Naughty Boy's Correctional Facility

Timothy is sentenced to 4 years at the  facility for badly behaved 
boys.

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I stood in front of the court, chained hand and foot with my head 
bowed as the magistrate read out my sentence.

"Timothy Simpson, you have been found guilty of improper behaviour 
with a girl under the age of 14. You are hereby sentenced to 4 
years in a juvenile correctional facility. Take him away"

Four years. Four years. I would be nearly 17 by the time I got out.

I was led out to the holding cell. Once there the female guard 
produced a thick steel collar which she locked about my neck. I 
shuddered as the heavy object closed. The collar was about a 
quarter of an inch thick and an inch and a half deep. It was locked 
by some kind of hidden screw and had a thick two inch diameter ring 
dangling under my chin. Then my collar  was linked by several feet 
of heavy chain to the group of other 12 and 13 year old boys 
waiting for transport.

Nobody spoke much as we waited for the court sessions to end. Every 
few minutes another boy was unceremoniously attached to the end of 
the group. At about 3:30 one of the female guards unlocked the end 
of the chain and led us out to the waiting transport, a truck with 
a steel cage on the back. We were herded into the straw filled 
interior and both ends of the chain of prisoners had their collars 
attached to large steel eye bolts set in the floor.

Before we set off, the two female guards cut off our clothes with 
large dressmakers scissors. "You won't be needing these where 
you're going" we were told. We all looked totally embarrassed by 
our predicament. Naked and chained with no where to hide. "Its a 
long trip so you will have to wear full sanitary protection" 
snapped one of the guards as she produced a sack full of disposable 
nappies. 

One by one we were diapered and put into pale pink plastic pants 
with strong elastic at the legs and waist. I don't know what was 
worse, being naked or put in nappies. With the diapering complete 
we had our leg irons reattached and were given a large bottle of 
liquid each for the journey. We were warned of severe consequences 
if we attempted to tamper with the nappies.

The cage door was locked and the truck rumbled out of the court 
yard and onto the road to our ultimate destination and the fate we 
all dreaded.

With little to do and the heat making us thirsty we opened our 
bottles of drink. It tasted quite pleasant and was thirst quenching 
so got consumed fairly quickly. We talked nervously about what was 
in store for us. Gary, one of the boys chained next to me, said he 
had heard that the correctional facilities used all sorts of 
humiliating procedures to break the boys. Paul, on the other side 
said he had seen one of the inmates after release in his home town. 
The boy was 18 years old and had the body and voice of a girl. 

After about an hour we started to feel the urge to relieve 
ourselves of the liquid. Gary was the first to wet himself and then 
sat squirming as the wetness seeped around his nappy. I held on as 
long as I could but eventually was forced to wet. It was thoroughly 
humiliating to be sitting there unable to do anything about it. The 
plastic pants made the sensation even worse.

One of the boys who had managed to avoid wetting himself found our 
predicament amusing and accused us of being a load of babies unable 
to control ourselves. There was no way he was going to let go he 
declared. Well, Mark, soon had cause to regret his remarks as he 
found himself suddenly emptying his bowls uncontrollably into the 
waiting nappy. He looked extremely uncomfortable as he tried to 
find a position that avoided spreading the foul mess all over the 
inside of his nappies. 

Over the next hour we all had the same unpleasant experience of 
heavily soiling our nappies. There had obviously been something in 
the drink we had been given. We looked a pitiful sight, chained 
together with full nappies and the heavy steel collars around our 
necks. I think we realised that the next few years were going to be 
an experience we would never forget.

After several more hours the truck arrived at the detention 
facility. We were unlocked from the cage floor and led into the 
reception area. This was a large cage with several shower hoses. We 
then had our hands and feet unchained and were told to remove our 
nappies and put them in the bin and get clean with the showers. 

We towelled dry and were then split into groups of two and led one 
group at a time chained by the neck to the induction office. 

"You have forfeited your rights and will be treated as we think 
fit" said the governess. "Disobedience will result in humiliation 
and punishment. If you behave you will serve only your sentence. If 
you don't it, can be extended to double the time."

"Now, so that you can meet the other inmates and see what is in 
store for you,  you can have the pleasure of some time in the 
pillory,  take them away"

We were led though double barred doors into a corridor and finally 
into a cell block where there waited two pillories between the rows 
of locked cells. The pillories were only about 3 feet high. The 
guard unlocked my collar and forced me to kneel and place my neck 
and wrists into the solid wooden device. The top was hinged down 
and a heavy padlock secured it shut. I was helpless and unable to 
escape. She then secured my ankles to two leg irons at either side 
and gave my bare bottom a hefty thwack with her riding crop.

Turning her attention to Gary next to me she saw that he had become 
excited by the spectacle and was unable to hide his erection. It 
was not much to look at as we were all only just entering the early 
stages of puberty and devoid of pubic hair. Still it was at its 
full state of about 3.5 inches.

"I see your partner is enjoying this" said the guard. "Well, he can 
be the first to demonstrate what awaits you both" She ordered him 
to the front of my pillory. "Have you ever sucked another boys 
penis before?" she asked me. I shook my head and said no. "Then you 
had better get some practice. I don't want to hear any complaints 
of lack of enthusiasm and make sure that you don't bite anyone. Now 
get started on your friend" 

Gary moved forward and I took his erect little penis into my mouth. 
He thrust it in and out and I dutifully sucked, fearful of the 
consequences of disobeying. After a few minutes Gary let out a moan 
and a few small drops of semen squirted into my mouth. "Make sure 
you swallow that, I don't want any dribbling" ordered  the guard. I 
reluctantly obliged.

