EXTRACT FOR
Penal Servitude V2
(Melissa DuVant)
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Penal Servitude V2 Melissa DuVant Copyright © Melissa DuVant The right of Melissa DuVant to be identified as the
author of this book has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of
the Copyrights and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or
utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic
mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including
xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or
retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author. All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention. Chapter Two: Establishing Boundaries Chapter Four: Meeting the Friends Chapter Seven: Accommodating Needs Chapter Nine: Iron Rod of Discipline Chapter Eleven: Bonding with Friends The Young Miss and Her Boy: Caged in Sunlight (Unfree Preview) Penal Servitude Volume One Preview: Initial Inspection Thanks to littleone and his mistress for commissioning this! The shock jolted into Michael's neck, making him tense up, his body pressing against the bars of the cage, metal pressing against his skin. The collar around his neck was tight and hard, metal digging in, the weight of the battery pack oppressive. His wrists were cuffed in front of him, metal biting into his wrists, chains attached to a heavy belt around his waist. 'Hppphh...' The shock made him grunt in pain, unable to form any more clear words through the ballgag in his mouth, the rubber ball wet with spit, his tongue rubbing against it. From inside the cage, his view was limited - two sides were blocked off by walls, from one side there was the underside of a table, and the side that opened was currently blocked by a large spoked wheel, legs wrapped in black jeans just about visible on the other side. From somewhere just out of view came a satisfied sound, before the wheel squeaked and rolled closer, an arm appearing and moving towards the cage door, making Michael flinch backwards. Her nails were painted black, somewhat ragged, fingertips calloused, unlocking the cage before rolling backwards. 'Out.' Her voice was harsh and bitter as she pulled the door open and rolled backwards, the cage opening up enough to let him out. With his hands bound, he couldn't even crawl properly, instead having to shuffle on his knees, feeling the tightness of the cock-cage around him, constraining his flesh even more, biting and digging into him. He had to focus to move, the aftermath of the lightning-shocks still running through his body, making it hard to keep his body under control. Shuffling forward on his knees pressed them against the metal floor of the cage, making his joints ache, his back hitting against the top. Even being outside of the cage did little to make Michael feel less constrained - he was naked except for his collar, cuffs and the cock-cage, crawling out onto cheap carpet, the wheelchair close by. He didn't dare look up, not wanting to meet her eyes, or anger her. 'You're here under my control. This is part of your sentence - I'm meant to monitor and train you, so you can be of use to society. If you misbehave, then I am allowed to punish you.' He glanced up, seeing her fingers stroke against the controller for his collar, tensing up in anticipation, but this time there was no shock through his body, the button not yet getting pressed. 'You'll be sleeping in the cage. I suppose I should feed you, but you won't be getting normal food - you can have dry and powdered food, it's all that you deserve. I probably won't let you stand up either, unless it's for a task.' She wheeled herself further backwards. 'Crawl forward.' His movement was slow and stuttering, knees pressing down onto the floor, every movement of his hands making the belt around his waist tighten up. He still didn't dare meet her eyes, but could see more of her now - sat in her wheelchair, legs in black jeans, bare feet with black-painted toenails, wearing a black t-shirt that was tight over her breasts, emblazoned with the spiky logo of a metal band, the control device for his collar in her lap. 'Hmph. You'll need to work on being faster. You're here to help me, and if you can't even do that, then maybe I'll have to report that, and get you sent back to prison. That guard lady certainly seemed like she would enjoy some more time with you.' He shivered, remembering the impact of Cassandra's fists and feet with his body, the hits rough and brutal, her gloved hands squeezing and torturing his testicles, sending throbbing agony through his body, before tying him up beneath the hot sun. Some of his fear must have shown on his face, as she gave a bleak chuckle. 'Whatever she did to you, I'll have to try and be worse. It's what you deserve, after all. If you ever misbehave, I'm allowed to do whatever I want to you. Stand up.' He obeyed, feeling his knees ache, too long in the cage, still keeping his eyes down, now able to see more of the apartment. Band posters were on the wall, a shelving unit full of records next to the door into the small kitchen, with windows looking over the neighboring tower blocks and down into the street. Standing up made him feel even more exposed, his genitals "protected" only by the cock-cage, the range of motion he could make with his arms highly limited. Her chair squeaked as she rolled forward, her hand snapping forward, fingers tightly gripping around his ball-sack and squeezing. Pressure-pain surged all up through his crotch, into his belly, making his gasp in pain, weakness being forced onto him. 'Maybe a little barbed wire bag for these? You're not going to be allowed to use them, after all.' Despite her words, and the rough handling, he could feel heat along with the pain, the roughness of her calloused fingertips stirring him up. He was stiffening against the cage, the metal pressing back in on him, threatening to pinch and bite if he got any harder, as his breathing hastened, her fingers gripping even more tightly, stretching out his soft and sensitive skin, his balls shaved and tingly. 'I'm not supposed to permanently harm you, but I don't think anyone will care if you end up a little broken and battered. And your sentence is long enough that you're not getting away anytime soon.' She twisted her fingers then let go, and Michael sucked in a deep breath of air, his vision swimming, tears sparkling in his vision. 'I can release you from that little cage, but I don't think I will. You don't deserve pleasure, after all, and you can still piss. Oh, and if you ever make a mess, then I'll make you lick it up yourself.' Her hand lashed out again, a backhand slap to his belly, although she couldn't properly lean into it due to the wheelchair, taking some of the sting from the impact. It still stung, knocking the breath from him, making spit well up around the gag, forcing him to desperately suck inwards, not wanting to get in trouble for making a mess. 'I doubt I will ever let you talk, but if you have to address me or get me a drink from a coffee shop, then my name is Katerina. If you make any mistakes, then I will hurt you. You need to be in your full restraint equipment though. Just in case you try anything. Go to the bathroom. On your knees.' She gave him a shock, a strong one, making his vision swim, his legs getting wobbly, and he dropped to his knees in obedience, the impact stinging and hurting. 