VOLUNTEERS NEEDED
Here at the Long Term Locking Metal Restraint Testing Facility, we’re looking for some able-bodied men to test out some of our heavier equipment. We have to make sure our restraints are 100% escape proof, and the only way we can be sure of that is to lock men in them for weeks on end. To volunteer for this important work, you must be in excellent physical health and you must be available for a minimum of 30 days. (Longer terms of 90 days or 365 days for test subjects are also available.) Participants must sign a release granting the facility sole discretion. That means once you are in — there is no early release.
By Red
I saw the advertisement on the Metalbond blog. Since I had been forced to take a month off from work because of the company’s new vacation policy, I applied. Rather than forfeit my accumulated vacation days, I decided to submit an application for 30 days in heavy chains that the advertisement on Metalbond was offering. I never expected my hastily prepared short essay would win, but I duly received a notice informing me of my being selected for a month of heavy metal prison restraint testing.
After I had signed and returned the “Liability Release and Power of Attorney” for my minimum 30-day test of the long term locking restraint system that the company had designed for slaves while serving their punishment, I received directions with the plane tickets that subsequently arrived.
“I am Red,” I said to the uniformed person waiting at the second level of the short-term car parking at the airport. His response was to pull my hands behind my back and lock them in tight rigid handcuffs. He marched me forcefully to a van where he inserted a large rubber ball in my mouth and locked a canvas hood over my head.
After a long drive we reached what seemed like rough dirt road. The driver backed up to the building and two men roughly took me out of the van and walked me down a long flight of steps in to what must have been a basement. I heard a cell door being opened then a sound like a manhole cover being dragged across the hard, concrete floor.
My old clothes, which I was told would be all that I should wear, were quickly cut off me, leaving me completely naked. I was manacled with very heavy irons around my neck, waist, wrists and ankles, and then a thick rubber mask with an inflatable gag was pulled over my head. A feeding tube was inserted in my left nostril and forced into my stomach.
Two men grabbed me by my armpits and lowered me into a pit in the middle of the cell. The manhole cover was dragged over the entrance to the pit, and it clicked shut. I could hardly move because of the heavy iron manacles I was now wearing, and when I tried standing up a bit I found that the manhole cover was just above my rubber hooded head.
I was told that my first day would start with my being fed via the feeding tube. This would eventually cause me to squat and go to the bathroom. After a second similar “meal” I would be showered and that would also clean the pit but leave me shivering in the cold. The basement temperature was certainly not conducive to rapid air-drying, and I could hardly sleep because of the involuntary shivering of my body. I tried to warm myself by getting my hands on my increasingly hard dick, but the wrist manacles prevented me from getting my hands anywhere near my throbbing organ.
Chapter 2 – I Learn Time Passes Slowly
During my first two days of force feedings (or was it three or four days? Since I really had no way to measure time, I guessed it to be two days), nothing changed. My body reacted to the punishment of the heavy manacles by becoming bruised. With every attempt to change my position, I found the restraints had been carefully designed to keep me in a stressed position most of the time. I was so horny, however, that each time I changed positions I tried to wank. The inability to touch my dick even with a fingertip or my thigh made my frustration grow all the more.
The pit was designed for its occupant to sit with his knees and butt against the walls. I could only get my feet flat on the floor if I bent my neck and placed my head against the manhole cover that locked me in the pit. I could not straighten my arms, so my biceps and triceps cramped in protest against my inability to flex them and to ease my aching muscles that resulted from the confined conditions in the pit.
I could feel my muscles cramping from the stress of being held in the confined space for the ever-lengthening hours. I tried to limit my movements, as I thought this caused the manacles on my body to pinch the skin and cause additional bruising under the restraints. I waited until the cramping was almost unbearable before changing to a new position in a vain attempt to relieve the stress and achieve a degree of comfort. But the short chains ensured that there were really no body positions that did not cause stress to some part of my body or bruise my skin.
It was all I could do to take small naps in the hole that had become my home. I was horny and wanted to pleasure myself, but the chains prevented my hands from making any contact with my constantly aroused organ. I found being awake both physically painful and mentally taxing, because I kept remembering that I had signed for a minimum thirty-day punishment. There was no any way that I could get myself out of the pit in my chained and shackled state. If my captors wanted to extend my time here, there was nothing to stop them.
I had completely lost track of time after about the third or fourth day. Each day was the same. Suddenly I would feel my liquid protein being poured down my nostril and my body would flinch in pain in protest to the abuse I could do nothing about. The abrupt nightly shower was the worst shock of all. I would shiver and try to get some sleep while thinking that perhaps I had signed away my rights forever and would never get free of this restraint testing punishment.
