Tag Archives: ball and chain

A Left Turn at Albuquerque Continued – Part 05

By Hunter Perez

I never considered myself to be a jealous person, but after my meeting with Holmgren I was deeply envious of his encounter with Quinn, that adventure-seeking magazine writer he met at the schoolhouse. I was unable to fall asleep because I became consumed with resentfulness over Holmgren’s newfound happiness and the possibility that he might find himself in a romantic relationship.

“Why is he able to go out and about and meet people while I have stay locked in a cage?” I thought to myself. “He knows I don’t belong in here, but he’s keeping me here. He’ll probably keep me here for the rest of my life. He’ll probably quit one day and go off somewhere with his new boyfriend and I’ll be stuck behind bars until I die.”

My unhappiness forced me up, which was just as well because Zeb began snoring at an intolerable level. I sat at the foot of bed, sometimes glancing out of the cell door with the hope that Patterson would come chugging by for a quick chat. By mostly I stared at the floor, slowly asphyxiating myself with self-pity.

Continue reading A Left Turn at Albuquerque Continued – Part 05

Some Time in Rubber – Part 2

By rts

(the next day)

I awoke before him, my body heated by his rubber clad form pressed against me. I was covered in sweat, my balls and cock hurt and itched maddenly in their steel containment, my bung hole sore from the butt fucking, the confinement of the tight heavy rubber straight jacket and posture collar driving me crazy, the waist belt holding my torso firmly tightening its hold each time I took a breath. I was hot, miserably unconfortable in that hot rubber suit, thirsty and had to take a piss. I started to struggle around manageing to finally wake him. He pressed his hooded head to mine and kissed me sucking the breath out of me. He got out of the bad and I asked him for some water.

He told me we would have to go out and get some up at the spring. I told him of my need to piss, he got me up, led me outside and unzipped my crotch, the weight of the steel chastity container hanging heavily on my balls once the zipper was opened, the posture collar and bulky straight jacket prevented me from seeing what it looked like. I spread my legs and just let go the urine and heard it splashing on the ground. He zipped me closed and began to unstrap the straight jacket, it was a relief to be free of its restriction, my arms felt stiff and cramped from the hours spent in it and I could feel a slight coolness now that it was off. He told me to grab the two buckets hanging by the cabin’s door and following him he led me up a trail to the spring a few hundred yards away.

Continue reading Some Time in Rubber – Part 2

The WORC Program – Part 09

By Joshua Ryan

The Haute Cuisine de Paris Select Tour … Mike had finally agreed to book it … I was lingering on a foggy street on the Ile Saint-Louis … Then from somewhere — some seventeenth century house? Some charming local church? — a bell was clanging. “Cmon,” Mack said. “Ain’t got all day.” He was already on his way to the shit holes, where a line had formed — a line of identical packages of rocklike muscles dressed in identical boxers and tees. A dream, and a nightmare.

I was one of the last to get to the holes, so I was glad I’d shat my guts out the night before, and all I needed to do was piss. I didn’t bother to line up for the sink. I went back to my bunk and started turning myself into the image of Mack, who had already dressed.

I can’t say they didn’t give us enough time. It was all hurry up and wait for our turn at the Chow Hall. While waiting, the workies shot the shit with each other, paying no attention to me. They weren’t interested anymore. I wasn’t new. I just stood by my bunk until Boss Web yelled, “Awright, make your line!” and we all marched off to the chow palace. Bill of fare: egg and cheese on bun, grits on the side. Hearty food! What you’d get in a fast food place, if the place was about to be closed by the health inspectors. Also a cup of coffee. No cream, no sugar, but the first coffee I’d had since I signed those papers. By the time I got through with it, I was so high that Ace came up beside me and said, “Coffee. It happened to me too. My first day. Watch your step. I don’t want you havin any accidents.”

Continue reading The WORC Program – Part 09