'That way.' He started crawling in the direction she pointed, hearing her move behind him, the wheelchair making a soft noise as she rolled forward. Crawling made his knees start to ache, the carpet threadbare, scuffed and marked by the movement of the chair, more dents and scuffmarks on the walls. It wasn't very clean either - he could see dirt and grit that had been tracked in, feeling it stick to his palms as he moved forward. Every movement made the collar shift slightly on his neck, making his skin crawl, fearing another shock, not wanting to be forced to endure more pain, his balls still throbbing from her harsh fingers. His cock, trapped within the cock-cage, swung slightly, mercifully now shrunken rather than painfully engorged. He was directed down a short passageway into what was maybe a spare bedroom, although without a bed, filled high with cardboard boxes, squiggly handwriting over the sides - "bedroom", "books", "music", "clothes". Several black plastic crates, newer and cleaner, were piled up by the door - left here for him. He didn't want to know what they contained - more things to hurt him or keep him under control! One of the wheels bumped into his leg, starting to squash it before she rolled back, and he scooted forward, not wanting to get pinned and hurt even more, as she rolled past him, towards the black crates. She had to lean over awkwardly to open up the one she was reaching for, grunting slightly as she heaved it upwards and onto her lap, plastic clasps clicking as they were opened. She reached inside and pulled something out, latex slithering into sight, shiny black, before she tossed it at him, the material sliding into a puddle on the floor. 'Get dressed. I suppose you can stand up for this. Better that than you flopping around everywhere.' He slowly obeyed, standing up, hunching his shoulders in protectively, not wanting to expose himself too much in case of more strikes. 'Hmm. I'll have to unlock you, won't I? But if you try anything, then I'll knock you out.' She approached, eyes wary, pulling out a key from her pocket and reaching towards him, her other hand on the collar-controller, ready to shock him. He tried to look as non-threatening as possible, as she unlocked the belt from around his waist, and his wrist cuffs, letting the drop to the floor, leaving him even more uncovered and un-protected. Then she retreated, pushing herself backwards to keep some space between them, still watching him cautiously. A finger pushed the controller, a heavy tingle jabbing his neck, making him hiss in pain. 'Now get dressed.' He moved slowly, not wanting to anger her or get shocked again, picking up the bodysuit. Michael could feel the stiff, metal wires and contact pads within it, more potential sources of pain. The inside of it was already powdered, making it easier to start sliding over his skin. He had to step in through the neck-hole, the material stretching around him, stretching to accommodate his body. The sensation of it, stretching and then snapping tight, made him shudder and wince, the suit compressing around him, tighter than he liked. Katerina's finger hovered over the collar-controls, impatiently tapping against the plastic body, driving him to greater speed. He had to twist and wriggle to get his legs into the legs, pushing them down, feeling it squeak and slide over him, awkwardly hopping around to pull it down as his calves and thighs were pushed and compressed into shape. It had a crotch-hole, his caged penis still visible, balls hanging loose. And another hole for his asshole, making him shudder again - at the prison, they had... used him, back there, huge dildos used to stretch him wide and open, violating his body. He didn't want that to be done to him again! Once the suit was up over his legs and onto his waist, it got harder. He kept wriggling and twisting, feeding his arms through the sleeves, hating the tight feeling, his skin vanishing between the glossy black. And he could feel metal contact-points against his chest, back, thighs and stomach, promising further pain. By the time he was done, Michael was slightly sweaty from the effort, sweat mingling with the powder, making him feel clammy and tacky. It pulled on his body, forcing his shoulders back, the high neck making him stand straight. His movements would stretch and pull on it, making it harder to move. Bzzzt. A strong shock snapped through the collar, making him stagger, bringing tears to his eyes. 'Mpphhh!' He couldn't stop himself grunting in pain. Katerina rolled forward, grabbing his testicles and squeezing. 'Time for the belt again.' She pulled downwards, pain flashing hot and fresh between his legs, then letting go and wrapping the belt around his waist, a lock sealing it shut, more weight and pressure on his body. 'Hands. Now!' Her voice cracked in a command, her eyes glaring up at him, as she grabbed at a wrist, snapping a cuff back into place, limiting his movement again. He didn't dare to resist, his other hand being shackled as well. 'And these.' She had to lean over awkwardly to reach into the crate again, pulling out a pair of leather fetters attached to a chain. 'Put these on. I'm not bending over that much.' Her tone was bitter now, the chain hitting the ground heavily. Another collar-shock stung him, as he stooped to pick up the fetters. Partially bent over, yet another shock, even stronger, staggered him, his vision blurring before he half-sank to the floor, struggling to stand. With the wrist-fetters in place, he had to curl up to get the ankle-fetters into place, each one wrapping into place, his fingers feeling fat and numb, struggling to get them shut and locked. The chain between them meant that he would only be able to take small steps, every one snapping the chain tight and taut. 'And this.' Another chain hit the floor with a heavy clatter. 'Use it to join the wrists and ankles.' It was short, forcing him to stoop awkwardly, unable to properly stand. 'Some rules. You will stand only if I order you to. The rest of the time, you can crawl. There's a tilt-sensor on your collar, so if you ever stand up, you will be hurt. I don't want you moving fast as well. Keep it slow. I'll have to get a bell for you, so I know where you are. Every night, or whenever I don't need you, then you'll be in the cage. If you're good, then I'll feed and water you. I don't want you in the bathroom, so I'll have to get you a pot to go in. And your have a special diet, so you shouldn't shit very often. If you dare to make a mess, then I'll find new ways to punish you, so be good, or else. I don't have to let you out of the cage, so I could just lock you in and give you the bare minimum food and water, box it up until your sentence is served. Don't make any problems or break anything, and you'll be allowed some movement. On all fours.' She reversed, keeping him in view as he started crawling forward. Her body was stiff and tense, even allowing for the chair, one hand always on the controller. Having to crawl in the latex was harder than being naked, his balls still aching from being grabbed. 'Faster!' Michael scrabbled to obey, hands and knees pressing against the floor, following back into the main room. 'Back in the cage!' Another shock sent his senses reeling, the world suddenly tilting. 'Hmph. Good, it doesn't take much to put you down. Now get in the cage.' It was an effort to keep crawling around, having to pull himself along the floor, inch by inch, his collar hurting him with every movement. It was a relief to be able to touch the outside of the cage, using it to pull himself inside, the thing heavy enough that it didn't move, serving as an anchor to haul on. He dragged himself inside of the cage, another shock making his neck tense up, his head knocking against the top of the cage, adding a throbbing headache to his injuries. As soon as he was inside, the door slammed shut, catching him on the leg. He grunted in pain, hastily withdrawing his leg, pulling it inside of the cage. It clanged shut again, before clicking shut. From inside the cage, his view was limited again, before a blanket was thrown over the outside, blinding him completely. He could hear her movement, catching the occasional squeak of her chair, more movement, and then the slamming of the front door, before silence. Chapter Two: Establishing Boundaries It was impossible to tell time when locked into the cage, with the blanket over the top, Michael's ears sharp for any sounds, but only able to hear the muted thrum of city life from outside and below. He grabbed the bars and tried pulling on them, hoping there would be some