One night I thought I heard one of my keepers commenting to another that the blue pill they were feeding me was really working. At first I did not know what he was talking about, but then I remembered that someone told me that Viagra came in blue pills. My face felt flushed after every feeding, but I had thought that that was due to the tight rubber mask.
I found the rubber mask and gag very frustrating. I didn’t like the fact that I could see nothing and that the heavy mask made hearing very difficult if not impossible. The gag was so large that as I was being fed through my nostril I had an urgent need to get more air to my lungs. I was really claustrophobic and the mask was carefully designed to play on this fear every minute I was wearing it. After being fed with the liquid protein, I had to put my mind in neutral and breathe deeply for about fifteen minutes to get over this crushing fear
Chapter 3 – They Raise the Stakes
“Well the first test has not served much purpose,” I heard one of my jailers say somewhere above my pit.
“So let’s lift him out and try these,” I heard another voice say, accompanied by the sound of the rattle of steel and chains.
I heard the lock click above my head and the manhole cover over my small pit was removed.
“Stand-up, prisoner,” said a voice. “We have much more testing to do.”
Because of the hood and the gag in my mouth, I could not say anything, but I stood up slowly and found I could now stand up fully.
“Raise your arms in the air.”
I tried to do as ordered, but as the chains were hooked to my collar and waistband I could only raise them up as far as my nipples. I felt something being connected to my wrist cuffs. First my right wrist and then my left wrist were locked to some kind of rigid object. Finally the rod, (for that is what it was), was locked to a ring on my collar.
I was lifted out of the pit, carried across the cell floor and set down against some sort of rigid object. Immediately steel bands were fastened around my thighs. My arms were tied high and my legs were locked against some sort of concrete prison bed.
“We really need to get that pit cleaned up a bit. We have some equipment you get to test and we would not want it to get into that filth.”
I could hear them spraying down the pit with what smelled like some kind of strong soap. They took quite a while, and then I could hear them using another motorized pulley to drop something else into the pit. I knew that whatever they were doing could not be good for me. Then I heard the sound of a blow drier being used to dry the pit.
As soon as the drier was switched on, the guards their attention to me. I could hear them lifting and moving metal and chains. I knew thought that the shackles I was now wearing would soon be replaced with something else to be tested on me.
My wrists were grabbed and a much wider shackle was added to each one. They felt heavier, but I really could not tell as I still had my arms held high. I could not resist their adjustments to my punishment restraints. I tried to protest moan, but I could barely hear myself because of the heavy mask and gag in my mouth. I wished I had not volunteered for the month in these chains.
I really wondered what made me volunteer.
Chapter 4 – The Pit Was Now a Horror
The guards had swapped all of my gear for wider, heavier gear. This time each chain-to-chain restraint also had a connected bar. I could move my arms and legs a little but far less than I had been able to with the first manacles. I was wearing wide ankle shackles and a tight wide metal belt. Although I could not feel them with my fingers, I am sure every band or belt was an inch thick and close to three inches wide.
They forced me into a hunched over position where I had to squat on my knees and bend at the waist with my head and neck high. My claustrophobia returned when they replaced my gag with one that had a tube that extended about three inches down my throat. I was doing my studied deep breathing when I realized the guards were working on my cock and balls.
They placed a tight ring around my manhood and connected it to loops on the wide steel belt. They connected a flap of metal to the back of this ring and threaded it between my legs to the backside of my wide belt. It was shaped to ride deep in my ass furrow, exposing my rosebud. A curved metal tube was inserted up my urethra. I thought that they were going to insert it all the way to my bladder, but they stopped a little short.
After the tube was inserted and screwed in place to prevent it coming out, they covered my dick with a metal chastity tube. It was small and tight and I knew a hard-on would be impossible. I felt a metal covered rubber tube being screwed to the plug in my piss hole. I had a very bad feeling about this. They connected it to the rubber tube in my throat. The guards were very quiet about what they were doing, and this made it all the more ominous. The games they were now playing were more than simple chain gang control techniques. I was a volunteer who had made a very bad mistake!
It was time for me to be returned to the pit. I was lifted up by the halter of chains that were now in place and was slowly lowered into the hole.
“Wait, I need to position him on the slots,” one of the guards said as I was slowly being lowered. He grabbed my leg and rotated me about a quarter turn as my waist belt reached the top of the pit. There the belt connected with a pair of slots that a post on the belt locked into to make me continue down into the pit to a very specific spot. My neck shackles were rigidly attached to my wrist shackles, and my wrist shackles were rigidly attached to my belt waistband. Each ankle was attached to the waistband to force me to stand on my toes unable to relieve the tension in my calf muscles.