Gary was locked into the pillory next to me and the guard left us 
both there helpless. After about an hour the guard reappeared and 
started to unlock the cells. The boys were led over to our 
pillories. They were chained in a variety of ways, some of them 
were straitjacketed and some were clothed in dresses! We were 
ordered to start work on them as they were placed in front of us 
one at a time. Despite their different ages, none had any pubic 
hair and no one had a penis much bigger than 4 inches. All spoke in 
unbroken voices. 

Unlike Gary they all seemed fairly incapable of maintaining an 
erection and I only got a few of them to come, a fact which 
relieved me as I did not want to have to swallow them. After 4 
hours we were allowed out of the pillory and taken to another room. 

Here we had our collars put back on and we were chained to the 
wall. A nurse with a syringe then injected something into our upper 
thighs. She explained that it was an implant that switched off the 
testicles so that effectively we would be castrated for the next 4 
years. "You may have noticed the effects on the boys you just met" 
she said. "It will take about a week to work, so until then I have 
these for you". She produced two steel chastity belts. "They will 
prevent you from getting any satisfaction until the implant kicks 
in"  

She fastened the belt around my waist and pulled the crotch guard 
between my legs pushing my balls up into my abdomen. My penis 
protruded through a small hole. Another steel plate trapped my 
penis into a downward pointing small diameter tube in the crotch 
piece and fastened on top of the crotch guard. It looked as though 
I had no genitals. 

"You will find you can still urinate if you sit down" she said. "I 
suggest you try to avoid getting erect as the belts are designed to 
prevent all sexual satisfaction." Gary had his belt locked on in a 
similar fashion and we were released from the wall. "We have some 
special fetters for you as well" said the orderly. She then locked 
a medieval looking set of leg irons around my ankles. These led via 
a thick chain to a matching set of wrist irons which she locked 
about my wrists. She then fastened a chain between my wrists and my 
collar.

Gary received similar treatment, we were attached to each other by 
our collars and led out to the cells. There we were put into a cage 
about 6 feet by 6 feet and 5 feet high. It contained a rolled up 
mattress and bucket and the back wall had some large rings dangling 
from hoops set in the stone.  

The cage door slammed shut and we just stood there looking at each 
other. "I don't believe this" I said. "At least you got a blow job. 
I don't even get that and now I am going to be castrated" I tried 
to get my finger around or under the crotch plate. It was 
impossible. As my penis started to expand in expectation of being 
touched I got a painful sensation from under the locked plate. It 
abruptly terminated all sexual thoughts and I resumed my flaccid 
state cursing my luck. I vainly tried to force the belt over my 
hips but there was no way it was going to shift.

The boy in the cell next to us said there was no way out the belts. 

"They stay on until they have shut down your balls. Then when it is 
removed you can play with yourself as much as you like and nothing 
happens." 

He had been here for 2 years now. He was nearly 15 but still had 
the body of a 12 year old, hairless and with a small shrunken 
penis. He was a good looking boy with fair hair and blue eyes and a 
slightly feminine body. His steel collar was wider than mine and 
pushed his chin up slightly. 

Chris had four foot of chain attaching his collar to one of the 
rings in the back wall, so he was unable to reach the front of his 
cage. Although he had no leg irons he was wearing a metal waist 
belt with attached manacles. The belt was fastened behind him with 
a substantial padlock. His arms were crossed in front of him and 
fastened to the sides of the belt. Two thick leather straps looped 
between his legs from front to rear preventing upwards movement of 
the belt.

"Are you sure you can't get erect or anything" I asked. 

"I haven't managed anything for ages" he replied.

"Here, come over to the bars and I will see if I can't help" I said

He pressed his thighs to the bars and I stoked his small penis and 
put it in my mouth and sucked, but nothing happened, although I got 
a painful reminder from my belt not to enjoy myself.

I continued manipulating him but just as he had said nothing 
stirred. It came home to me that I was in the same situation and 
that this would be my fate.

The cell on the other side contained two boys, both naked like 
ourselves. Apparently one was 16 and the other 14 but although the 
16 year old was a bit taller they too had the same hairless bodies 
and pre pubertal genitalia. They were chained together not by their 
collars but their balls. A stainless steel ring had been fastened 
around their sacks. It was about a quarter of an inch thick and an 
inch diameter. A chain about 18 inches long led out between their 
buttocks joining them together. The younger of the boys was wearing 
a scolds bridle, apparently he had been rude to one of the guards. 
He also had a much shorter chain between his leg irons. It was only 
about 6 inches. This resulted in both of them suffering a lot when 
moving around the detention centre as he had difficulty keeping up 
with the older boy.

I asked them what their experiences with the implants had been. The 
younger, his name was Peter, mumbled something unintelligible 
through his bridle. A large dribble then came out of the bridles 
mouthpiece. The older boy, his name was James, had been brought to 
the centre when he was 12. Apparently he had had his first orgasm a 
few weeks before he arrived but since then had become completely 
incapable of even getting an erection. It was not for want of 
trying as both the boys would play with each other trying to get 
some action. 
The governess had decided that James would have to be feminised 
because of his constant fiddling. He now had oestrogen implants and 
at the end of the month would be getting surgery to remove his 
genitals. He was not looking forward to this at all.

After several hours our evening meal was brought in by some of the 
inmates. This was a sort of porridge with some pieces of food in 
it. It was slopped into dog bowls that were passed under the bars. 
I went to pick mine up and was reprimanded by the guard. We were 
not allowed to use our hands to eat. As a punishment I had my hands 
refastened behind by back. 

Eating off the floor was difficult and our faces were all covered 
in food by the time we were finished. Wet towels were handed 
through the bars for cleaning. I needed to relieve my self and went 
to the bucket. I remembered what the nurse had said about sitting 
and squatted over the bucket. Pee sprayed all over the inside and 
started to dribble down my legs. I grabbed some paper and wiped the 
outside of the chastity belt, but little bits of pee kept leaking 
out afterwards. 

