By Joshua Ryan
Chapter 14: Sewing Your Own Prison
We entered the Pen through the gate. No more front door and lobby for me. I was promptly escorted to the Colonel’s residence and locked in the cage in the servants hall. 6839, 1057, and 9555 were buzzing around, preparing for Mr. Patrick’s afternoon snack and casting sidelong glances at me, afraid to ask what had happened. Afraid, or indifferent. More glances were cast as 9555 stepped into the role of conveying the snack, and a very long time elapsed until he returned. I was in the cage, looking out through the bars like an owl in the zoo.
Then, while 1057 heated the stove for the couple’s first course at dinner, the Colonel himself strode in, ordering everyone out of the servants’ area. They scuttled away, 1057 casting anguished eyes at his stove—puzzled, like all of them, where he was supposed to go. My prediction was the servants’ john.
“You did a good job today, convict,” the Colonel said, walking up to the cage.
“Thank you, sir.”
“It was a privilege never given to any other convict.”
“Yes sir. I am grateful for my privileges, sir.”
He was pacing restlessly, but always keeping my face in view. Every time he passed the cage, I could see his dick growing harder behind his pants. At first I wasn’t sure. Then I was.
