By Joshua Ryan

The rest of the winter … What happened? Nothing. Not even another trip to the bedroom. Bottom line: I was still a workie. I was still a house servant. I was owned by the current partner of my former partner. They had their breakfast, lunch, gym, dinner, movies, friends. I cleaned up after them. I also got up on the long ladder and dug out the gutters. I dragged the dead possum out of the storm drain. Cicero paddled me for stealing a cookie that was supposed to go on Jerry’s birthday cake. My only hope was that Mike and Jerry were hazing me, using me, shaming me, until one day they’d decide to let me go. If I could have shamed myself more, I would have, just to get this to end. I would have worn a leash every day. I would have slobbered at their feet. I would have begged them to rape me. But maybe that would just have made them want to keep me. Yeah, and maybe their favorite way of torturing me was to let me think they’d forgot all about me.

OK, eventually they’d get tired of that. Wouldn’t they? And then they’d let me go. I wished I had somebody to help me figure things out. I wished I had somebody to touch and make love to. I wished I was back with Ace. But if I was ever gonna get out of this, I had to stay in the House and live with a bunch of dumb hopeless faggots and bust my ass to keep Mike and Jerry’s toilets clean.

And then it was starting to be spring, and something happened.

Nothing special was going on. Not a birthday. Not a holiday. Not a party. Just a normal afternoon. I was scrubbing the floor in the pantry, and Jody came in, looking to poach something from the cookie jar. He got to do that, of course. He could take whatever he wanted. I barely looked up. These days, he never talked to another workie. He was in another world.

Then I heard screams. “Ewww! Kill it! Kill it!” Jody had discovered a snake slithering in from the terrace. “Kill it! Kill it!” OK, I didn’t know what kind of snake it was, but snakes shouldn’t be in the house. I had a heavy push broom leaning against the cupboard. I aimed the side of its head at the snake’s head, and the snake expired. I picked it up by the tail, feeling a lot like Jody — ewww! — and threw it in the garbage pail. End of snake.

“Oh my God!” Jody said, hyperventilating. “My hero!” He threw his arms around me, and kissed me.

It had been a long time since anybody did that. It had been since before I put on a workie suit. It had been since — maybe never! For a moment, he wasn’t the little favorite anymore. He was a young man, thanking an older man. Or something he suddenly thought was a man. The real men were Mike and Jerry. They owned him. They pampered him. He totally belonged to them. Except for them, he was just a common workie. Except for them, he was nothing. But I couldn’t resist. I gave him a hug. I gave him a kiss. I pulled him closer. We kissed again. Deeper. Now we noticed that my junk was rubbing his junk, and that both of us were hard. Soon very hard. Another kiss, mouths open ….

A doorknob turned. “What’s going on in here!” The voice was Cicero’s. Jody and I turned. Cicero was not happy. “Back to work,” he said. “Both of you.”

Jody scurried away. I got back on my hands and knees, scrubbing the floor. There was no point in explaining. Whether there was a snake or not, Cicero had seen what he’d seen. I knew that something was going to happen.

Next day, as soon as I got to the House, Cicero told me to “report to the library.” When I got to the room, Jody was already there, standing with his head bowed in front of Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Thomasen. I automatically did the same.

Cicero closed the door and stood next to it. Jerry said, “Look at me.” Jody and I looked up. “You know why you’re here,” he said. “Each of you has received extraordinary … privileges. Working in this house is a position of trust, which you have enjoyed. But you have violated that trust. While Mr. Thomasen and I are considering your final punishment, we will safeguard this house from any repeated violation. Drop your pants.”

All right, I thought, here comes the paddle, and it’s gonna be bad this time. But that’s not what happened. “All right, Cicero,” Jerry said, pointing at Jody. “Start with that one. Put it on him.”

The big table in the middle of the room had been cleared of books. In place of them were two weird looking objects. Each was a circle of flat pieces of steel, hinged together, with a big steel apparatus attached to the front. What was this? I wondered. And then I knew. You would too, if you’d ever done the rounds of S and M sites. These were chastity belts.

Jody was so scared, his dick shriveled to nothing. Which was lucky for him, because Cicero didn’t have to jam the thing onto him. It took only a minute or so to wrap the belt onto his waist, put his dick in the tube, and lock him up. Now his junk was totally housed in steel, and the shield on the front kept it totally covered.

“But, how can I …” he whimpered. Jerry nodded at Cicero. “You can’t touch your junk,” Cicero said. “You can’t even look at your junk. There’s some holes in the bottom, and you’ll piss through them. There’s also a hole at the top. That’s where the rinse water goes. Rinse it three times a day. And wipe off the outside. I don’t want you stinkin up the house. You don’t need to look at it now. Pull up your pants.”