Seeing this the guard fetched two  pairs of trainer pants and some 
plastic panties. She unlocked Gary and I and made us put on the 
pants and plastic panties. "You can still use the bucket but we 
don't want you dribbling pee all over the place" she said. 

Our leg irons were refastened and the cage door locked shut. Our 
plastic panties rustled as we moved around the cell. It did not 
take long for the pants to get warm and sticky and the thought of 
wearing them for the next week seemed impossible to bear. 

Just then we heard the sound of some voices and Gary rushed to the 
front of the cage dragging me over by the chain attached between 
our collars. The heavy barred gate at the entrance to the cell 
block opened and in walked a group of about 20 school girls 
escorted by the governess. They were on a school visit to the 
detention centre. The governess explained the various treatments 
meted out to us and allowed the girls to explore the block by 
themselves. 

We were absolutely embarrassed to be seen like this. Two of the 
girls came over to our cage and asked us why we needed to wear 
plastic panties. We were ordered to pull them down to reveal our 
firmly locked chastity belts. This attracted a larger group of 
girls and a lot of giggling. One of them asked the governess if she 
was sure we couldn't touch ourselves.

"See for yourself" she said. "You two, come over to the bars." We 
complied. "Right girls, take it in turns to feel around the belt 
and see if you can touch anything"  This was too much. One of the 
girls put her hand through the bars and tried to slide it under my 
crotch guard. I felt her hands probing under the belt but she found 
it impossible to touch my penis. I let out a gasp as the belt 
punished my attempt at an erection. Gary was having similar 
problems.

"Poor things" said one of the girls while sliding her hand between 
my legs up to the metal confines of the belt. "Will they have to 
wear them for long?"

"It depends" said the governess. "They have chemical castration 
implants, though these take a little time to do their work. We 
usually leave them on for a few weeks until they loose their 
ability to get erections. It's safer that way."

All but one of the girls turned their attention to the two boys in 
the cell next to us. They began asking about the scolds bridle and 
amused themselves by asking Peter questions and laughing as he 
tried to dribble answers through the restrictive metal mouthpiece. 
They demanded to examine the chain joining their balls and checked 
to see if it could be slipped off. To the two boys embarrassment 
and discomfort it remained firmly in place.

The remaining girl was still playing with my belt and grabbed on of 
my manacled hands and guided it between her legs to her pussy. This 
resulted in my neck being pulled down by the chain attaching it to 
the manacles. I maintained this position with some difficulty with 
Gary pulled close beside me as I massaged her pussy. 
 
We were distracted by this for several minutes and did not notice 
that we were being watched. "That's enough" barked the governess "I 
will deal with you later" she said to me. The girls were led back 
out through the barred gate and we heard their excited chattering 
fade into the distance.

With that we were ordered to unroll the mattresses and the lights 
were dimmed for the night. Sleeping was difficult with the sound of 
rattling chains and sobbing from some of the inmates. Several times 
I was wakened by my belt denying me any sexual satisfaction as I 
dreamed about the beautiful young girl I had met. 

The following morning we were let out of the cells and taken to the 
showers for cleaning. Breakfast was fed to us back in our cells. 
Again we ate from the floor. For Peter, meals were a welcome relief 
from his sentence in the scolds bridle. He looked quite different 
with it off, with a pretty face and light brown hair. He looked 
most upset when one of the guards appeared and locked it back on 
his head with the mouthpiece preventing intelligible talk. The 
bridle had a large padlock at the back of his head which clanked 
ominously a he moved about.
We remained in our cages for another hour after which it was 
punishment time. I was first on the list and removed from the cage. 
I would receive a category six punishment. This was about as bad as 
it got. It meant I would get 6 different regimes each of 
indeterminate time.

Regime 1 started today. I was to spend 8 hours a day for a month in 
the pillory. My collar was removed, together with my wrist and leg 
irons and I was let over to the waiting device. With my neck and 
wrists in place the heavy top half was swung down and locked. I 
struggled in vain. Then my ankles were fastened to the waiting leg 
irons and my imprisonment was complete. 

Looking from side to side I could see my hands and knees. I could 
not touch my face as the hand holes were too far from the centre of 
the pillory. I could also make out the heavy metal reinforcement of 
the wooden structure that held me fast. As I struggled to free 
myself the pillory creaked a little but did not move a fraction of 
an inch. I was totally trapped, about all I could do was to waggle 
my bottom and move my legs the few inches that the chain allowed.

Next came the humiliation of having to suck all of the inmates in 
the cell block once more. This seemed to be a special treat for 
many of them, in particular a tall blonde boy who I had not seen 
before. He was from a new intake and his implant had yet to do its 
work, so his 4 inch penis duly spurted into my mouth. Poor old Gary 
and some of the others looked on in envy while desperately pulling 
at their impregnable chastity belts.

After about an hour of burying my face in hairless crutches I was 
given a short break. It was during this time that I felt a  hand 
penetrate the waist of my plastic pants just above my tailbone. I 
grew rigid at this violation but  was trapped, locked helplessly in 
the pillory and unable  to prevent the intrusion.  Inch by inch, 
the hand made its way down the cleft of my buttocks, brushing the 
nappies now damp from perspiration, until it found my rosebud.  
After a little fumbling I felt the nimble fingers push something 
inside me.

They had done something to me but what? I tried to get comfortable 
in my forced kneeling position. I twisted my wrists and moved my 
head around. Then I felt a mild burning deep inside my bottom. I 
moved my legs and bottom to see if that would help but the burning 
just got worse

Suddenly a spasm shot through me.  Spasm after spasm then passed 
through my body.  I pulled at my restraints and moaned loudly. 
Being held immobile by the pillory tortured me to such an extent 
that I was forced to expel the contents of my bowels into my nappy. 
Wave after wave overcame me until there was nothing left to expel. 
I felt the sticky mess clinging to me trapped by my nappy and 
squirmed in revulsion.

