I started Punishment Farm mostly by accident. One day I picked up a hitch-hiker near our local prison. As it turned out the guy had just been released after a long stretch. He had no family, no connections, and no prospects. Since he had served the entire sentence, there was no parole. In short, he had no idea how to live outside prison and he was scared shit-less.

Then, on a whim, I made a proposition. I told him that he could work for me on my farm. The hitch was that he would serve as a prisoner, in shackles, highly supervised, and without rights. To my amazement he agreed, as he had no place to go but the streets.

When I got him home, I put him in cuffs and locked him to the truck door handle. Then I rearranged a cement block storeroom into a cell, with a cot, shit bucket, and water bucket. I added extra restraint hooks on the walls. What I had forgotten to tell him was that highly supervised meant hard labor, harsh discipline, and extreme punishment. My cell was just next to my dungeon, where he would spend many hours earning his keep. No matter, he would learn soon enough.

Going back out to the truck, I re-cuffed him with hands behind his back and led him to his cell. Once inside, I left him cuffed, hooded him in an isolation hood, and secured him to the wall where he could neither stand nor lie down. Leaving him there for the night would allow him time to realize the consequences of accepting my hospitality.

The next morning, I finished breakfast in a hurry and got ready to open my new package. When I got to the cell, he was yelling quite a bit. I backhanded him hard across the mouth and gagged him. There was no use letting him get bad habits. Then I led him into the dungeon for inspection. Once inside, I turned on the spotlights and focused them on my new slave, although he did not realize his full position yet. I stretched him out standing spread-eagle in the middle of the room, where there was a drain directly under him.

Then I removed the hood, thus blinding him with the lights. Seeing there being no business of his to know anything about his surroundings yet, I quickly ran a set of clippers over him to give him a 1/4 inch cut from the neck up. Then I rinsed his face and reapplied a tight leather hood and locked it in place. I was pleased to realize that his jet black hair and course beard looked like they would grow quickly. As I replaced the hood, I noted to keep it on for a week or so before removing it. As the hair grew back, it would itch and make him more ready to understand. I decided right then and there that his boy would be kept hooded at all times, except for cleaning and shaving..

Now it was time for the main inspection. As I began to cut away the loose sweatshirt he was wearing, he started to mumble through the gag. I decided to nip this in the bud. I again backhanded him hard across the face and told him: “Your speaking role in life is over. You will never speak unless spoken to and will confine your speech to a direct answer to the question. Failure o do so, will result in punishment and you will soon learn that is not what you want.”

My first inkling that he was a good choice as a slave came when he nodded his understanding with not as much as a grunt. This was a sign that we were on the right track. As the sweatshirt fell to the ground, it revealed a well muscled man in his mid to late 20s. He was enormously hairy, with dark black matting from his neck down back and front. He had very muscular hairy harms, making me think he was of eastern European decent. As I moved on to the gym pants, their removal revealed a firm hairy buttock area, thick hairy well muscled legs. Moving around to the front, I discovered a large uncut 9+ inch cock nestled in a thick thatch of black hair. His balls were quite large and low hanging. They would bring me hours of pleasure and him hours of pain. When and if I ever removed them, he would beg for them to be released. Having revealed the slave in his entire splendor, I turned the spotlights off and settled back into my chair to enjoy the sight.

He was squirming now, trying to get out of the restraints. That an impossibility. I stayed for quite a while and then slipped out without making a sound. I did not want him to think I had gone. Besides, I would watch him on closed circuit TV from any room in the house. It is somehow reassuring to know that you have a slave waiting patiently for you in the dungeon.

Returning to the dungeon several hours later, I decided to begin the arduous task of preparation. I hosed him down and lathered his body thoroughly. I then administered a high, hot, hell of a lot enema and plugged his ass. It was as tight as it could be. He squealed as I put in my smallest plug, the only one that would fit. He squirmed from time to time as the soapy fluid did its duty. While he held it, and long he would, I began the chore of removing his hair suit. Several hours, two bags of disposable razors, and many cans of shaving cream later, the boy was finished. To my amazement, he was even more muscular, more cut, and more ready for use than I thought. He looked like Prometheus bound in my dungeon, ready to bring me pleasure.

Finally, I decided to start his training. I got right up to his hood and told him: “When I remove this plug, I expect you to hold it without a drop coming out. You will release when and only when I order you to do so. Do you understand?”

Again, the nod of obedience appeared. He had remembered not to try to speak. Things were going well. After about 10 minutes of agony to enforce my words I let him shit it all out. He also pissed up a storm. I filled his ass again with two quick rinses. Even then, he waited each time for the order to release his load. After he had loosed his last filling, I re-plugged him with a little larger plug. There was no time like the present to make this real. Then I hosed him off and left the room with a sharp slam of the door. I wanted him alone and in anticipation.

Two hours later, I returned to find him purring in pain from the long restraint. His lands had gone spastic from the painful over head position. It was time for a change. It was also time for his first beating. I quickly took him down and, without giving him time to recover, placed him face down on the rack. I left him there fairly loose but firm enough to be secure and sat down for some serious thought about his first discipline session.