The manhole cover was pulled over the top of the pit and locked with a padlock. All of the time outside of the pit had really made me need to piss. They seemed to have doubled up on the liquids in my early feeding so my bladder was overflowing. Without thinking about the consequences, I let go of a huge stream of piss. It travelled up my new piss pipe into my piss gag.
I was overwhelmed with all the piss, but I was so full I could not stop pissing. I felt like I was drowning in all my piss and the gag kept it in my mouth so I had to recycle every drop. It took a long time to clear my bladder, but before I knew it was again full. I was recycling piss, and it tasted worse with every cycle.
Chapter 5 – The Test Enters a Rough Phase
Soon after the guards had left for the day I began to hear the hum of a motor. It sounded like it was geared down to move slowly but strongly. Although all of my senses were at attention I could not feel any assault on my body for about a half hour. Suddenly I knew what was going on. Something that they had lowered into the Pit while they were fitting my new chains was approaching my asshole.
The new steel between my ass cheeks was guiding something toward me. I could feel it pressing against that steel and the steady force lifted my total body more than three inches up. My feet were completely off the floor but that was only temporary. The motorized object was sliding up my ass crease toward my hole.
Suddenly I felt my whole body drop until my feet were on the floor and something was firmly up my asshole. It imbedded itself about six inches deep in my hole almost immediately. There was a massive new pain and I immediately tried to stand up to force the object out of my ass. It was hopeless, I could only raise myself about four inches with all of the new iron they had added to my restraints, and my ass was still impaled another four inches.
The motor continued to make its measured pace, each minute pushed the device a half inch further up my ass. Suddenly when the device was about eight inches deep in my ass it stopped. It was silent as the motor stopped leaving me deeply imbedded on the smooth feeling but fat device. The hours passed and I remained with my ass invaded with this most intrusive new device.
The guards came for my evening feeding but I could not get them to understand my perilous suffering in the new restraining gear they had prepared for me. It seemed as though my feedings were being increased in volume as I could feel my stomach fill near a stretching point with each new meal. The liquids did help me sweat more heavily under my mask. I was always hot during the period I envisioned as the day, and cold in the period after the automatic showers came on to wash my body and clean the Pit.
Although the protein feedings did not create much waste, I felt strongly that I needed to take a shit. The huge plug-like device in my ass prevented any possibility of that. My discomfort level was increasing with the constant increase in the amount of liquids and waste I was retaining or recycling.
Chapter 6 – The Jolt with No Satisfaction
Although there were no really comfortable positions any more, I found I could sleep until a muscle became massively stressed, or they came for a feeding. I had even found that I could stand the coldness after the shower, as the Viagra they were apparently feeding me kept my face so flushed it almost made my whole body hot.
I had again completely lost track of time, but I think I had been in my new irons for two or three days. As I slipped off to sleep with my perpetually hard dick locked in its chastity tube, I began to feel a new sensation in my midsection. I was really not sure what it was, but there seemed to be something tickling my prostrate. The tickling quickly became more powerful.
I remembered what one of my friends had said when he described a similar sensation. It was electro stimulation coming from the probe that was inserted deep in my ass. It felt like I was just about ready to cum, but it was a cliffhanger. The electric current would be intense one cycle, then almost imperceptible the next. I would be on the edge of a climax for what seemed like a half hour then I would almost forget the electrode up my ass was active.
While I don’t really know how long the infernal system kept me on the edge of cumming, but I began to get the taste of what I suspected was pre-cum in a little less than two hours. It was salty and slimy. Then I felt the undeniable taste of cum itself enter my mouth. I was being milked, but I was getting no satisfaction from the ejaculation I needed so badly.
My dick soon started a kind of dry pumping. It hurt a lot. The cum in my prostrate had been electronically milked for recycling, but all of my attempts to pump the last of it out to receive the pleasure of an ejaculation failed. I tried to get my hands to my chastity unit to help my now painful organ to receive satisfaction, but the chains and braces prevented even the slightest interaction with my hands and my dick.
I tried to suck the tube that was down my throat to artificially give myself a blow job, but the gag and the tube were perfectly designed to prevent that. My cheeks were so full of the gag that my mouth could not generate any pressure. When I tried to use my lungs I found all its pressure went to the one nostril they had established for my breathing.
I was hot and horny, but there was no way to remedy my predicament. I never considered when I volunteered that I would not be able to wank. In fact, in the back of my mind, I guess, that thought of my being able to masturbate while locked in chains had made me sign up for this at the Metalbond website in the first place.
