Tag Archives: manual labor

Island Paradise – Part 2: Chapter 17

By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 17: Reclaiming Errant Youth

So that helped a lot, and I got back to enjoying all the exercise and being chained up and getting to sleep every night in a place that was NOT like a resort at all and trying to do everything right so I wouldn’t get punished.  I marched past the pillory every day, and I did NOT want to go in there!  Although I did think it was fun to see the other dudes gettin it—especially seein them squirmin around when the beam came down on them, like maybe they could squirm enough to get out of the thing!  It was just funny, that’s all.

But finally I got it.  It was for stealing one of those sporks that they give you to eat with.  I didn’t need it; I just wanted to steal something, and I did.  But I guess the real thing was that the boss thought I was gettin cocky, cuz everything I did seemed to be right.  So he was watchin me and as soon as I got back to the barracks that day he grabbed me by the ear and made me take the spork out of my undies and he told me I was gettin the pillory tomorrow.  Only what he did, he put me into it right before chow that morning, and he let me out right afterwards, “so you woan miss you day on thee chain, boy.”  But actually I think it was because he liked me.  Like I think I said, they all sorta liked me.  That’s why they were all yellin at me and cursin at me when he put me in, and sayin stuff like, “That teach you not to fuck you momma” and “Hey boss, he still gotta spork in his pants!” and “Never mind—that too small to be a spork!”  Because I had this raging hardon.   So they had fun. Yeah, I guess I had fun too, mon.

Continue reading Island Paradise – Part 2: Chapter 17

Island Paradise – Part 2: Chapter 06

By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 6: That’s Five Small Steps for a Man

So wow, and it only took me half the night.  If this is what “research” is like, forget it.  But here I was in the SLP arm of the Bureau of Such and Such, and I started dissecting it (clever medical image, right?):  Home, Mission Statement, Goals, Officials, Statistics, Invest in the SLP . . . .  Finally, there it was: Volunteer for the SLP.

So what did I see when I clicked on that?  Big headline, brown letters (natch!):




Yes, that’s the question, isn’t it!  Patrick thought I didn’t.  Even I thought I didn’t.  But how would I find out?

Continue reading Island Paradise – Part 2: Chapter 06

Island Paradise – Part 1: Chapter 25

By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 25: The Experiment Can Be Considered a Success

In a second the twins were dragging me out.  “Roger!” I shouted, but his expression of calm benignity never changed.  The door slammed.  I was back in the passageway, being propelled toward a room at the distant end.  If that was “the room,” then I was the “it.”

Champ and Chimp dragged me in, and Roger followed.

“Put the slap on the wall,” he said.  “And fluff.”

“Sir thank you sir.”  They moored my cuffs to a ring on the wall.  Then they stripped out of their browns and began to kiss and grope each other, groping and sweating and grinding and making each other hard, so hard that if their boots hadn’t anchored them to the floor they could have climbed to the sky on each other’s dicks.  Were they fighting or making love?  It didn’t matter.  They were two volcanoes, ready to erupt.  Then spotlights came on.  The windowless room was boiling with light.  And there were other lights—little red lights in the corners of the room.  Roger was filming this!  The lights seemed to set the boys off even more.  Molten mountains, beasts in a colosseum . . . .

Continue reading Island Paradise – Part 1: Chapter 25

Island Paradise – Part 1: Chapter 20

By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 20: Opportunities for Success in Uniformed Service

I’m leaving out a lot of stuff about the “guests.”  The kids that trip you in the hall.  The people that open their doors and see you and squirm and slither away as far as they can get, hoping not to catch your disease.  The old gentlemen who like to tell you jokes.  “Hey boy—how many slappies does it take to screw in a lightbulb?  Don’t know?  Well, what DO you know?  Ha ha ha ha ha!  I heard that one on the tour today.”  The young ladies who check in for their bachelorette party, four to a room, and totter off to shop for their bridesmaids’ dresses, leaving their puke on the couch.  The boyfriends muscling them past the ugly slappies that would otherwise want to rape them.  The annual guests who’ve learned that if Housekeeping turns up at an inconvenient time they can always say “Corner,” and the slap will have to find the nearest one and stand there facing it until the guests are ready to leave their room.

It was good that during those first days I had Dave to keep me standing at attention with my hands behind my back, anytime there might be trouble.  And to teach me a lot more things than how to change a hotel bed.  He went way beyond what hotel management calls Guest Relations.

Continue reading Island Paradise – Part 1: Chapter 20

Island Paradise – Part 1: Chapter 18

By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 18:  The Best Place to Get Boeuf Bourguignon

Did you ever stand around naked?  Just stand around?  You shift from one foot to another.  You cover your nuts.  Then you uncover them, just for the hell of it.  Because you’re bored.  Bored and anxious.  You look around at the uniform stacks of uniforms.  You smell the ink as Dev rubs it over a stencil and into your clothes, turning anonymous pieces of cloth into YOUR shirt, the shirt of Tommy, slap number 21338.  First the front of the shirt, left pec; then the back of the shirt, between the shoulder blades.  Then the shorts, right thigh, left butt.  Then the underwear, right thigh, left butt.  Your boots too–21338, left side of your left boot, right side of your right boot.  And the cap.  There was room for your number on the back of your cap.  Dev was a perfectionist, so it took more than 20 minutes.

“Yeah,” he was saying, holding up a shirt to inspect his work, “like we say, they be seein you comin an goin!  Same with you shorts.  They watchin you dick, then they watchin you ass.  They wanta SEE whose ass it is.  You jus’ off thee slap farm, so you doan know.  So I’m tellin.  The freemen LOVE to look at us.  Not kiddin!  Even if you are like . . . older.”  Meaning me.  “These women jus love to flirt with you.  These men too!  Course you best not try any follow up.  Least so somebody find out.  Somebody in Crew 7.”

Continue reading Island Paradise – Part 1: Chapter 18

Island Paradise – Part 1: Chapter 02

By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 2: One’s Company

Roger let me know that he’d made not only the room arrangements but also an appointment for us with Major Timmons of the St. Bevons State Labour Program.  “I confess that I have had the tour already, but I will enjoy meeting him again, and I am sure that you will enjoy it too.  We will meet him at his office at 9:00 a.m. on the second day after your arrival.  As for our own meeting, may I suggest 7 p.m., local time, on the day you arrive?  I will make our dinner reservations for that hour in the restaurant of the King George Hotel.  I think you will find the Oak Room more than passable.  We can meet in the lobby.”

“Thank you—but how will we recognize each other?  Should I carry a copy of ‘BDSM for Fun and Profit’?”

“Oh yes, that is a question.  For purposes of recognition, my dear sir, I humbly request a photo of yourself.  You will note that I am not yet requesting an exchange of names.  After all, what, to the world, is a photograph without a name?”

Continue reading Island Paradise – Part 1: Chapter 02