give, but they were strong and unyielding, not moving at all, columns of metal thicker than his thumb. Even the locked opening didn't shift, fitting snugly shut, barely even rattling when he pushed on it. He tried reaching outside of the cage, able to get part of his arm through the bars, and carefully pushed against the blanket. Was she watching? His heart started to pound, skin feeling clammy beneath his latex suit. Was this a trap? He peered outside, seeing more of the apartment, taking in the tatty griminess and the metal posters. Would Katerina be harsher than the prison-guards? Just thinking about some of what they had done to him made his asshole throb and clench, memories of the oversized strap-on dildos violating him making him feel queasy and nauseous. She seemed bitter and cold, liable to prone treatment. Hopefully she would at least feed him! After looking around, he carefully tweaked the blanket back into place, before checking the inside of the cage. Although it wasn't bolted to the floor, it was heavy enough that even throwing his weight around didn't make it move, just making his body ache from throwing himself against the bars. It wasn't long enough to fully stretch out either, only a bit longer than his torso, making him curl up in order to fit, with only a few inches of clearance above his back. On two sides was the wall of the apartment - painted plaster, scuffed and marked, with the paint a different tint where something had blocked the sunlight from making it fade. It was getting darker now, the light getting darker and darker through the blanket. His ears pricked and he heard the door open, followed by a curse and the rolling sound of her chair. It got closer, making him shift awkwardly, hoping he wasn't going to be punished. The blanket was pulled away, revealing the apartment, bathed in golden evening light, shadows now long and stretched. From within the cage, he couldn't see Katerina's face, just her legs in the chair, wrapped in dark jeans. Something plastic hit the floor with a donk, rolling forward - a blue bucket. She took a cardboard box from her lap and put it down next to the cage. 'That's your piss-bucket. With your special food, you shouldn't need anything more. But if you ever make a mess, then I'll hurt you.' She had to bend over to pick it up, setting it by his cage. 'You get to piss once a day. The rest of the time, you can hold it. You can go now. Now, get back from the door, or I'll shock you.' He looked up at her uncertainly - there was barely enough room in the cage to start with, never mind trying to push himself backwards! She leaned forward and the top of the thing rattled, her fist hammering down onto the metal, making him flinch and shudder. Michael tried to press himself back, making himself as small as possible, wincing as there was another impact-strike against the top of the cage, the sound echoing around inside the small space, making his ears throb. He could see the shadows of her hand and arm, fiddling with part of the outside of the cage, metal clicking as she unlocked the door. 'Come out. Slowly, and crawling.' After being stuck inside the tiny space, it was a relief to be able to leave, even if he was still down on all fours. Would there be a chance to try and overpower her? If she needed the chair to move, then if he could knock that over, then maybe he could escape? He'd need some clothing as well though, the latex suit would draw attention. And he had no idea what the range on the collar-controller was - would she be able to do it from down the hall-way? Or even further? A sudden light shock tickled his neck, making him shiver. 'Keep moving.' She put the bucket down, the motion involving bending forward - she was wearing a loose, baggy t-shirt, the top hanging down, giving him a sight of the curve of her breasts, cupped in a black bra. He tried to suppress the surge of blood to his cock, already feeling the pinch of the cock-cage, the metal start to perk upwards. 'Piss then.' She nodded at the bucket, now upright. She had the controller in her hand, a small device that could fit into her palm, tapping it impatiently. The collar felt heavy on his neck as he moved towards it, taking position on top of it, readying to relax his bladder. 'Let me see.' Her voice was still cold, but he heard the tap of a fingernail against the control-device, and obeyed, moving up from all fours so he was kneeling, keenly aware of the slight hardness of his cock. 'Tiny and pathetic. And being bound in that cage means you can't grow, doesn't it? I wonder how much it would hurt you if you did? Maybe, if you're a good boy, I'll let you see some porn, and then see how much that makes you suffer. Now piss, and if you get a drop anywhere else then I'll make you drink the whole damn bucket.' He took hold of his cock, trying to ignore her hard look. He took a hold of his penis, feeling the metal ridges of the cage, carefully aiming it downwards, not wanting to make any mess. It was a relief to relax his bladder, the piss flowing through him. It streamed into the bucket, drumming against the flat base, a hot stream flowing from him into the container. It was a strong stream, as it had been a while since he had been able to go, the tone of the liquid changing as the bucket filled up. The look on her face was one of revulsion as she wheeled backwards, seemingly unable to look away. He could feel himself flushing with shame - it had been bad enough doing this in prison, but doing it in a more normal environment, while being watched, somehow was even more embarrassing and degrading. He couldn't meet her eyes, keeping his head down, seeing the metal wires and bars securely locked into place around his dick, the bucket now about a third full of his own piss. He forced it out, wanting to empty himself completely, carefully shaking himself off, the last droplets falling into place. 'Now pick it up and pour it into the toilet.' His joints felt stiff and sore when he stood, having spent so long on his knees, his head dizzy for a moment, the blood pounding and rushing, vision blurring for a moment. The latex suit pressed around him, further compressing his body, making every movement a little harder, his muscles having to strain slightly against it. 'Quickly! I don't want that disgusting stuff around any longer than is needed.' Stooping made his body ache again, before he gripped the band of the bucket, carefully lifting it up. He knew the way to the bathroom - from the living room, it was just down the hallway and then on the left. The room was tiled, cracks having gathered grime, several large handles having been screwed into the tiles, looking fresh and recent. Pots and bottles were scattered about, the room messy and disordered. Hair-dye, shampoo, shower-gel, half-squashed out tubes of toothpaste and more, all scattered around the place. At one end of the bathtub was a shower, the head looking dirty and unused. The toilet had another large handle to the side of it, for Katerina to pull herself into place. He lifted the seat up with one hand, seeing grime around the inside of the bowl, the rest of the porcelain just as stained. When he poured the bucket in, it turned the water cloudy yellow. Flushing it produced only a weak flow of water, and he had to pump it several times in order to get enough water going to swirl his piss away. As soon as the piss-tainted water was gone, electricity slammed into his neck, making him stagger, the bucket dropping from his hand. 'Put the seat down! Piece of shit.' He slumped against the wall, using the handle to support himself, not wanting to hit his head on the wall or the sink. He heard the tiles creak, before one fell from the wall, the handle coming along with it, along with brick and plaster-dust, the thing now only half-attached. More shocks slammed into him, making his vision spark and flare, and he sank to the floor, unable to keep standing, feeling the shock of the impact onto the hard floor running through his wrists and into his arms. 