Chapter 7 – The Recycling Reaches EPA Goals
I have lost all track of time. I can think of nothing but the mistake I made when I volunteered to be confined at the Long Term Locking Metal Restraint Testing Facility. Yet each day, my fighting against my bonds seems to strengthen my muscles. The protein mixture is keeping me healthy so that I can take the full measure of their punishments. Not a waking moment goes by without my wanting to ejaculate and rid myself of the continuously growing horniness.
I had decided that they would never allow my bowels to move again as the electrode equipped plug up my ass stayed in place and delivered what seemed like randomly timed sessions where I was painfully milked and stripped of my male honey without receiving the slightest pleasure from the act.
Today there has been a big change in the plug inside me. I hear a pumping sound and feel something like a balloon inside my rosebud being expanded to a huge size. A moment later there was a second balloon being expanded just outside my asshole. I don’t know what these are but I have learned that all other changes, it will be my body that suffers the consequences. I guess this is what, indeed, their punishment is designed to do.
“Open the pump well,” I heard one of my guards order as they approached my cell for one of my ever larger protein feedings. “And connect the exhaust hose to his feeding system.”
Soon my belly was full with the protein mixture and it was so tight at the wide steel belt that I cried out in my gag for them to stop. If they heard me they did not stop. I was fuller than I had ever been, and my bladder was loaded and I needed to recycle another load of my piss.
“We believe you are a shit packer,” the other guard yelled at me, “and we have prepared a gallon of saline solution that should help you with the problem.”
“Enjoy,” the other jailer said in a time that scared the shit out of me.
It was about an hour before I understood what the guards were talking about. As I awoke from a nap I suddenly became aware of a new feeling in my gut. It was just below my waist, and it started with a feeling of fullness. I tried to reposition my body to ease the increasingly painful sensation that was growing in my abdomen.
There were sudden cramps as I realized they were giving me an enema. I remembered the word “gallon.” I had never had an enema that big. I had of course used a shower enema before and maybe a quart of water when I was sick at home as a kid. The thought of a gallon enema was really frightening, but I am sure that they now have pumped that much up through my sealed ass plug.
Chapter 8 – The Final Act of Control
I heard the pump shut off, signaling, I assume, that the gallon had finally all been pumped into my ass. I could not see how fat my abdomen was with the saline water, but it felt like every possible inch of stretch in my body had been taken by this new punishment. As I waited for the water to ultimately be released, I realized that the bulk of my body that was not covered by the belt restraint must have been puffed full of water.
I was almost continuously recycling my piss. I could hardly get the large volume down my throat before my bladder was full and screaming for another release of piss to my mouth. I kept expecting the enema to be released as I had held it for what seemed like hours. I finally heard the guards returning for another feeding. I was having difficulty breathing, as my stomach was so full it was pressing against my lungs.
As the guards walked away from my feeding, I could hear them talking softly between themselves. While I could not make out what they were saying, I could certainly tell that each guard was making the other laugh loudly with each secret conversation. I knew they were talking about me, and it could not be good fortune that was coming my way. I had to wait several hours before I knew what they were talking about.
I heard no one come to my cell door, but suddenly there was a flow of water coming down my feeder tube and my hardly emptied stomach from the previous meal was being filled again. At first there was no explanation of what was happening but I started to have that frightening feeling that I was in an increasingly degrading punishment for the rest of my life.
Suddenly I realized that my enema-filled ass was being drained, and that gave me hope. That hope, however, was misdirected. Suddenly I realized the enema must be the source of my new stomach filling. Everything was being recycled. My piss and my food waste were both being recycled down my throat, where I could again process them!
My protein mixture was feeding my muscles as they fought to free myself from the heavy chains and manacles that held me almost motionless in my pit. I was getting stronger and that dissipated the protein into my muscle tissue. As soon as I felt my stomach was empty, the enema pump came on to again fill my ass and prepare the waste for recycling. My only hope was that they would free me at the end of my thirty days.
“We have some news for you,” the guard said on his next feeding run. “Your employer has just filed for bankruptcy. Apparently the firm is another casualty of the recession.”
He slid open the top manhole of my Pit and continued the conversation.
“Your month will be up tomorrow, do you want to be released or do you want to stay here where we feed you free daily?”
I tried to yell that I wanted out, but it just came out as a mumbled garble of indistinguishable sounds.
“Good, we thought you would want to stay, since you authorized that from the beginning,” the jailer said as he slid closed the Pit’s manhole cover and clicked the lock tight.
THE END
Red welcomes comments and requests for other specific types of stories. You may contact him at HardRedXXX@gmail.com — but don’t expect him to answer, as he is pretty much locked up in his Pit at the Long Term Locking Metal Restraint Testing Facility.