Above me stood the governess with a smile on her face. "Made a 
little mess did we?" She asked. "I'm sorry, but we won't be able to 
get you cleaned up until you are out of the pillory and that won't 
be for a good while yet." She left and another group of inmates was 
produced for me to service. The last three were girls, or at least 
that is what they looked like. 

They had pastel coloured frocks on and looked quite cute. If it 
wasn't for the steel collars locked about their throats I would not 
have thought they belonged in here. The one in pink approached slid 
off a pair of frilly panties. She lifted up her short skirt and 
presented her crotch to my face. But there was nothing there. A 
small scar and lower down a little pee hole. I licked as best I 
could wondering if something would happen. It then dawned on me 
that these were not girls at all but neutered boys. I shuddered and 
prayed that I had not been sentenced to the same fate.

The 'girl' I was licking grew impatient with me and lifted her 
dress to reveal two small breasts which 'she' made me turn my 
attentions to. This obviously gave her a deal more pleasure than 
her crotch and she was soon panting with pleasure. But that was as 
far as it went for the governess appeared put the 'girls' panties 
over my head and sent everyone back to their cells.

I tried to shake the panties off, but they remained firmly planted 
with the crotch over my nose and smelling as though they hadn't 
been washed for several days. 

After what seemed like hours I was released from the pillory. My 
ankles were released and I stood up, stiff from my enforced 
position. The guard removed the panties from my head and produced a 
steel bridle like the one Peter had been wearing. The heavy metal 
device was placed over my head the mouthpiece swung into position 
and the padlock fastened at the back. The guard asked if I was 
comfortable and I mumbled a thank you and succeeded in dribbling 
out of the mouthpiece. 

I was marched to the shower room where I was made to remove my 
plastic panties and soiled nappy. The guard turned on the powerful 
jets and hosed down my backside. I was given a towel and told to 
dry and then marched off to another room.

This room contained a strap down table with leg spreaders and 
something resembling a small fridge with cables coming out of it.

I was strapped to the table and told my fate. The machine was the 
latest method for permanent hair removal. It used a powerful flash 
lamp tuned to destroy the hair follicles. It was able to cover 
large areas quickly and was 100% successful after only 3 treatments.

I wondered why they wanted to remove my hair as I had no noticeable 
body hair anyway and had not realised they intended to render my 
body incapable of growing hair in future.

After about 30 minutes I was turned over for my back parts to 
receive a similar treatment and then released from the table. The 
small hairs on my arms and legs now brushed off me leaving my body 
totally hairless. 

The governess then appeared and explained that the pillory regime 
was to be repeated every day for the next month. During the rest of 
the day and overnight I would have regime 2, the straitjacket and 
bridle. She held up the straitjacket, a formidable looking garment 
made of strong canvas with thick dark brown leather reinforcement 
and leather straps.  
The long sleeves hung to the floor and the straps from them twisted 
around.  There seemed to be straps and buckles hanging from every 
part of the jacket.

The governess held the jacket at the collar and ordered me to put 
my arms in.

Trembling, I pushed my hands into the sleeves. The canvas was thick 
and smelt of stale sweat from previous use. The other guard pulled 
the jacket from behind and my hands reached the ends of the sleeves 
but remained encased in the leather reinforced ends. 

I noticed the elbows were also reinforced in the same way.  A brown 
leather yoke went across the chest and a wide brown leather strip 
was riveted to the front leading down to the crotch.  

The guard started to strap the jacket  up at the back and I felt 
the jacket enclose  and imprison me tighter and tighter.  Next I 
was put in a heavy duty disposable nappy and plastic knickers. The 
top of the knickers was tucked up inside the jacket and then the 
wide leather strap hanging between my legs was pulled back over my 
plastic covered crotch.  As the strap was pulled through a 
corresponding buckle at the back I felt the jacket increase in 
tension in every part and the strap pressured the area between my 
legs.

They grabbed my arms and fed them through the hoops at the front 
and side of the jacket and pulled on the straps connecting the two 
sleeves behind me.

It was done, I was straitjacketed! I looked down at my crossed arms 
and pulled. I strained, tugged and wriggled, but my arms remained 
crossed.

"The way to get out of a straitjacket," said the governess  "is to 
work your arms up 
over your head or down over your hips.  You can forget that idea 
with this  jacket; the sleeves go through straps at  the front and 
on the side, which stop any up or down movement.  No-one has ever 
escaped from that jacket, and you won't either."

"One last thing, said the guard holding up a set of leg irons. We 
can't have you running off now can we" She fastened them about my 
ankles and gave the short chain a tug to make sure they were 
secure. 

I was led out of the room down a corridor to the cell block.  There 
set in the floor was a barred steel grate about 6 feet square. In 
the middle was a hinged opening which the guard duly lifted up. The 
walls and floor of the cell were padded!  "No, no, please!" I 
mumbled through the bridle "not in there!" 

I was lowered through the opening the 8 feet to the cell floor. 
With difficulty I rolled onto my back and looked up to see the 
smiling governess as she slammed shut and locked the  barred hatch.

I pulled at my arms desperately trying to get a little movement. If 
I tried lifting them all I succeeded in doing was to increase the 
pressure between my legs. I managed to get into a kneeling 
position, but this also did not help me to free my self from my 
enforced hug. So I attempted to stand. My first attempt ended 
abruptly as my right leg used up all the slack in the chain and I 
tripped over falling flat on my face, the bridles mouthpiece 
ramming itself into my mouth.

I lay there panting with the effort and tried once more, but 
whatever I did the leg irons managed to trip me up. So I got myself 
into a kneeling position and waddled over to the side of the cell. 
Once there I managed with great difficulty to lever myself up into 
a standing position and was startled to hear clapping from above. 
My efforts had been watched by an appreciative audience of other 
inmates. How I wished for the relative freedom they had up there. I 
noticed Peter was free from his bridle. 