'Fucking prick! Disgusting stuff!' He squealed through the gag, unable to protest as he was shocked, curling up into a ball, his neck on fire with pain. She wheeled forward, bumping into him, her foot poking him. 'I need to find a way to punish you more for that!' The shocks stopped, the chair trying to move forward again, stopped by his body. 'And now I need to go. Shit, you're going to have to help me. Get the fuck up already.' She rolled and bumped into him again, starting to squash his body, as sense and feeling slowly returned. 'If you can't even lift me, then there's no damn use for you! Get moving!' He had to pull himself up on the edge of the bathtub, legs still weak and wobbly, only just barely able to stand, as she wheeled herself into position, by the toilet. 'And don't look at me!' He dropped his eyes, managing to walk towards her, stepping around the back of the chair. 'And if you try anything, then I'll shock you unconscious!' Her body was rigid and tense, shoulders hunched, hands tense on the armrests of the chair. How was he meant to do that? If he touched her wrong, then she'd hurt him, but if he disobeyed, then she'd probably hurt him more. The back of the chair was in the way, making it hard to tell where he should even grab her, the tense muscles of her back radiating annoyance and anger. He opened up the toilet again, putting the seat down. When he touched her, she flinched, and he twitched backwards in fear. But there was nothing else he could do, so he slid a hand beneath each armpit, trying to ignore her hiss of frustration or anger, pushing his arms forward to hook her with his forearms. She was heavy, an ungainly lump that threatened to drag him forward. If they tumbled to the ground she would definitely punish him though, so he gritted his teeth against the gag and strained, feeling his back start to ache and throb. The weight suddenly lessened, as she pushed down against the chair herself, helping to lift herself, the thing squeaking. Michael managed to exert himself more, feeling the heat through his body, his cage-wrapped cock rubbing against the back of the chair. Katerina growled, sounding frustrated, but he couldn't stop now, trying to twist her around as gently as possible, not wanting to knock her against the walls. The handle was definitely busted, with just one end now attached to the wall, the bottom hanging loose, nails scratching against the tiled wall. Once she was out of the chair, he lost the support of her arms, having to carry her weight himself, her legs limp beneath her, giving no support. He staggered slightly, struggling to hold her up as he tried to turn around and move her into position, her body still rigid and angry in her arms. He managed to complete his turn, stepping awkwardly backwards, back protesting as he stooped, trying to place her over the seat, his back bumping against the wall, broken handle jutting into his back, nails scraping the tile as it moved. As soon as she was sat down, her hand came up, almost hitting him in the face, and he withdrew his arms. He was now wedged into the area behind the toilet, looking down on her head. 'Over there!' She pointed to the far corner, although it was only a pace or two away. 'Down on your knees, and face away. I don't want you looking!' Her voice was stressed, and he could see a pink tinge on her face, anger and humiliation both mingling together. His cock throbbed, and he moved to obey, not wanting her to hurt him further. Once he was in position, he heard the rustle of clothing and more annoyed grunting as she wriggled her trousers down. There was a change in the scent of the room - a sweet, feminine tinge to the air, sending another confused throb through his cock, before there liquid thrumming of urination as she pissed. He swallowed nervously, trying not to think about her crotch, bare and so close, as he knelt, balls between latex-wrapped thighs. The flow of water became a tinkle, then a few more droplets, and then nothing. 'Clean me.' He twitched and froze, not sure if he had heard her right. 'Close your eyes, turn around and clean me.' The bathroom vanished as he closed his eyes, twisting around and slowly crawling forward, feeling his way forward with his hands, touching against the cold, cracked tiles. He reached out and found opened, unfurled jeans, then her legs. A hand grabbed his hair, dragging him upwards, pulling his head between powerful, warm thighs before unbuckling his gag, pulling the fat ball from his mouth and making him hurriedly swallow spit. He could smell her more powerfully now, a slight tinge of sweat and the more bitter tones of piss, his tongue sliding out, finally free of the gag. He slid his tongue against her crotch, daring to open his eyes, a blurry impression of pink-white closeness, bare flesh too close to properly see. Her hand was still tight on his hair, keeping him pulled in close, while his tongue lapped at her slit. He could taste her piss - watery but slightly sour and bitter, making his tongue curl and bringing tears to his eyes, especially with how tightly she was gripping his hair, starting to pull out strands. His cock was throbbing again, tense and confused, the scent turning him on despite the degradation. He kept licking, until there was an annoyed grunt from above and the force on his hair changed, shoving him away. He was held at a distance, blinking his eyes closed, the gag getting shoved back into place, getting locked back on. Michael tumbled to the floor, curling up protectively again as she closed her legs, pulling her trousers back up. 'Now you need to lift me back. Get up. Useless garbage!' He shuddered at the verbal abuse, slowly forcing himself to rise, Katerina's expression dark. Having to lift her from the toilet was even harder, without her being able to help raise herself, and he felt his spine ache and throb from her weight, his lungs straining for enough air, his chest pushing at the latex. He bent at the knees and then heaved, trying to lift Katerina up as gently as possible, her body a heavy and hostile weight in his arms. When he was carrying her, fully supporting her weight, she was tense and hostile, her back rigid against his chest, as he crossed his arms over her chest to try and carry her, feeling the bottom of her breasts, full and heavy. She hissed, before he twisted, managing to get her back into the chair and letting her go, dropping her into position. The collar stung him, weak at first and then more strongly, and he staggered backwards against the wall, glad of the relative coolness, draining excess heat from his body. 'Too rough! And don't you dare touch my breasts!' She wheeled past him, forcing him to squeeze back against the wall or have his toes run over, heading back to the main room. 'Come. On your fucking knees.' He was shocked again, hard and heavy, dropping to his knees again and crawling after her. He hadn't wanted to, but to carry her there hadn't been any other way! By the time he had made it back into the main room, she was by the cage again, the door still open. 'In. Now.' Her finger tapped the controller, jolting him, softer, but still enough to make him wince, his eyes watering. If he was in the cage, maybe she would hurt him less? As fast as he could, he crawled inside, the door clanging shut and being locked, sealing him inside. Her fist hammered against the top of the cage several times, making him flinch and shudder. 'I suppose you need food, but don't expect to enjoy it.' The Young Miss and Her Boy 1: Caged in Sunlight The boy saw Mistress Katherine look upwards at the library shelves, stretching onto tiptoes, her fine, slender legs clad in silk stockings peeking out from beneath her dress. It was clearly out of reach - even with her arms outstretched, it was more than a foot away from her grasping hand. Unless she were to start climbing on the shelves, then there was no hope of being able to reach it. Warm sunlight painted itself against the high shelves, illuminating the airy, open space. 