Here at the Long Term Locking Metal Restraint Testing Facility, we’re looking for some able-bodied men to test out some of our heavier equipment. We have to make sure our restraints are 100% escape proof, and the only way we can be sure of that is to lock men in them for weeks on end. To volunteer for this important work, you must be in excellent physical health and you must be available for a minimum of 30 days. (Longer terms of 90 days or 365 days for test subjects are also available.) Participants must sign a release granting the facility sole discretion. That means once you are in — there is no early release.
By Red
I saw the advertisement on the Metalbond blog. Since I had been forced to take a month off from work because of the company’s new vacation policy, I applied. Rather than forfeit my accumulated vacation days, I decided to submit an application for 30 days in heavy chains that the advertisement on Metalbond was offering. I never expected my hastily prepared short essay would win, but I duly received a notice informing me of my being selected for a month of heavy metal prison restraint testing.
After I had signed and returned the “Liability Release and Power of Attorney” for my minimum 30-day test of the long term locking restraint system that the company had designed for slaves while serving their punishment, I received directions with the plane tickets that subsequently arrived.
“I am Red,” I said to the uniformed person waiting at the second level of the short-term car parking at the airport. His response was to pull my hands behind my back and lock them in tight rigid handcuffs. He marched me forcefully to a van where he inserted a large rubber ball in my mouth and locked a canvas hood over my head.
After a long drive we reached what seemed like rough dirt road. The driver backed up to the building and two men roughly took me out of the van and walked me down a long flight of steps in to what must have been a basement. I heard a cell door being opened then a sound like a manhole cover being dragged across the hard, concrete floor.
My old clothes, which I was told would be all that I should wear, were quickly cut off me, leaving me completely naked. I was manacled with very heavy irons around my neck, waist, wrists and ankles, and then a thick rubber mask with an inflatable gag was pulled over my head. A feeding tube was inserted in my left nostril and forced into my stomach.
Two men grabbed me by my armpits and lowered me into a pit in the middle of the cell. The manhole cover was dragged over the entrance to the pit, and it clicked shut. I could hardly move because of the heavy iron manacles I was now wearing, and when I tried standing up a bit I found that the manhole cover was just above my rubber hooded head.
I was told that my first day would start with my being fed via the feeding tube. This would eventually cause me to squat and go to the bathroom. After a second similar “meal” I would be showered and that would also clean the pit but leave me shivering in the cold. The basement temperature was certainly not conducive to rapid air-drying, and I could hardly sleep because of the involuntary shivering of my body. I tried to warm myself by getting my hands on my increasingly hard dick, but the wrist manacles prevented me from getting my hands anywhere near my throbbing organ.
Chapter 2 – I Learn Time Passes Slowly
During my first two days of force feedings (or was it three or four days? Since I really had no way to measure time, I guessed it to be two days), nothing changed. My body reacted to the punishment of the heavy manacles by becoming bruised. With every attempt to change my position, I found the restraints had been carefully designed to keep me in a stressed position most of the time. I was so horny, however, that each time I changed positions I tried to wank. The inability to touch my dick even with a fingertip or my thigh made my frustration grow all the more.
The pit was designed for its occupant to sit with his knees and butt against the walls. I could only get my feet flat on the floor if I bent my neck and placed my head against the manhole cover that locked me in the pit. I could not straighten my arms, so my biceps and triceps cramped in protest against my inability to flex them and to ease my aching muscles that resulted from the confined conditions in the pit.
I could feel my muscles cramping from the stress of being held in the confined space for the ever-lengthening hours. I tried to limit my movements, as I thought this caused the manacles on my body to pinch the skin and cause additional bruising under the restraints. I waited until the cramping was almost unbearable before changing to a new position in a vain attempt to relieve the stress and achieve a degree of comfort. But the short chains ensured that there were really no body positions that did not cause stress to some part of my body or bruise my skin.
It was all I could do to take small naps in the hole that had become my home. I was horny and wanted to pleasure myself, but the chains prevented my hands from making any contact with my constantly aroused organ. I found being awake both physically painful and mentally taxing, because I kept remembering that I had signed for a minimum thirty-day punishment. There was no any way that I could get myself out of the pit in my chained and shackled state. If my captors wanted to extend my time here, there was nothing to stop them.
I had completely lost track of time after about the third or fourth day. Each day was the same. Suddenly I would feel my liquid protein being poured down my nostril and my body would flinch in pain in protest to the abuse I could do nothing about. The abrupt nightly shower was the worst shock of all. I would shiver and try to get some sleep while thinking that perhaps I had signed away my rights forever and would never get free of this restraint testing punishment.