"You'll get used to it after about a week" he said looking at me 
and pointing to his mouth.

"Great" I mumbled and dribbled. The boys were moved on and I stood 
there propped up against the padded wall wondering how I was going 
to manage a month of this. 

I moved to the other wall, but the wretched leg irons succeeded in 
tripping me up again and I went crashing to the floor. I wriggled 
to the wall and listening to the creaking of the leather straps and 
crackling of the plastic knickers I pushed my self into a sitting 
position.

I looked down at the jacket holding me.  Dirty white canvas and 
brown leather. Dark brown leather.  There was a  leather yoke 
riveted to the jacket in a semicircle under my chin.  

I looked at the wide strip of  leather with it's shiny rivets that 
went from  the yoke downwards.  It disappeared behind my strapped 
arms to the bottom of  the jacket to become the crotch strap.  And 
there were my arms, neatly folded,  nicely crossed in their strong 
leather reinforced canvas sleeves.  Reinforced at the elbows to 
stop me rubbing against anything  until a hole was worn, a hole 
that I couldn't make anyway on soft padded walls. 

I was naked under the jacket and it felt hard and unyielding on my 
skin. If I could only bring my arms forward, I could get the jacket 
off. I pulled.  Somewhere out of my sight below my elbows, the 
sleeves carried round, closed, riveted, reinforced sleeves that 
went tightly around my  waist to be strapped at the back along with 
all the other straps that I couldn't see.


I decided to get to my feet.  I pushed myself into the padded wall 
I was  leaning against and wriggled my way upwards until eventually 
I was in the  standing position. I tried  the rational and logical 
approach to extracting myself from the jacket.  I  shrugged my 
shoulders backwards and forwards to work slack into the sleeves,  I 
wriggled my arms upwards towards my shoulders.  I had moved them 
about  two inches up from my waist when the side straps stopped me 
getting any  further.  

I contorted myself to try the same thing downwards over my  hips 
but after a promising couple of inches I just met with resistance.  
I  tried bracing my elbow against the wall to get some leverage but 
my elbow just  sank in, indenting the padding like the buttons 
holding it in place.  I was beginning to get warm now.  I could 
feel the  bulk and plastic of the nappies between my legs and I 
kept sliding down the wall, as the  plastic did not grip the 
canvas.  My whole body was wet and perspiration  trickled down from 
my forehead, working its way through my eyebrows and into  my eyes 
causing them to sting.  I wiped my face on the padding, realising  
what the source of a lot of the other stains were. I sank to my  
knees.  

This place was starting to drive me mad, everything  rounded off, 
even the floor was like walking on a sponge, like trying to stand  
steady on a trampoline. I pushed my elbow against my knee; at least 
here  I could get a bit of solid leverage. I tipped over. I rolled 
over onto  my back.  In a straitjacket, a padded cell, 
straitjacket!  Straitjacket!  No  one has ever got out of that 
jacket and you won't either.  No one.  Ever!   I pulled at the 
sleeves with all my strength, I violently rolled over, I shook 
right and left, I wriggled, I kicked out with my legs, I pushed on 
my shoulders and pushed my legs up the wall, all the time trying to 
free my  arms, to get some movement into the sleeves so tightly 
strapped to my body. I screamed screams of frustration.  

With every contortion the crutch strap bit  into my plastic covered 
and padded crotch. The straitjacket  creaked as it was twisted this 
way and that, my knickers rustled as my legs rubbed against each 
other as they went into violent motion to offer support to the 
straining arms. I struggled.  I fought.  I wrestled.  I strained.  
I tugged and  pulled.  Finally, with a loud scream of anger and 
deep frustration, I fell  onto my imprisoned arms and let the sweat 
pour off me into the deep wells  where the padding was hammered to 
the floor.  

I was hot and exhausted.  If only I could wipe my face on my 
sleeve, run my fingers through my matted hair.  If only I could 
move my fingers a little in their thick, unyielding sleeves.
"Help me, someone" I mumbled aloud through the bridles restrictive 
mouthpiece. I felt the need for a pee. I tied holding on but nature 
took its course and I flooded the inside of my nappy adding further 
to my discomfort and sense of helplessness. The steamy liquid 
worked its way around my bottom. I cried myself to sleep.

Some sound woke me up.  I tried to focus my eyes on the padded 
floor an inch  or so from my face.  I felt clammy, damp and cold.  
Where was I?  A split second later as I tried to get up it all came 
back to me and I realised that I was still very much a prisoner.  
With effort and with a lot of digging my feet into the canvas, I 
managed to roll over.

"Enjoy yourself last night did you" asked one of the guards 
standing over me on the barred ceiling of my cell. I mumbled an 
unintelligible reply. 

"We had better get you out of there and ready for your next 
session". She unlocked the heavy hatch and lowered some steps. My 
leg irons were unlocked and I was helped up the steps to the main 
cell block. There they unlocked my bridle and gave me a dog bowl of 
breakfast and a large bottle of liquid.

After breakfast I had my punishment jacket removed and was left 
chained to a post for a short while before being led back to the 
dreaded pillory to greet the new intake and spend hours being held 
rigidly immobile. It was during my confinement that I had the first 
hot flush of many that were to follow. I reported this to one of 
the guards who promptly gave a big smile and informed me that the 
castration implant was obviously doing its job.

The rest of the month took ages to pass. I was kept almost 
continuously in either the pillory  or the straitjacket and bridle. 
During this time I was never out of nappies and I began to use them 
without thinking. I had developed a rash, but liberal amounts of 
cream had been applied and this soon cleared.