'Boy! I require aid!' She tried to flick her riding crop, only succeeding in striking her long skirts with it, the expensive material absorbing the strike without any sound. She pouted at him, her soft, blue eyes trying to glare, but managing only to look cute. 'Come here, or I'll punish you!' It was hard to look intimidated, but he tried, hoping it would make her happy. He walked across the library, being careful not to let his bare feet make any sound on the floor, although he couldn't stop his chains and fetters making noise as he moved. She was dainty and petite, with rosebud lips and long, honey-blonde hair, which she was currently twining around a finger. She scarcely needed a corset to show off her figure, a simple white dress around her slender body, highlighting her perfectly sized breasts - not too small or too large, just about the right size to cup and play with. He felt himself stiffen, growing and pushing against the metal of his cock-cage. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before he grew any bigger and it became uncomfortable or painful. But she really was pretty, and light and small. She even smelled nice, some floral scent hovering in the air around her. Her attempt at an intimidating glower only made her look slightly confused. She took a step back and gestured down at the ground with her crop. 'Kneel. Here.' Her lips tried to form into a tight, stern line, but still looked soft and kissable. She flicked the crop again, this time managing to stir the air slightly, although still a far cry from the crisp, clear crack it should have made. He obeyed the order, kneeling on all fours where she gestured, making sure he was securely planted. His wrists were chained together with about a foot of slack in the chain, and the same between his ankles, enough that he could set himself properly. This close, her scent was intoxicating, filling his senses, making his head go woozy. She stepped on him, heels digging into his back. Blood surged in his crotch and he tried not to shift, his cock painful against the hard metal, biting his lip in concentration. Glancing upwards, he could see her stocking-clad legs, her dress light and gauzy enough to see the garter straps holding her stockings in place. And between, where her legs met... As she shifted and reached for the book, her heels twisted into him, but she was light enough it didn't really hurt. The scent of her flesh, and thoughts of what was between her legs, set him surging, as he tried to force himself to calm. His cock was in a metal tube pointed downwards, allowing him to pass waste, but not touch himself, or for him to be a threat to Miss Katherine. He felt the spikes in his back shift as there was the soft, papery sound of the book opening, her delicate fingers touching the page. The thought of them sent another painful throbbing of blood to his cock, now bent painfully within its cage. He took several rapid, deep breaths, hoping to chase away her scent. The weight on him shifted as he took another deep breath, weight suddenly vanishing. Before he could react, there was a crash as she fell to the floor, the book landing a moment later. She was sprawled on her behind, starting to rub where she'd landed. Her legs were spread wide, dress having ridden up. He couldn't look away, her pearly-white stockings giving way to plump, soft thighs lightly indented by garter straps, and then the smooth-shaved mound of her pussy. Why wasn't she wearing underwear? His mouth went dry, cock now almost snapping from the pressure with which it pushed against the unyielding metal. She rubbed her head absently, hair shining in the sunlight. She saw him looking, but didn't close her legs, instead spreading them wider. His lust must have shown on his face, as she giggled. 'You look very red. Are you alright?' The metal ring strapped into his mouth made it impossible to speak properly, his lips forced apart. 'Es, iss athaine.' She giggled again. 'Is that how you say my name? Say it again.' 'Iss Athaine.' She said it herself, enunciating the words carefully. 'Miss Katherine. I suppose you are a bit limited. But you are going to be a good boy, aren't you? Otherwise I'll have to send you back to prison, and that sounds bad.' She came over, scuffing her fine white dress as she crawled along the floor, then kissed his forehead. He whimpered as his cock pushed against it's constraints again - he hadn't been allowed relief in months, it felt like he was about to burst, and she was so very soft and sweet and warm! 'Charlotte says I need to be mean to you, but you seem so well-behaved already. Tongue out.' His world drowned in her wide, blue eyes, looking as though she might cry if disobeyed. He followed the order, sticking his tongue through the ring gag, earning a smile and another kiss on the forehead. 'Good boy!' Then she stood, lifting her skirt and exposing herself to him. The scent was overwhelming, the floral scent she wore mingling with that of her own body. So clean and sweet, totally different from the rough-bodied and dirty factory girls he'd been with before. With one hand, she spread herself open, before giving another order. 'Lick!' He eagerly obeyed, gently lapping at her flesh, feeling the warm skin, drinking in the taste of her. She took a grip of his hair; not hard or harsh, but guiding him. He pushed into her, using his tongue to stroke and caress her folds, torn between losing himself in the feeling of entering her, and pain and frustration at his own locked-away rigidity. Her breath was coming in short, happy squeaks as she ground against his face, his tongue sliding deeper and deeper into her, until she was all he could taste, all he could smell and see. Too soon, she climaxed, allowing him a final taste before she stepped back, her skirt falling back into place. 'You are a good boy, aren't you? I'm sure I won't need to use any of Mama's tools to keep you in line, or treat you like Charlotte treats her toys.' Even through her clothing, he could still smell her arousal, and the taste of her was hot and fresh on his tongue. She knelt and unbuttoned his trousers to reveal his metal-sheathed cock. His eyes went wide, and then she slid a slender finger along the metal shaft, lightly stroking his shaved testicles. 'I'm not allowed the key yet, but Mama says I can have it on my birthday. Only a few more days! I wonder what it feels like? I've not been allowed to touch one yet.' Then she dropped lower, taking the tip of the metal shaft into her mouth. He shivered - he could feel her warmth around him, even shielded by the metal, spit starting to ooze along the open end in the metal column. He whimpered, wanting her to stop, wanting her to continue, wanting to finally be allowed to climax. She bobbed her head up and down, hair brushing against her thighs as his hands clenched and unclenched uncontrollably. She raised her head, smiling up at him. 'I've seen Charlotte get a maid to do this with her toy when he's been naughty. Although you've not been naughty, have you? And he has to be tied up, and she beats him as well. But you're a good boy, aren't you? So I won't need to stretch you out on the rack.' He managed to nod, despite the pain and lust surging from his groin, earning another happy smile and a kiss on the cheek. He'd seen Miss Charlotte, Katherine's older sister punishing her slave. She'd had him lashed him to a post in the gardens and then whipped his skin raw, before forcing him to service her friends. They took turns riding him, punishing him further if he ever failed to perform. Katherine was far too kind for such things. Or so he hoped. She reached under her dress, fingering herself, drawing forth her juices and wiping them underneath his nostrils. 'There. So you have my scent. Now, I think I shall see Mama in the gardens.' She clipped a leash onto his collar, pulling his trousers up to cover his chastity belt. She tugged and forced him to stand, ignoring the pain and tension from his cock, as he was led away from the library.
