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.
Metal would like to thank Red for contributing this story.
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.