Workie pants are thick, and they covered the thing pretty well. You could hardly tell he was locked in that steel reformatory.

“Now that one,” Mike said. So it was my turn.

I was scared too. Very scared. I’d never been in chastity. But my dick had also shrunk. Cicero had no problem putting it away in its new home. The belt went on easy, and the lock did its job. Cicero turned the key and put it away in his pocket. I was locked in.

“Button up,” he said. I pulled up my pants and buttoned them. I had lost my cock.

Jody and I stood at attention, and Mike and Jerry looked us over. They seemed pleased. “You will wear your new outfits until further notice,” Jerry said. “Butch, you will return to your duties. Jody, you will report to the House Service for your new labor assignments. If you perform well, you may continue to live in the House while your future is evaluated.”

We walked out the door wearing steel, and we scrubbed floors and wallshe rest of the day like that. The rest of the week, too. Jody was on his knees for the first time — at least during the working day — and he didn’t like it very well. He was leaking tears all the time.   He was a cute guy, and I felt sorry for him, being taken out of the masters’ bed and shoved into the suds like that. Wearing a chastity belt! But he wasn’t the only one that was finding out what it means to have his junk locked up. All day, every day, I was humping my chastity around the place, having to squat to piss and not having the only pleasure you get in your rotten workie existence, which was stroking your dick on your bunk at night. So why should I feel sorry for the new suds boy? Mike was my fuckin PARTNER! And now look at me! I was swabbing his floors, dressed up on a workie suit, with my junk locked in chastity.

And right away I found out that this Challenging Experience would not create any kind of Bonding between Jody and me. Whenever I saw him in the House he glared at me like he was gettin ready to knife me and let me bleed out. He looked at me with tears in his eyes — and also with deep, glowing anger. I tried to talk, but he wouldn’t listen, even when our chastities were clanking side by side on our way to the showers. Which was a horrible experience. Not only did Jody run as far as he could to the far side of the shower shack, but everybody else on the House staff seemed to plan their showers so they could peer at my chastity and “see how it worked.”

Then after a week, a call-back to the library. Same scene. Mike and Jerry side by side, standing in judgment. Cicero in the background, ready to do whatever they wanted, and hoping it would be serious. Jody cowering in the foreground, eyes beaming accusations at me.

Mike started things off. “I want to say to you, Jody, that Mr. Hamilton and I have been disappointed with you. Terribly disappointed. We made every effort to give you a good home here. A good, loving home. And you betrayed our trust. Are you ready to regain that trust?”

Jody looked confused. But he would say anything they wanted, if he could figure out what it was. And he did. “Sir! I am SO sorry! I never meant to do anything that ….   I was just standing there in the room, and … someone started … kissing me….   There was a snake, too, sir. And I was scared, sir. Sir! You know that I … You rescued me from that … other place, sir. …So I just want to say, sir …. If you unlock me, I will never …. I will never do anything like that again, unless you … unless it is something that you …something that you approve of, sir. And order me to do, sir. I mean….”

He put his hands over his face and cried. Then he realized he was supposed to stand at attention, and he put his hands down and cried.

“And you, Butch?” Jerry said.

“I’m very sorry, sir. I’m very grateful….”

“Stop right there,” Mike said. “We know about you. You wanted to be a workie. So Mr. Hamilton bought you and gave you a home. He took a risk and brought you to the House. You were given a chance, Butch. Maybe …it could have led to something. Who knows? But that wasn’t good enough for you. You tried to corrupt this poor young kid. It’s a good thing you were kept from succeeding.”

What could I say? When you’re a workie, what you actually do seems to make some sense. Like killing the snake. Or kissing Jody. Or working on the coffle. But the other stuff, the stuff that people say — that makes no sense at all. I saw that. It wouldn’t change.

“Jody,” Jerry said, “you made a mistake, and you’re sorry for it, and you’ve been punished. We’re putting you back the way you were. Cicero!”

Cicero came out of the shadows and unlocked Jody’s chastity belt, carefully extracting Jody’s dick, which I noticed was now harder than fuck. The belt clanked to the floor. Cicero picked it up and carried it away.

“Thank you, sir!” Jody gasped. “SIRS! Thank you! It will never happen again! SIRS! ….”

Jerry cut him off. “The jade collection needs dusting,” he said.

“Yes sir!” Jody said, and he was out the door.

“Butch,” Mike said. “You’ve had your chance. Cicero, unlock him and return him to the farms.”

“Yes sir,” Cicero said. The key went into its little home in my crotch. My dick slithered out, cold and limp. The belt fell from my waist. An hour later I was back at Barn Number 3, carrying my workie suits packed in a box, ready to be unpacked in my permanent home.

To be continued …

For other prison stories, go to prisonfictions.bdsmlr.com and prisonprocess