She pulled him through the manor - her steps were so short that it was easy to keep up - into the garden. It was afternoon tea, servants setting out tea and cake and being very, very careful not to make any mistakes. Miss Charlotte was back from the hunt, still in her tight riding trousers and bright red jacket, her crop having been used on a horse for once. Strapped around her waist was a large cock, which she was currently engaged in the process of burying into the ass of an unfortunate maid, a bit between their teeth reducing their protests to garbled moans. Their buttocks were reddened from strikes of the crop, each impact bringing forth another cry of pain. Her mother was rather more refined as she sipped at her tea, sat upon a chair rather than a servant for once. She looked up at her daughter, expression unreadable. He made sure to look down, not wanting to draw her attention and risk arousing her anger. 'Good afternoon, Mama. And Charlotte.' Her sister reacted to her greeting by lashing her mount, a particularly deep thrust of her dildo burying it up to the base, the servant groaning in agony as they were stretched wide. 'Tea, Katherine? Juliana appears to have gotten quite the knack for it. Almost unfortunate, I was in the mood to punish someone. How fares your training?' Katherine tugged on the leash, pulling her property close. Charlotte pulled herself from her victim and they sagged to the floor, earning themselves another strike before they managed to find the strength to stand, rearranging their uniform, shakily thanking Charlotte for being punished. 'You really should be stricter with him. His kind are predatory, they only understand strength and power. Show him that you own him, body and soul. At least mark him up a little.' 'He wouldn't do that! He's mine, and he understands that already.' Katherine turned to him, long eyelashes fluttering. He managed to nod, knowing his place well enough not to speak as Charlotte approached, crop flicking the air. 'He's a beast. No matter what you may think of him, that's all he is.' She grabbed his crotch, feeling the metal beneath his trousers. 'Without this, he'd have you pinned down on the floor, ravaging your sweet, tender body.' 'He wouldn't do that, he's a good boy.' Katherine pouted at her sister until her mother intervened. 'Sit down, both of you. Charlotte is right - you really should take a firmer hand with him. At least to show him the consequences of breaching your trust, if he were to turn his hand to one of the maids? Even with his manhood sealed away, that doesn't make him less of a threat.' 'Mama, you said he was mine, that I could train him how I wanted to!' 'You should look to your sister as an example, she has managed wonders with her training, when you think how wild her slave was to start with.' Charlotte's own personal slave was stood close by - only of average height, but powerfully built, clothing putting his muscled arms and chest on display. His head was hooded, gauze over his eyes to limit his vision. Chains ran between his wrists, ankles and neck, rigged up so that he could be bound into a neat parcel when Charlotte travelled. Tight black leather trousers showed his sturdy leg muscles, while his crotch was bound into a metal device. As punishment for damaging one of Charlotte's favorite dresses, a maid had been stripped naked and a hood forced onto her, before she was allowed to run across the gardens. She hadn't made it far before the slave had caught her, freed from his belt, allowed to unleash himself. From her screams, he had sated himself quite thoroughly, dragging her back by the hair like a trophy, taking the maid repeatedly in front of Charlotte, until she declared herself satisfied. 'It may seem harsh, but it's the only force they understand. I know you are a sweet, innocent child, but the world can be harsh and cruel. You have to understand that they are not like us, they need a certain level of pain before anything sinks in. And if their appetites are not contained, then, make no mistake, he would happily force himself upon you.' 'I'm sure he wouldn't hurt me. Would you?' She turned her wide, innocent eyes on him, full of trust. He shook his head, gag making him unable to speak properly. Charlotte approached, cutting an imposing figure, crop at the ready. She flicked it against him, rattling his cock-cage. 'This little thing needs to be contained and controlled. If one of the maids were to smile at him, then he'd be rampant. Juliana, come here.' She ordered one of the servants to approach, a perky young thing, small-breasted and bright. She gave a curtsey, lifting her skirt high enough to reveal toned thighs and a neat bush of dark pubic hair. He tried to prevent a surge of blood to his crotch. It must have shown on his face, as the crop rattled against the metal again. She was shorter than he was, having to stretch up to push her face close to his, breasts pushing against his chest, her breath brushing against his neck, then his ear. He shut his eyes, trying to calm himself, as her warm body pushed close against his body. A hand pushed itself beneath his shirt, warm and skilled fingers running against his chest. Soft, yielding breasts pushed against him, and he couldn't help but whimper. Charlotte spoke. 'You see? Break him down first.' A finger reached into the metal tube constricting his manhood and brushed against the tip of his cock. He almost fell over from the sudden contact, eyes shooting opening to see the maid. She was still pressed close, a wicked grin on her face, one hand over his cage, a finger inside the metal tube. 'He wants to fuck anything. If Juliana were spread out in front of him now and he wasn't caged, he'd be on her like a beast.' Katherine waved her hands at the maid, trying to shoo her away, as he tried to desperately ignore the fingers touching his sensitive head, without success. She withdrew her fingers, licking the tips and clearly savoring his taste, as Charlotte continued. 'He might seem nice enough, but that's only because you keep him contained.' Their mother intervened. 'Do stop squabbling, please. And Katherine does not yet have the key to his cock, although it won't be long. If this is how she wishes to train him, then that is her decision, rash though I think it may be. Now, why don't you tell me about the hunt? Was it entertaining?' 'Oh yes, very. The prey gave a good go of things, but was bought to ground just outside the Matheson farm. Jenvers had the fortune to bring it down, so he's celebrating with his cronies.' The maid was still looking at him. As soon as she was unobserved, she slowly pushed her finger into her mouth, drawing it in and out, coating it with spittle, her eyes bright. He couldn't make himself look away, despite the throbbing pain from his cock. Then his owner spoke, still clearly upset with her sister and mother. 