The other thing I noticed was that after about a week I no longer 
got painful reminders from my chastity belt. I was concerned enough 
to try to force an erection and the subsequent reminder but was 
unsuccessful. After 2 weeks the nurse took a blood sample from me 
and I then had my chastity belt removed. 

The relief of having this infernal contraption removed was immense. 
I looked down at my shrunken penis and was shocked to see that my 
balls had disappeared. They had been forced into my abdomen for so 
long that they did not come down and I looked for all the world as 
though I had been physically castrated. 

I was washed thoroughly and then tested for sexual activity. Gary 
and Peter were brought into the room. Gary was still in his belt. 
Gary was ordered to suck me, which he did with enthusiasm, but 
although it was pleasurable, I managed only a fleeting half hearted 
erection which quickly subsided.

Peter  gave me  a hand job with similar results, so it looked as 
though I would not have to wear the belt anymore. I did not know 
whether to be happy or sad at this outcome. I was chained to the 
wall while Peter & Gary were led away and while alone I tried 
desperately to stimulate my flaccid penis. I did about as much good 
as Peter had.

While waiting attached to the wall without thinking I peed. As I 
had no nappy this had predictable results and a large puddle at my 
feet was evidence of my lack of control. I was surprised when the 
nurse did not severely admonish me. She explained that since I had 
trouble controlling myself nappies were probably the best solution.

During my final days in the straitjacket I tried desperately to get 
some stimulation into my penis from the crotch strap but the nappy 
made an effective barrier to stimulation and although I did manage 
one or two fleeting erections, orgasms seemed impossible despite 
all my contortions.

At long last I was free from my first two punishments and I made 
sure to thank the governess for removing my bridle and jacket for 
the last time. 

I was not free from encumbrances for long. I soon had the standard 
issue set of irons on me, the steel collar attached to the manacles 
and leg irons. This was nothing like a bad as the strait jacket as  
I could move fairly freely, but the chains and irons were very 
heavy and quite tiring to have to lug around all the time. 

Before I had my leg irons attached I was given a small jock strap. 
I had never worn one before, and was unsure what to do with it. I 
was helped into it and pulled it up to my waist. It was very small 
and had no pouch as such, just a strong flat piece of material at 
the front and two tight elastic straps going between my legs. The 
front could not have been more than about two inches wide at the 
point were it attached to the waistband, so it really did not 
conceal very much. In fact I felt more self conscious wearing it 
than not as it drew attention to my backside and lack of very much 
at the front. The front was drawn so tight by the straps that my 
non functioning balls disappeared inside my body once more. 

"This is a privilege. The last boy to wear it lost the right after 
misbehaving. If you make sure you don't wet yourself and behave 
correctly you can continue to wear it"  I was told.  So no more 
chastity belt, no more nappies. Things were looking good.

I was led back to the cells and placed in the one next to Gary with 
Chris. Chris was now out of his metal waist belt and wore a similar 
set of irons to myself, but he still had only the four feet of 
chain linking him to the back wall of the cage. My collar was 
attached to a similar piece of chain and the cage door locked.

Gary was looking upset. Apparently he had at least another week to 
do in his chastity belt. He offered to suck me and I moved over to 
the cage side but my chain kept me a few inches short so he had to 
go without. Chris had declined his offer, but seemed keen to offer 
his services to me instead. He went down on his knees slid the 
front of my jock strap to the side and started to caress my penis. 
He began sucking it gently in his mouth. Now I realised what the 
other boys were getting from me in the pillory. The feeling was 
wonderful and my little penis even started to grow slightly before 
collapsing again. He continued for what seemed like ages and my 
penis tried valiantly to respond but eventually shrivelled back 
into my body. I hid it back behind my jock strap.

I thanked Chris for his attentions. "Its the least I could do" he 
said "Do you realise you have done the same to me and the other 
boys over 30 times while you were locked into that pillory" I said 
I had not and that it was difficult to keep looking up when locked 
in that infernal contraption. I had just concentrated on the bits 
thrust in front of my face.

Two cages away, Peter was now on his own. James was in the medical 
centre being emasculated. Peter had been freed from the steel ring 
encircling his balls, but worryingly for him was now forced into 
wearing a pink and white frock and a panty girdle. He actually 
looked quite cute, a fact that did not go down too well with him.

Although he was obviously concerned at the dress, one of the 
immediate advantages was that 'dress status' meant lighter more 
feminine restraints. So his leg irons were now regular Hiatt 19th 
century type attached to his handcuffs with a lighter chain. His 
collar was also thinner and less heavy though it did have a round 
bell attached which took very little movement to make it start 
ringing.


The next day I was handed part 3 of my punishment. Peter & James' 
ball chain was produced and I learned I was to be chained to Chris 
for 8 weeks. Chris had been involved in some minor infraction, so 
they were able to punish us both at the same time.

I was made to spread my legs and the small metal ring was hinged 
open. Expertly, the guard encircled my sac with the ring above my 
balls. She pushed it together and locked it shut with a large pair 
of tongs that took some effort to close.

She checked the ring closely for fastness and gave it a firm pull. 
This caused me quite a lot of pain as my balls were stretched away 
from my body. 

Now the attached chain with the other ring was passed out backwards 
between my legs. Chris was ordered to press his bottom up to mine 
and the chain was passed through his legs to his front and likewise 
attached to his balls.

The chain was tugged again and we both let out a yelp. It looked as 
though we would be inseparable!

The jock strap was now too painful to use as it squashed my balls 
tightly against the ring. I couldn't remove it as my leg irons were 
in the way, so I pulled it to one side.

I examined the ring carefully. It was just possible to make out the 
mating surfaces where it hinged and met together. The fit was 
perfect. It was stainless steel roughly two fifths of an inch thick 
and small enough in circumference to make removal impossible 
without opening it first. I was unable to see any obvious key hole 
and how it unlocked was a mystery. Clearly if puberty had been 
allowed to take its natural course the ring would have eventually 
cut off all blood supply to my balls. 
 