One night I thought I heard one of my keepers commenting to another that the blue pill they were feeding me was really working. At first I did not know what he was talking about, but then I remembered that someone told me that Viagra came in blue pills. My face felt flushed after every feeding, but I had thought that that was due to the tight rubber mask.
I found the rubber mask and gag very frustrating. I didn’t like the fact that I could see nothing and that the heavy mask made hearing very difficult if not impossible. The gag was so large that as I was being fed through my nostril I had an urgent need to get more air to my lungs. I was really claustrophobic and the mask was carefully designed to play on this fear every minute I was wearing it. After being fed with the liquid protein, I had to put my mind in neutral and breathe deeply for about fifteen minutes to get over this crushing fear
Chapter 3 – They Raise the Stakes
“Well the first test has not served much purpose,” I heard one of my jailers say somewhere above my pit.
“So let’s lift him out and try these,” I heard another voice say, accompanied by the sound of the rattle of steel and chains.
I heard the lock click above my head and the manhole cover over my small pit was removed.
“Stand-up, prisoner,” said a voice. “We have much more testing to do.”
Because of the hood and the gag in my mouth, I could not say anything, but I stood up slowly and found I could now stand up fully.
“Raise your arms in the air.”
I tried to do as ordered, but as the chains were hooked to my collar and waistband I could only raise them up as far as my nipples. I felt something being connected to my wrist cuffs. First my right wrist and then my left wrist were locked to some kind of rigid object. Finally the rod, (for that is what it was), was locked to a ring on my collar.
I was lifted out of the pit, carried across the cell floor and set down against some sort of rigid object. Immediately steel bands were fastened around my thighs. My arms were tied high and my legs were locked against some sort of concrete prison bed.
“We really need to get that pit cleaned up a bit. We have some equipment you get to test and we would not want it to get into that filth.”
I could hear them spraying down the pit with what smelled like some kind of strong soap. They took quite a while, and then I could hear them using another motorized pulley to drop something else into the pit. I knew that whatever they were doing could not be good for me. Then I heard the sound of a blow drier being used to dry the pit.
As soon as the drier was switched on, the guards their attention to me. I could hear them lifting and moving metal and chains. I knew thought that the shackles I was now wearing would soon be replaced with something else to be tested on me.
My wrists were grabbed and a much wider shackle was added to each one. They felt heavier, but I really could not tell as I still had my arms held high. I could not resist their adjustments to my punishment restraints. I tried to protest moan, but I could barely hear myself because of the heavy mask and gag in my mouth. I wished I had not volunteered for the month in these chains.
I really wondered what made me volunteer.
Chapter 4 – The Pit Was Now a Horror
The guards had swapped all of my gear for wider, heavier gear. This time each chain-to-chain restraint also had a connected bar. I could move my arms and legs a little but far less than I had been able to with the first manacles. I was wearing wide ankle shackles and a tight wide metal belt. Although I could not feel them with my fingers, I am sure every band or belt was an inch thick and close to three inches wide.
They forced me into a hunched over position where I had to squat on my knees and bend at the waist with my head and neck high. My claustrophobia returned when they replaced my gag with one that had a tube that extended about three inches down my throat. I was doing my studied deep breathing when I realized the guards were working on my cock and balls.
They placed a tight ring around my manhood and connected it to loops on the wide steel belt. They connected a flap of metal to the back of this ring and threaded it between my legs to the backside of my wide belt. It was shaped to ride deep in my ass furrow, exposing my rosebud. A curved metal tube was inserted up my urethra. I thought that they were going to insert it all the way to my bladder, but they stopped a little short.
After the tube was inserted and screwed in place to prevent it coming out, they covered my dick with a metal chastity tube. It was small and tight and I knew a hard-on would be impossible. I felt a metal covered rubber tube being screwed to the plug in my piss hole. I had a very bad feeling about this. They connected it to the rubber tube in my throat. The guards were very quiet about what they were doing, and this made it all the more ominous. The games they were now playing were more than simple chain gang control techniques. I was a volunteer who had made a very bad mistake!
It was time for me to be returned to the pit. I was lifted up by the halter of chains that were now in place and was slowly lowered into the hole.
“Wait, I need to position him on the slots,” one of the guards said as I was slowly being lowered. He grabbed my leg and rotated me about a quarter turn as my waist belt reached the top of the pit. There the belt connected with a pair of slots that a post on the belt locked into to make me continue down into the pit to a very specific spot. My neck shackles were rigidly attached to my wrist shackles, and my wrist shackles were rigidly attached to my belt waistband. Each ankle was attached to the waistband to force me to stand on my toes unable to relieve the tension in my calf muscles.