'I'm sure this one isn't that bad! He's going to be mine, and no-one else's, I'll train him to be kind and well-behaved.' The mother and daughter were both lost in gossip, the mother negligently waving a hand, dismissing her youngest daughter. With a heavy sigh, Katherine left, dragging him along behind, the throb in his crotch finally, mercifully, fading away. Penal Servitude Volume One Preview: Initial Inspection The prison van was dirty and cramped, over a dozen prisoners all stuck into the same place. Every movement made chains clink - Michael's wrists were not only chained together, but also chained to a fetter between his ankles, the whole thing locked to a ring on the floor. He could feel every shake and judder of the prison van whenever it hit a pothole, the cushioning on the seat virtually gone, springs poking into his butt with every bouncing shake. The prison jumpsuit chafed his skin, material rough and uncomfortable. The windows were all darkened, making it impossible to see anything other than the vague impression of "movement". Brakes squeaked, the sudden stop harsh enough that he was slammed forward in his seat, to the reach of the chains, the links wrapped around his wrists and ankles pinching his flesh. He could hear a little but from outside, metal squeaking and grating, the sounds of voices - had they arrived? He'd felt numb ever since the sentence had been passed down, unable to believe that he'd been sentenced to 10 years! How bad would the prison be? The vehicle jolted into spasmodic movement again, jolting forward in uneven lurches, every start and stop making the chain scrape and rub against his skin. At the front of the fan, a guard was stood, watching over the prisoners, holding onto a strap that hung from the ceiling to keep her balance. Her eyes were hidden by reflective lenses, but the baton and spray on her hip seemed a good reason not to draw her attention! Her uniform shirt was tight around her large breasts, but another prisoner that had commented had received a swift slap to the face, breaking his lip, blood trickling downwards. It was still there, a dirty brown stain on the floor. The engine cut off, the interior suddenly silent. At the front of the van, there was a hydraulic pop as the door opened, the guard shouting orders. 'Listen up, you maggots! We're going to look after you and make you into productive members of society! Be good little boys and we won't have to do anything you won't like!' She took out her baton, flicking it out to full extension then smacking it against a metal bar, the prisoner cuffed there flinching away. 'Good boys listen and obey!' She smacked the bar again. 'And good boys let their guard know when they've heard! Sound off!' There was an awkward, staggered chorus of half-hearted agreement, of "yes" and other terms, as two more guards entered the van, virtual copies of the first, save for slightly different haircuts. 'Time for processing!' They started to move down the vehicle, unlocking each of the prisoners as they passed, dragging them out. No-one resisted, although that didn't stop a few flicks and strikes of batons, the metal rod flicking against soft and sensitive skin, the jumpsuits providing little protection. It didn't take long until the guard was at Michael's seat. She had to stoop to reach the lock on his chains, a key flashing as she opened it up, allowing him more movement - although his wrists were still attached to his ankles, he could at least stand up now. 'Get moving, inmate. Follow the line.' With the fetter between his ankles, he could only take small steps, the prison-issued shoes scratchy and uncomfortable, thin enough that he could feel the dents and bumps in the flooring, as he made his way towards the front of the van, climbing down the steps and onto a concrete loading bay. Other prisoners were lined up in front of him, slowly shuffling forward, towards a door marked "processing". No-one dared speak, another guard watching them, slowly smacking a baton against her hand, her sunglasses making it impossible to tell where she was looking. The line moved quickly, and it wasn't long until he was inside - staring down a starkly industrial passageway, with pipes and wires strung along the top, reinforced doors along the walls. From ahead, came a gurgling, wet scream, cut suddenly short as a door slammed shut, silencing them. Cold, clammy sweat started to trickle down Michael's back, making his jumpsuit stick to his body. What was going to be done to him? The only sounds were those of chains clinking, as the line slowly shuffled forward. Guards walked up and down, omni-present, keeping an eye on them. Michael hunched his shoulders, hoping not to be noticed. It seemed far too short a time until he was at the front of the line, staring at thick metal doors, covered with scuffs and impact marks. They opened without any human intervention, a motor softly whirring into life, and he stepped forward. Inside, everything was stark white or gleaming metal, the space divided by tiled walls into internal partitions. A painful-sounding splutter came from somewhere out of sight, followed by a meaty-sounding impact noise. A guard stepped forward, the first one he had seen that didn't have her eyes covered. She looked down at him, as she adjusted the black surgical gloves on her hand. The top button of her uniform shirt was unbuttoned, showing a generously deep cleavage, a touch of lace doing little to dispel the ominous power that surrounded her. He gulped as she stared at him, at least a foot taller than he was, as she approached, taking his chin in her hand and forcing him to look up. His mouth went dry as she gave him a hard smile, before moving her hand to his neck and gripping. He spluttered and she pulled him forward, into one of the cubicles. His eyes were watering, making it hard to see, and when she let go, he coughed and spluttered, trying to gather himself. 'Stand on the X. Obey, and this will hurt less.' Her voice was cold and quiet, demanding obedience - he looked down, seeing a white "X" that had been spraypainted onto the floor. 'I am your rehabilitation officer. I will be responsible for changing you from useless scum into something useful. Any disobedience will be harshly punished.' His neck was still sore, and he could feel the strength of her grip even after she had let go, as she grabbed at his wrist-chains, unlocking the cuffs. He had to half-step back to avoid them landing on his feet. 'Strip for initial inspection.' She stood there, staring at him, and his hands slowly went to the buttons of his jumpsuit, undoing them. With the ankle-fetters still attached, he couldn't remove it, but he opened up the front then pulled his arms from the sleeves, letting it drop to his ankles. A flush covered his face as she stared at him, the faintest trace of a smile on her face. She approached, and he looked away, shame and humiliation starting to burn. Her gloved hand reached out and stroked his chest, the fingers slippery-smooth. 'Nice, fresh meat. You're going to be fun to play with.' She stroked one of his nipples, before suddenly pinching it between her fingers, a jolt of pain going through him. 'Some rules - you are to speak only when instructed to. Any rebelliousness will be punished - someone soft like you won't like the hole. You will obey any orders from the guards.' She used her other hand to squeeze his other nipple, crushing the sensitive flesh and making him gasp in pain, before she let go. 'For now, you are prisoner GH-37. If you're a good boy, you might be allowed a name.' She suddenly grabbed his throat and squeezed, making it impossible to breath. He spluttered, all strength gone from his body, sparks dancing in front of his eyes. Her grip was like iron, something he had no hope of breaking free of, and he was pulled up to be on tip-toes, still not quite up to her height. She stared at him, eyes cold and dominating, before letting him drop, the chains clinking back onto the floor. He leaned forward, coughing and spluttering. 