 The twisted link stainless chain attached to a rotating eye in its 
side and was clearly very strong indeed. In the centre of the chain 
was a small ring which could presumably be used for attaching other 
items.

Chris was long legged and about 6 inches taller than me so the 
attaching chain was worse for me as it got pulled up my crack at 
full stretch. Despite our care to avoid this it happened all too 
frequently as the chain was only about 12 inches long.

Another result was that we could no longer give each other a blow 
job as the chain was just too short. We tried, but it was too 
painful. We looked wistfully at each others shrunken dicks but it 
was not to be.

The only blow jobs we got were from the regular intake of new 
inmates locked into the pillories. It was pleasant to be on the 
receiving end for a change, though I did feel sorry for some of the 
more timid boys  put through this punishment. You would see them 
writhing, trying to free themselves from the unyielding pillories 
and the pitiful look in their eyes as they were faced with their 
task.

Using the bucket was also awkward with one of us having to sit on 
the floor while the other went about his business. 

Sleeping was often painful. Many times, one of us would roll beyond 
the allowable distance set by the chain giving us both a painful 
wake up call as our balls got pulled.

When moving around the compound to do our chores we would hold 
hands to lessen the chance of hurting ourselves.

During the morning and early afternoon we had to attend school 
lessons. These were really no different to a normal schools except 
of course for our predicament. 

Bad work or misbehaviour in class was unwise as each school room 
had a selection of unpleasant devices for punishment purposes.

Our desks sat two a piece. They were of strong wooden construction 
and each had two adjustable hinged steel belts attached by 4 inches 
of chain to the back. We were locked into these for our lessons.

On the desk top were 4 wrist irons spaced two feet apart and with a 
9 inch chain fixing them to the desk. We were released from our 
manacles and put into these for lessons.

Our classroom had two standing pillories and a very unpleasant set 
of horizontal stocks. This consisted of two holes about 18 inches 
apart into which the standing victim's ankles were locked and 
another set in front of them for the wrists. An adjustable height 
horizontal bar about 4 inches round was set between them. The 
victim was then bent over the bar and had his wrists secured.

The riding crop was then used to administer six whacks on the boys 
backside which was of course totally exposed. The pain and 
humiliation had the poor unfortunate begging for mercy in no time, 
but they were usually left with their bottoms jutting into the air 
for a good while before being released.

After lessons we had exercise. This was taken on a treadmill or one 
of the horizontal wheels and usually lasted for an hour.

During the rest of the day we had cleaning duties to do and were 
then locked in our cages, typically from 4pm until the following 
morning.

After a few weeks Chris and I grew used to our continually enforced 
closeness. Sometimes we would deliberately give a pull on our chain 
to surprise the other. We did not so much enjoy the punishment, we 
just accepted it as part of our daily routine. As the 8 week 
sentence drew to a close I became apprehensive about the next 
punishment. There seemed to be no shortage of things they could do 
to us.

We had our metal rings removed by similar tongs to those that had 
sealed them. I felt my freed balls. There was a red mark on my sac 
where the ring had rested, but otherwise things seemed OK. 

I was led out alone to my fourth punishment. This I learnt was to 
be daily confinement in small cages for two weeks. There were a 
variety of such cages. They had inch thick bars spaced two and a 
half inches apart passing through horizontal half inch thick flat 
sections every  8 inches.

The first one I was put in was 3ft by 3 ft by 4 ft long. It had a 
steel floor with a thinly padded vinyl covering. The entry was a 
small vertically sliding section I had to crawl through on my hands 
and knees. The entrance was lowered and secured with two heavy duty 
padlocks.

I looked around my new home. I could sit but not stand. Movement 
was on hands and knees. I could lie with my knees bent. The cage 
was very robust and because of the close spacing of the bars I 
could only put one hand or foot  a short way through before the 
chain link to the other brought it up short.

I was forced into nappies again for my stay in the cages. This 
humiliation seemed to be one of the correction facilities 
favourites. 

The cage was set in the centre of one of the corridors so I got 
plenty of visitors. Occasionally I would be asked by one of the 
boys for a blow job. One of the rules of the cage was that I had to 
oblige if asked, so I would press my face up to the bars and do my 
best, occasionally being rewarded with a few drops.

One regular visitor used to lie on top of my cage while I worked 
him from below. He said he enjoyed seeing me locked in my small 
prison and thought I thoroughly deserved to be in there. He took 
particular delight when I had a full nappy and used to put his 
hands through the bars and press it into my bottom.

I was glad when the two weeks was up. Some of the cages had been 
very cramped, one was even suspended from the ceiling at about 4 
feet off the ground.

I was not so happy to discover that my next punishment was to be 
forced into girls clothes. The thing that worried me was that there 
was no time limit set. 

My frock was held up in front of me. It had short puffed up sleeves 
and a low lace neck. The skirt was short and billowed out. It was 
pink like Peter's with white lace trim.

I was unchained and presented with a firm white satin panty girdle 
with a little lace bow on the front. I pulled it up with difficulty 
as it was quite tight. The guard reached up behind my legs and 
pulled my little penis back between my legs. The girdle went up 
over my hips. It constricted my stomach and waist quite severely 
accentuating my bottom. My genitals disappeared from view leaving 
only a slight feminine mound.

Then I was presented with a little trainer bra with a small bit of 
padding. The guard helped me on with it fastening it at the back. 
It was very strange wearing a bra for the first time. I looked down 
at the small pretend breasts and prayed that I would never need to 
wear one for real.

My frock was put over my head and zipped up at the back. The skirt 
only just covered my bottom. I was given some white socks and pink 
shoes to put on and the guard fastened a bow to my hair and tied a 
sash about my middle with a large bow at the back.