The manhole cover was pulled over the top of the pit and locked with a padlock. All of the time outside of the pit had really made me need to piss. They seemed to have doubled up on the liquids in my early feeding so my bladder was overflowing. Without thinking about the consequences, I let go of a huge stream of piss. It travelled up my new piss pipe into my piss gag.
I was overwhelmed with all the piss, but I was so full I could not stop pissing. I felt like I was drowning in all my piss and the gag kept it in my mouth so I had to recycle every drop. It took a long time to clear my bladder, but before I knew it was again full. I was recycling piss, and it tasted worse with every cycle.
Chapter 5 – The Test Enters a Rough Phase
Soon after the guards had left for the day I began to hear the hum of a motor. It sounded like it was geared down to move slowly but strongly. Although all of my senses were at attention I could not feel any assault on my body for about a half hour. Suddenly I knew what was going on. Something that they had lowered into the Pit while they were fitting my new chains was approaching my asshole.
The new steel between my ass cheeks was guiding something toward me. I could feel it pressing against that steel and the steady force lifted my total body more than three inches up. My feet were completely off the floor but that was only temporary. The motorized object was sliding up my ass crease toward my hole.
Suddenly I felt my whole body drop until my feet were on the floor and something was firmly up my asshole. It imbedded itself about six inches deep in my hole almost immediately. There was a massive new pain and I immediately tried to stand up to force the object out of my ass. It was hopeless, I could only raise myself about four inches with all of the new iron they had added to my restraints, and my ass was still impaled another four inches.
The motor continued to make its measured pace, each minute pushed the device a half inch further up my ass. Suddenly when the device was about eight inches deep in my ass it stopped. It was silent as the motor stopped leaving me deeply imbedded on the smooth feeling but fat device. The hours passed and I remained with my ass invaded with this most intrusive new device.
The guards came for my evening feeding but I could not get them to understand my perilous suffering in the new restraining gear they had prepared for me. It seemed as though my feedings were being increased in volume as I could feel my stomach fill near a stretching point with each new meal. The liquids did help me sweat more heavily under my mask. I was always hot during the period I envisioned as the day, and cold in the period after the automatic showers came on to wash my body and clean the Pit.
Although the protein feedings did not create much waste, I felt strongly that I needed to take a shit. The huge plug-like device in my ass prevented any possibility of that. My discomfort level was increasing with the constant increase in the amount of liquids and waste I was retaining or recycling.
Chapter 6 – The Jolt with No Satisfaction
Although there were no really comfortable positions any more, I found I could sleep until a muscle became massively stressed, or they came for a feeding. I had even found that I could stand the coldness after the shower, as the Viagra they were apparently feeding me kept my face so flushed it almost made my whole body hot.
I had again completely lost track of time, but I think I had been in my new irons for two or three days. As I slipped off to sleep with my perpetually hard dick locked in its chastity tube, I began to feel a new sensation in my midsection. I was really not sure what it was, but there seemed to be something tickling my prostrate. The tickling quickly became more powerful.
I remembered what one of my friends had said when he described a similar sensation. It was electro stimulation coming from the probe that was inserted deep in my ass. It felt like I was just about ready to cum, but it was a cliffhanger. The electric current would be intense one cycle, then almost imperceptible the next. I would be on the edge of a climax for what seemed like a half hour then I would almost forget the electrode up my ass was active.
While I don’t really know how long the infernal system kept me on the edge of cumming, but I began to get the taste of what I suspected was pre-cum in a little less than two hours. It was salty and slimy. Then I felt the undeniable taste of cum itself enter my mouth. I was being milked, but I was getting no satisfaction from the ejaculation I needed so badly.
My dick soon started a kind of dry pumping. It hurt a lot. The cum in my prostrate had been electronically milked for recycling, but all of my attempts to pump the last of it out to receive the pleasure of an ejaculation failed. I tried to get my hands to my chastity unit to help my now painful organ to receive satisfaction, but the chains and braces prevented even the slightest interaction with my hands and my dick.
I tried to suck the tube that was down my throat to artificially give myself a blow job, but the gag and the tube were perfectly designed to prevent that. My cheeks were so full of the gag that my mouth could not generate any pressure. When I tried to use my lungs I found all its pressure went to the one nostril they had established for my breathing.
I was hot and horny, but there was no way to remedy my predicament. I never considered when I volunteered that I would not be able to wank. In fact, in the back of my mind, I guess, that thought of my being able to masturbate while locked in chains had made me sign up for this at the Metalbond website in the first place.