'Cavity search. Mouth open.' Before he could do anything, she had grabbed his cheeks, her other hand pushing into his mouth. She pinched his tongue before her fingers slid down his throat, making him cough and gag, having to fight against his gag reflex. His jaw was stretched painfully wide, the taste of her gloves vile on his tongue as she twisted her hand around, pushing it against his teeth. His mouth was stretched open so that, even if he wanted to bite down, he couldn't, having to stand there and be violated. Her leg brushed against his bare cock, making his aware of his own nudity and weakness, his balls hanging down. She kept twisting her fingers around before withdrawing them, staring him down as she wiped them off against his chest, his nipples still sore from the squeezing. 'Bend over.' She grabbed his hair and pushed downwards, forcing him to bend over. When he tried to resist, she simply pushed harder. 'Grab your ankles, GH-37.' She slapped his back with her hand, knocking the air from his lungs, and he obeyed, feeling his back strain at the enforced bending. 'Hmm, that needs work. I like my boys to be nice and easy to bend.' She walked around behind him, her booted steps loud on the ground, before she slapped his ass, then grabbed his buttocks and spread them. 'No!' He had protested before he had realized it, shaking his head in protest. She slapped his ass again. 'Was that an object, GH-37? If you prefer, I can get the spreader, use that to open your up. Or are you so precious that you don't want your dirty asshole checked?' She spread his buttocks again, running a finger over his asshole and making him shiver. 'A pretty little thing like you is going to be very popular here. Although I could protect you, if you're a good little boy?' She started to push a finger into him, painfully scraping his sensitive flesh. 'Beg, and I'll even use some lube, spare your pretty little asshole a little.' She kept twisting and pushing, slowly opening him up further and wider. 'Beg, or this will hurt more.' He whimpered, feeling his heart race as she started to violate him, her finger beginning to stretch his sphincter open. 'Please!' 'Oh? A little louder?' 'Please! Please...' She slapped his ass. 'That'll do, I suppose.' She stepped away, and he heard the phut of a pump. When her fingers touched him again, they were cool and slippery, her finger sliding into him. He tensed, but her finger still advanced, forcing it's way into him. 'This tight little pucker of yours will need loosening. But there's going to be plenty of time to work on that.' He could feel the first knuckle slide into him, the tip of her finger twisting and shifting around inside of him. It kept pushing, powerful and inexorable, impossible to resist. It felt huge, massive and intrusive, violating his innermost spaces. Tears started to well up in his eyes, as her second knuckle entered him. 'Some people hide things very deeply inside of themselves. I wonder how deep into you I can go? Or maybe I should add a second finger?' He felt another digit push against his asshole, threatening to stretch it wider open. Bent over as he was, he couldn't even move away, as he felt the base of her hand against his backside, her whole finger inside of him. The second finger stroked against his flesh again, before withdrawing. Her finger slid partially out, before suddenly jabbing into him again, twisting and wriggling inside of him, a forced violation. Then her other hand pressed between his thighs, cupping his testicles. He tried to tense his thighs, but it was too late, her grip too strong. She squeezed, compressing them and making him exhale in a long, drawn out whimper. 'Hmm, a good size. Although they'll need shaving. Much tidier.' She started rolling them between her fingers, freezing him in place. A finger flicked out, tapping his flaccid cock. 'Maybe you need a little more encouragement? Or perhaps I should inspect inside that tiny little cock of yours? I can get a urethral probe, that's always fun. You might have hidden something inside of your cock. Although nothing very large.' She tapped it again, while continuing to twist her finger inside of his asshole. 'Well? Would you like a metal probe up your dick-hole?' 'No!' She squeezed his balls harder. 'You are to refer to me as "Ma'am". So, what do you say?' 'No, please, ma'am!' 'You're a fast learner,
I like that. I won't look inside your precious,
tiny cock then.' She gave her finger
another twist, making Michael gasp and whimper.
His arsehole felt like it was slowly tearing open, the finger feeling
huge at it twisted around. Another finger
would break him all the way! Her knuckles
pressed against his buttocks as she shoved her hand forward again, before
pulling out, leaving him gasping for breath. He started to rise,
before she slapped his ass. 'Not yet, I
like you down there. And I still need to
inspect your tiny cock.' She hadn't released
his ballsack yet, and the pressure was making them throb with pain. A finger flicked out, hitting his cock and
making it flap upwards before arcing down again, to flop against her fingers. 'I wonder how you
react to... stimulation.' The pressure lessened,
and she started to massage his balls in her palm, one of her fingers teasing
against the underside of his shaft. He
couldn't control himself, feeling his cock start to harden, poking against his
belly. 'Ah! So you are enjoying this? Nasty, trashy piece of shit that you are.' She grabbed him by the
hair, wrenching him upwards, tearing out some of his hair. Without his body pressing against it, his
cock had more space to grow, as she kept massaging and stroking his cock and
balls. 'Some good growth. It might be worth keeping you around, even if
you are miserable scum.' She pressed
against him from behind, her breasts full and large against his bare back. She let go for a moment, withdrawing her hand
through his thighs before bringing it around his body, now starting to pump his
cock. The latex slid over his skin, the
lack of lubricant making it a dry, rough and forced arousal. With her grip still tight, he couldn't resist
or fight back, without risking getting his genitals hurt. It didn't take long
until he was at full length, her hand pumping, rough despite the latex
glove. He could feel the throbbing release
start to build up inside of himself - would she force him all the way? As he panted and gasped,
just on the edge of release, she let go, leaving his cock throbbing in front of
him, heavy and erect, his hips pistoning forward against his will. 'You're here for
rehabilitation, so you're not allowed pleasure.
At least, unless you make me very happy. Pull your clothes back on, and I'll walk you
to your cell. If you delay, then
perhaps, hmmm... I wonder if that tight
little asshole of yours could take my baton?
It could do with some stretching, I think.' He hurried to pull his
jumpsuit back on, the material coarse and rough on his still-swollen cock, pulling
it against his body. She pushed him between
the shoulder-blades, shoving him forward.
'Let's take you to your cell, you sack of shit.' |