"You will need to be more dainty in these clothes so we are 
restricting your ankle chain" said the guard. I was then locked in 
leg irons similar  to Peter's. These permitted only 10 inch steps. 

My collar was fitted with a bell and a name tag - Mary. From now on 
I was to be called Mary.

I was led back to my cell past the rows of other cages where the 
boys whistled and stared. I blushed and stared at the floor as I 
minced along in shot hobbled steps, my bell summoning all to come 
and stare.

Chris waited chained to the back wall as usual. 
"Wow, you look amazing" he said, eyeing me up at down.

"Lift your skirt and lets take a look at your panties" he sniggered.

"Oh my God!" He exclaimed. "Did they remove your penis and balls?"

"No" I replied. "And they are not panties. Its a panty girdle and 
its extremely tight"

"You poor love" he said with mock concern. I went and sat next to 
him. "They gave me your old jock strap" he said, indicating the 
somewhat stained piece of minimal clothing around his waist.

"Come to think of it where are your penis and balls?" I asked 
pointing at the smooth crotch. 

"It does rather compress everything, doesn't it? he replied.

I pulled his jock strap side ways and coaxed his little penis out. 

I gently massaged it as he put his hand up my skirt and rubbed 
between my legs. 

My life continued in girls clothes. I was put in a different dress 
every few days. They were all terribly pretty. 

Because I was a "girl" I was allowed to eat at a  table with a 
spoon. I was not allowed to stand at the toilet anymore though 
as "girls don't do that". My penis had to always be pointing 
downwards and I was subject to occasional checks.

I was in demand for giving blow jobs. My status now meant I could 
not refuse to give one to anyone who asked. Unfortunately, I was 
not allowed to receive any though.

After about a year I was reminded I still had a punishment left. I 
had forgotten all about this. Since I looked so pretty as a "girl" 
and was popular with the boys the governess had decided I should 
become one, or more strictly cease to be a boy. 

I shuddered at the news. I had seen what had happened to the other 
eunuchs and had dreaded this happening to me. 

I was taken down to the medical ward and prepared for surgery.

Strapped to the operating table with my legs spread wide and held 
up high I was told to take a final look at my "boyhood". Then I was 
injected and within a few seconds was out cold.

I came around slowly in the ward. I was unable to move, strapped 
down with thick leather straps. It took a while for me to remember 
what I was doing there. Then it clicked. I looked down but was 
unable to see anything under the blankets covering me.

I felt a dull ache in my crotch and realised they must have cut me. 
I sobbed as I pondered my life after release, not as a man albeit a 
very late developing one but as a girl.

My first look at my new sexless crotch came as a shock, even though 
I knew what to expect. It was now completely smooth. I had a small 
pee hole in front of my anus and that was it. There were not even 
any stitches as I had been expertly glued together. As the area 
healed over the next few days and the swelling and redness 
diminished I began to look as though I had been born that way.

Once  the soreness had gone I tentatively felt myself. There was no 
pleasure to be had from this, just the confirmation that I was 
indeed a sexless eunuch. 

I had been sitting to use the toilet for many months but after my 
catheter was removed I had my first experience of peeing without a 
penis. I quickly discovered that I had to lean forward and keep my 
legs spread to avoid covering my legs and bottom with urine. Wiping 
would be a must from now on.

I learned that my penis had been totally removed from the root 
inside my body, so that I would no longer feel any last vestige of 
it. But there was one final surprise left in store for me.

"You were only just at the very start of puberty when you arrived 
at the institute" said the doctor "Obviously with the implants 
you haven't progressed any further and now that you have been 
gelded you would not normally develop further. So that you can get 
some experience of  puberty we thought we would put you on 
testosterone for a few months. You needn't worry, we won't let you 
develop too far and loose that beautiful voice of yours, but it 
would be a shame if you didn't experience the full force of a 
teenage sex drive."

To be honest I did not understand what she was going on about. 
Anyway they then removed my implant and inserted another one with 
the testosterone. I was then dressed in my frock and given some 
frilly panties, chained and led back to the cages in the cell block.

I was locked in with Chris again. He could not wait to get a look 
at my new crotch. "They really did it to you didn't they?" said 
Chris. "Well, there won't be any more blow jobs for you" 

I put my hand between his legs and tried to imagine that what I was 
feeling was mine.  

After a few days I began experiencing the new hell that I was being 
subjected to by the testosterone. I became very sexually aware and 
desperate to play with my non-existent penis to get some relief. I 
got more and more sexually frustrated, to the point where I could 
think of very little else. I would lie on the mattress, thrusting 
my hips up and down and grinding my crutch into it in my 
frustration. I rubbed my crotch with my hand but again it did 
nothing for me except to make matters worse.

In my dreams I would imagine my self whole once more and taking 
delight in my sexual adventures. One night, several months after my 
operation  I had a wet dream. I woke up to feel a sticky mess 
dribbling out of my hole into my panties. I felt some relief at 
last from the months of torture, but short changed in  that I had 
had none of the pleasure that I could remember from my first 
experiences before I was sentenced.

The torture continued for another six months. It was then that my 
testosterone implant was exhausted and the supply to my body 
stopped. I was once more sexless, though by now I preferred it this 
way.  

The female hormone therapy was started on me. My breasts started to 
grow and felt tender. My hips filled out a bit and I acquired a 
fuller bottom. By the time I was released from the institute, I 
had, dare I say it,  become quite a pretty girl. 

I now live with Chris. Chris seems to have had permanent damage 
done to his testicles as even now he still can't get more than a 
very fleeting erection. His penis grew very slightly to about 4 
inches during one of his rare stiff moments, but has not progressed 
since. His voice is still unbroken.

Occasionally we see the cage trucks driving to the institute with a 
new intake of chained boys for the reformatory.