Chapter 7 – The Recycling Reaches EPA Goals
I have lost all track of time. I can think of nothing but the mistake I made when I volunteered to be confined at the Long Term Locking Metal Restraint Testing Facility. Yet each day, my fighting against my bonds seems to strengthen my muscles. The protein mixture is keeping me healthy so that I can take the full measure of their punishments. Not a waking moment goes by without my wanting to ejaculate and rid myself of the continuously growing horniness.
I had decided that they would never allow my bowels to move again as the electrode equipped plug up my ass stayed in place and delivered what seemed like randomly timed sessions where I was painfully milked and stripped of my male honey without receiving the slightest pleasure from the act.
Today there has been a big change in the plug inside me. I hear a pumping sound and feel something like a balloon inside my rosebud being expanded to a huge size. A moment later there was a second balloon being expanded just outside my asshole. I don’t know what these are but I have learned that all other changes, it will be my body that suffers the consequences. I guess this is what, indeed, their punishment is designed to do.
“Open the pump well,” I heard one of my guards order as they approached my cell for one of my ever larger protein feedings. “And connect the exhaust hose to his feeding system.”
Soon my belly was full with the protein mixture and it was so tight at the wide steel belt that I cried out in my gag for them to stop. If they heard me they did not stop. I was fuller than I had ever been, and my bladder was loaded and I needed to recycle another load of my piss.
“We believe you are a shit packer,” the other guard yelled at me, “and we have prepared a gallon of saline solution that should help you with the problem.”
“Enjoy,” the other jailer said in a time that scared the shit out of me.
It was about an hour before I understood what the guards were talking about. As I awoke from a nap I suddenly became aware of a new feeling in my gut. It was just below my waist, and it started with a feeling of fullness. I tried to reposition my body to ease the increasingly painful sensation that was growing in my abdomen.
There were sudden cramps as I realized they were giving me an enema. I remembered the word “gallon.” I had never had an enema that big. I had of course used a shower enema before and maybe a quart of water when I was sick at home as a kid. The thought of a gallon enema was really frightening, but I am sure that they now have pumped that much up through my sealed ass plug.
Chapter 8 – The Final Act of Control
I heard the pump shut off, signaling, I assume, that the gallon had finally all been pumped into my ass. I could not see how fat my abdomen was with the saline water, but it felt like every possible inch of stretch in my body had been taken by this new punishment. As I waited for the water to ultimately be released, I realized that the bulk of my body that was not covered by the belt restraint must have been puffed full of water.
I was almost continuously recycling my piss. I could hardly get the large volume down my throat before my bladder was full and screaming for another release of piss to my mouth. I kept expecting the enema to be released as I had held it for what seemed like hours. I finally heard the guards returning for another feeding. I was having difficulty breathing, as my stomach was so full it was pressing against my lungs.
As the guards walked away from my feeding, I could hear them talking softly between themselves. While I could not make out what they were saying, I could certainly tell that each guard was making the other laugh loudly with each secret conversation. I knew they were talking about me, and it could not be good fortune that was coming my way. I had to wait several hours before I knew what they were talking about.
I heard no one come to my cell door, but suddenly there was a flow of water coming down my feeder tube and my hardly emptied stomach from the previous meal was being filled again. At first there was no explanation of what was happening but I started to have that frightening feeling that I was in an increasingly degrading punishment for the rest of my life.
Suddenly I realized that my enema-filled ass was being drained, and that gave me hope. That hope, however, was misdirected. Suddenly I realized the enema must be the source of my new stomach filling. Everything was being recycled. My piss and my food waste were both being recycled down my throat, where I could again process them!
My protein mixture was feeding my muscles as they fought to free myself from the heavy chains and manacles that held me almost motionless in my pit. I was getting stronger and that dissipated the protein into my muscle tissue. As soon as I felt my stomach was empty, the enema pump came on to again fill my ass and prepare the waste for recycling. My only hope was that they would free me at the end of my thirty days.
“We have some news for you,” the guard said on his next feeding run. “Your employer has just filed for bankruptcy. Apparently the firm is another casualty of the recession.”
He slid open the top manhole of my Pit and continued the conversation.
“Your month will be up tomorrow, do you want to be released or do you want to stay here where we feed you free daily?”
I tried to yell that I wanted out, but it just came out as a mumbled garble of indistinguishable sounds.
“Good, we thought you would want to stay, since you authorized that from the beginning,” the jailer said as he slid closed the Pit’s manhole cover and clicked the lock tight.
THE END
Red welcomes comments and requests for other specific types of stories. You may contact him at HardRedXXX@gmail.com — but don’t expect him to answer, as he is pretty much locked up in his Pit at the Long Term Locking Metal Restraint Testing Facility.