Tag Archives: manual labor

Captain Jack and the Race to Redula – Chapter 10: Keep Moving


Voices erupted from the gallery.  The shabby small-town lawyer blinked as if blindsided, his face somehow managing to comically express both consternation that he wouldn’t need any of the arguments he had assembled and relief that they wouldn’t get eviscerated by his opponent.  The opponent, meanwhile, simply opened up his briefcase and started packing papers into it, just another day’s work, this one easier than most.  Bystanders in the courtroom gossiped with their neighbors; the deputies smirked knowingly at each other; the bailiff watched the judge for a cue what he should do.

The sheriff was the only one actually looking at Sam and the expression on his face was that of a cat eyeing a trapped mouse.  Sam met his eyes and stared, letting the clamor in the courtroom wash over him until Judge Jack banged his gavel on the bench.  “Order!”  The voices died down and calm settled once again over the courtroom.

“Let the record show that the defendant has pled guilty to all charges.  Sam Green, I hereby sentence you to hard labor, sentence to commence immediately and continue until restitution for your crimes has been made.  Sheriff, you’ll see to the details?  Dismissed!”  The gavel came down again.  Bystanders stood and began filing out; the maître d’ and the various Jack clones in their various outfits left through other doors, and in short order the space was empty save for Sam and Sheriff Jack.

Continue reading Captain Jack and the Race to Redula – Chapter 10: Keep Moving

Three Slaves – Part 09

By Practicerestraint

Six months later

The sheriff was smiling as he drove down the road, singing along to the loud music pouring out of the speakers in his truck.  He glanced at the time on the vintage Omega chronograph on his left wrist and smiled as he recalled his Pet asking him to wear it today.  It had been Pet’s favorite watch before he became the sheriff’s captive/slave and Pet had confessed he loved seeing it on his master’s wrist.  The sheriff sped up a bit, feeling a thrill from his Pet’s devotion, eager to get to his destination and then back home.

The sheriff had been planning this day for several years.  After he became involved with the Facility, he realized that he would be able to achieve a dream.  First, running interference for the Facility and keeping legal eyes away from their activities had been lucrative and made early retirement possible.  Second, part of his compensation included the acquisition of his Pet.  And more . . . .

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Three Slaves – Part 08

By Practicerestraint

Chris led slave 502 out of the building and they stopped under an awning that shaded the entrance.  Chris lifted the lid on a cooler sitting nearby, grabbed a bottle of water, opened it, and drank about half of it.  He capped the bottle, set it on the cooler, and then undid the penis gag that had kept 502 silent during the tour.  Chris pulled out the gag, wiped the drool off on 502’s trunks, and placed it on the cooler. He unclipped the wrist restraints and handed the bottle of water to 502.

“Drink up.  I’ll leave the gag out, but don’t assail me with questions.  Just listen.”

After taking the empty bottle from 502 and throwing it in a recycling bin, Chris led the slave to a golf cart parked in the paved area just beyond the awning.  He directed 502 to get in the passenger seat.   Chris then bent down and used clips to attach the wrist and ankle restraints to eyebolts fixed in the seat and floor.  He grabbed the gag and tossed it into the back of the golf cart and then jumped into the driver’s seat.

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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