vibrate. The sensation was quite pleasant and I began to harden. I felt a shot of lubrication and the rubber sleeve began pumping. I became more and more aroused. The cage seemed to expand to accommodate my growing erection. After years of denial, I was so ready to cum. The speed of the stroking increased and the sleeve squeezed deliciously. It started massaging my balls as well. I gasped and squirmed in my straightjacket and prepared to shoot. Just as I was ready to orgasm a painful shock destroyed my arousal and the cage shrank preventing any ejaculation.

I discovered this routine would keep repeating. The cage would allow me to rest and recover and then would start vibrating and pumping again. It seemed the more I was edged the more desperate I wanted to cum. No matter how much I wanted to touch my dick or rip off the damned device, the straightjacket prevented any access.

The straightjacket was anything but pleasurable however. Water would frequently spray soaking my straightjacket. The canvas apparently was designed to shrink as it dried. The jacket already was tight but would painfully squeeze me as it dried. The straps were also canvas and shrank and tightened as well. I had to focus on pushing my chest out to get enough air to breathe. When finally dry, the canvas would begin to stretch again offering me some relief. That’s when the water would spray me again. The water must have had a cleaning and disinfecting agent because my skin and the cell seemed clean after each soaking.

I soon discovered the purpose of the chain attached to my straightjacket. It led to a winch in the ceiling. As I sat trying to rest on the wet, urine-soaked floor (it hadn’t been washed for a while), the chain slowly pulled me up by the straightjacket. The chain kept pulling until I was only standing on my toes. I struggled to keep my toes planted on the slippery floor. My hobbled ankles made balancing difficult. Suddenly some of the vile tasting food was forced into my mouth causing me to choke and thrash about. The surprise and the pain from my stretched body made me scream into the gag. The shock to my dick made me react more violently, lifting my toes off the floor and swaying in the jacket. The already tight jacket became unbearable with the weight of my body. The cold water started spraying making me shiver and the jacket started shrinking even more. I shouted some more and was shocked again and again. I don’t know how long I hung there gasping for breath and trying to keep my balance on wet, rubbery floor, but it seemed like forever. The chain finally loosened and I collapsed on the floor. This hanging was repeated seemingly at random and for different lengths of time. Sometimes the cock cage would begin stroking and I would writhe on the chain, in pain but aroused at the same time.

I really felt I was buried alive. No light or sound penetrated my padded coffin. It was so silent that I could hear my heart beat and the blood pumping through my veins. I didn’t know if there was anyone else in one of the other dungeon cells. I decided to suffer the shock and yell as loud as I could to see if anyone would answer. There was no reply to my gagged scream. I didn’t know if that meant I was all alone or if the heavy padding including on the ceiling and trap door prevented any sound from escaping my cell.  I also remembered there was a fair distance between each pit cell with dirt in between. The dungeon was more than 20 feet under the main prison, so I knew any sound I made would never reach the prison floor. I didn’t even know if someone did reply, if I could hear it in my padded cell with the earplugs and helmet attached.

I guess this is where my story ends. I don’t know if I will ever be released. Maybe the money will run out and they will tire from feeding and housing me. The guard’s words keep haunting me, “this is where we store prisoners we never expect to release” and “no one will ever know if someone is in this deep dungeon even if the prison is closed “. If someone did find this underground cellar, the door to my pit was hidden by a layer of dirt. Only the small air vent was visible and that was hidden against the wall. The feeding tube, water pipe, drain and cable to the chastity cage were buried inside the wall and floor. Whatever happens, I am constantly aroused and painfully restrained in this secret underground tomb. I can only hope that someday someone will remember me and come to my rescue.

Metal would like to thank the authors, Scribe and Stormbound, for this story!

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5 thoughts on “Long Term Confinement – Part 04”

  1. For the punishment due to the hunger strike, after being bolted to the wall and a steel belt attached around the prisoner’s waist, a second belt should have been attached over his upper chest to ensure his chest was immobile. Then, rubber tipped clamps are placed onto his nipples at their highest setting. Cables are attached to the clamps and tethered to a winch fixed to the cell wall across from the prisoner. As he endures the proscribed other tortures, the winch reels in the cables tightly, pulling on his nipples and chest meat. As the winch cycles, it resets, releasing the tension slightly and begins again. Because it released the tension only slightly, each new cycle pulls his nipples harder and farther that the prior cycle.

    1. We’ll make sure our punishment cell is equipped with the winch, belts and clamps you describe, ready and waiting for your visit to our prison.

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