The truck didn’t take me to the field hand barracks, where I thought I was going. It turned into the driveway to Mr. Hamilton’s house instead. I thought, this is probly what he does whenever he buys a new workie — he wants to see the goods. But — OK, this is just too hard to talk about, except just a little bit. We pulled up to the side door of the house and I was handed over to this old workie named Cicero, who’s the bigshot up there, and he gave me this funny look and said, “Yes, we’ve been expecting you. Mr. Hamilton is busy right now; I’ll take you to your room.” So right away, it was a room not a barracks.
So he took me down to the basement — which is really nice, for a basement — and he unlocked the door to a little room and told me to wait in there, and he closed the door and locked it, and yeah, it wasn’t a barracks at all, it was just like a bedroom, with a bed and a dresser and a little mirror and so on, so what the hell? It was almost like I was back at home! I did remember how Butch was living someplace next to the House, so maybe this was good, cuz maybe he was still there! Which would be SO great! But I never thought they’d keep him there. I always thought he’d get sent back to the coffle. That’s just what I thought, from looking at him.
The month or so before I was supposed to graduate, the tension was building. I was studying for final exams and also getting letters from colleges saying I was either in or out. I dealt with that stuff kind of in the background. Mainly I went around lookin at all the things in my life like, pretty soon, I’m never gonna see you again. My friends, my school, the house where I grew up — they were like, in the past already. My dad and my brother had been like that for quite a while, and they seemed to feel the same about me. I mean, they had this look like, “Are you still around?” I guess we were never a real close family.
I’d been dreading all these things that happen at the end of high school — like, proms and yearbooks and graduation ceremonies and so forth — but they were in the past too. I just did them. Although I didn’t go to the prom — none of the guys asked me! LOL! But I did put on the robes and march in the graduation ceremony. Of course I was thinking, these people think that WORKIES look like clowns!
After that, I was so nervous, I could hardly sit still. Geometry class! What a nightmare. With My Fate Hanging in the Balance like that, I had to worry about theorems! And it took DAYS for something to happen. Actually, I was sittin in Geometry when I got the text from Mr. Sinclair: “Come out to the Center. I’ve got an answer for you.”
I should have walked outta class right then, but I was such a good boy that I waited till it was over, LOL! Then I got on my bike and rode out there. As soon as I got into his office, Mr. Sinclair said, “Well, Noah, you’re in luck. Mr. Hamilton has expressed an interest in acquiring you for the Farms.”
“Sweet!” I said. “When do I go?”
“Hold on,” he said. “Mr. Hamilton made a good offer for a preliminary contract. Preliminary. But he told us that under no circumstances will he make the purchase until after the subject graduates from high school.”
For those who have been reading the series called The WORC Program by Joshua Ryan and eagerly checking back for more, just a quick update. There are three more parts to go. It will end with Part 26. The final three installments will appear tonight (Tuesday), tomorrow and Thursday. I’m so very grateful to the author, Joshua Ryan, for sharing this story with Metalbond readers. For those who just can’t get enough of his writing, be sure to check his extensive story page, located at prisonfictions.bdsmlr.com, which has many more stories in a similar vein.
And speaking of long-running stories, I am pleased to announce that there will be yet another “bondage novel” coming soon to the Prison Library. It’s called “One Year,” and it is by Taurus. I think many guys are going to enjoy it very much. I sure did when reading it in advance! In addition, there will soon be even MORE male bondage fiction coming soon from the authors Steellock, ty dehner, Nitro, rts and many others, so keep checking back. In November alone, there will have been a new story or chapter of a story every night except election night! I am especially pleased to have been able to share a new story from bootboy called Getting Wet.
If you enjoyed the story by bootboy or any of the other authors, please be sure to leave a note in the comments section!
So, the way it happened, it was Saturday, and I was just comin outta the library, when I saw him! They’d brought him into town to do some grunt work for that manager of Mr. Hamilton’s, the gay one, and the workie that drove Mr. Hamilton’s cars. But those guys were off doin something and Butch came back to the car and there he was, leaning against the side, right next to the HAMILTON FARMS placard, waiting for them to show up. All alone! And SO hot! And just waiting for me!
So naturally, I made a total fool out of myself, just standing there with my mouth open, staring at him! Because he was SO hot! He looked exactly the way I wanted to look. He was wearing this great workie suit — which I knew you’re not supposed to like, but maybe that’s why I liked it, cuz people drive past a workie and they say, oh, ugh, look at that horrible suit, I’m glad I’m not a clown like that and I have to wear a clown suit. But that just means they can’t see how big and tough it makes you look, especially if you’ve got muscles that are making the suit be how it’s meant to be! Which is what Butch had.
Butch says that’s a dog’s name, and maybe he’s right! But I’m glad Mr. Hamilton chose it, because it’s the right name for me. If anybody’s lucky, I am. Just look at my boyfriend Butch! You think I’m not lucky?
Anyway, I’ve been here at Hamilton Farms for two years now, so this is a big fast forward, LOL! But it’s a good time to check into the story, for reasons I’m gonna explain. So yeah. But I wanta go back to the start. The start for me, anyhow.
It all started — me being lucky, I mean! — when I was in my senior year in high school. When you turn 18, I guess you start lookin around, tryin to figure out what you wanta do. I know what my dad wanted me to do. (I guess I should tell you, my mother’s dead. I can’t remember her much, actually. Too bad — maybe she was nice!) I was the one that was going to college. My brother Luke, he was the one that was gonna take over the business. I remember my dad sitting me down in private and telling me, “You know, Luke understands how to do this. He’s already doing it. So … I’m giving it to him. No hard feelings?”
“Course not, Dad. I didn’t want it anyway.”
I guess he didn’t like to hear that. But it was true.
I’d almost forgot how to be a bitch, but next day, I felt it coming back.
Every morning, I woke up from a dream. Usually it was a nice dream about being back in a nice home, with nice things in it for me. Nice clothes and great food and lots of drinks and new electronics to play with and hot parties to go to and trips all the time to Paris and Rome. And in my dreams, everybody was nice to me too — even the other bitches like me. In dream time, an understanding man was always just going to get me a second cocktail. Then something would happen and I’d wake up in a bunk bed in a barracks full of workies, and I had to put on a workie suit and go to an ugly room where they gave me “chow” and climb into a truck and get taken out to a field and be worked all day with my leg locked to a chain attached to a gang of other former human beings.
So the last thing I needed was to open my eyes and find a dude standing next to my rack who was just full of joy and happiness to be doing all those things with me on this beautiful morning. That’s what he did — Lucky the Kid — every morning, and I couldn’t do anything about it. He was too pretty, and he “trusted” me too much, and if it wasn’t for me, he said, he “might never have gotten here!”
Spring went on. Out in the fields, it was beans, then onions, then back to beans, then three weeks digging a ditch to drain water off the level, featureless land. If you looked around, you’d believe the earth was flat after all. When I woke up in the night, I saw the long barred window at the top of the barn, and the cold stars shining behind it. Ace and Mack were rutting in the bunk ten feet away from me, but I didn’t notice it anymore. I didn’t even hear it.
Things did happen from time to time. Dax broke his arm on some machine in the canning factory and had to be taken to the vet. Who put him back in the coffle where he could keep whacking weeds, only with his other arm. One time it rained for six days and we couldn’t work, so there were a lotta fights. Even Ace got in a fight with a workie that made a joke about him. I can’t remember the joke, but I know the guy will never want to fight him again.