Thinking it over, I decided that the first discipline session would be harsh enough to mean business, but no so harsh as to remove all hope of survival. I tightened the boy up just enough on the rack so that he could not move. I then took three alligator clips, relatively small ones, and attached one to each nipple and one to his piss slit. His nipples were for now a bit small, but quite firm and serviceable. He drew in a deep breath as each clamp was placed. His uncut cock was very sensitive and he let out a grunt as I released the clamp slowly down. I reminded him that sound of pain, or even pleasure, were acceptable; but should he try to talk this would become punishment. “We wouldn’t want that I said.” The point had been made and the nods reflected it. Then I secured his clamps to rings in the floor and stretched him just enough that it hurt only a little if he did not move. Of course, he would move’ but that was on him. Finally I secured his balls to a ring in the floor and stretched them out to a good length.

Now it was time to begin. I took down from the wall a good sized blood-wood paddle. I laid it against his upturned ass and said. “These tools of discipline will become your friends. You will get to know them all intimately and be trained to take them as it pleases me. Reject your friends and you will be punished. Accept them and you will learn.”

As he nodded his agreement, I sent a hard whack across his ass. Then I slowly and methodically worked my way up and down his ass. First I heated it up, then I reddened it, then it glowed. He took it pretty well with minimal thrashing. I know the tit, cock, and ball restraints would do their jobs. Then I repeated the process on his massive muscular thighs.

After a thorough introduction to the paddle, I took down the tawse. I caressed the slave from his shoulders to his ankles. As I did I taught him about the special feel of a strap on a man. I enforced that a convict such as he would need many hours with the strap. He began to whimper as I laid the first stroke against his back. I slowly but surely worked my way up and down his back. Then I spent a good deal of time on his already well tuned ass. Then I worked my way down the backs of his thighs and over his claves. As the beating went on, he began moving more than before. There was a slight trickle of blood from his tits. He was learning. A good slave must know that rejection of his Master’s pain on any level will only increase his torment. It never stops them, but they must know.

I decided to finish up with a slow workout with a thin cane. After a proper introduction to its caress, I gradually increased the strokes. By the time I was done he had a nice set of stripped welts, evenly spaced, form his neck to his ankles. If I say so myself, it was a job well done. By the end he was screaming noises in agony. There was a trickle of blood from his tits and a slight dripping from his cock. He had completed lesson one.

After a long pause for the boy to find himself in his new world, I released him and placed him back in his cell. I placed a steal collar on his neck and secured his wrists to it. Ironically, his cock had become tumescent during discipline and had remained so even now. Tomorrow we will address the disciplinary needs of the young male cock.

On the boy’s second full day in service, I decided to get the slave’s cock issue under control. I started by placing his member in a “Curve” chastity device. When the vet arrived, I had already placed the boy face up, legs spread fully, on the rack, tight enough not to move. The boy had been thoroughly cleaned and disinfected in the appropriate areas.

The doc rolled up his sleeves and put on surgical gloves. I loved seeing the skilled hairy arms of this older man at work. He never discussed pain relief or sedation. He knew I did not want it; he had never used it on livestock anyway. First the doc installed two large bore rings in the slave nipples. Since they were a little small for such large rings, there was a lot of screaming. No one seemed to mind. Doc had a slight look of pleasure on his face as he began the second piercing. This was followed up by a navel piercing that apparently hurt little by comparison. The doc placed a small heavy ring just under the base of its balls. I took a sterile glove and gently touched his nipple rings to remind him of his position. The affect was gratifying. I thanked the doc and assured him that post piercing care would be given.

Then it occurred to me. The boy had not been disciplined for today. I had meant to do it before the doc got there. I decided that this would not do. I left the boy on the rack and catheterized him. Then I took out my thinnest cane. To the boy’s horror, I caressed his well spread thighs very slowly. The rest was inevitable.

I made measured severe cuts up and down each thigh across the top. Then changing the angle, I placed a second set along the boy’s outer thighs. By the time it was done, he was screaming for dear life. Finally I placed a third set along the tender inner thighs. Each stroke woke up a new level of pain and fear in the boy. As I neared the nut sack each nut receded as if trying to avoid the cane. This gave me a place for one last stroke on each thigh before I finally put the instrument down.

Having the boy’s best interest at heart, I quickly checked the piercing sights for signs of blood and walked out of the room with a slam of the door. Tomorrow would be another day.

Next day, I decided to begin the exploration of the boy’s ass. I bent the boy over a work table with his legs well spread. The boy face down was only moderately painful for his new tit- piercing sights, as if I cared. His hole was there waiting for the first intrusion of something larger than the enema nozzle. He had adjusted more or less to his daily full clean out. Otherwise the hole was in need of some serious work.

It was just then I realized that I was not keeping up with his discipline whippings. A fault I would have to correct. I chose a midsized paddle from the rack and palpated his ass with it. Then without warning, I gave him ten of the hardest strokes I could muster. And pleasure to my ears, he was screaming like a banshee. I worked my slowly and deliberately over his ass and upper thighs. I made each stroke count. Soon he was singing to me his song of pain and it was good.

I then moved to a large strap to replace the deep muscle work with a sting. I stated just under his neck and worked my way down his back and over his ass. Then I thoroughly whipped the back of his thighs. I was careful to allow the strap to wrap around the outside and inside of the thighs to recover the ground we had done yesterday. The boy went wild with pain and fear.

I decided that it was time to start working the asshole. I lubed it well. The boy was thankful for a moment away from pain. I worked the hole to open it as much as it would go with my fingers. When it was clear that he was stretched to the limit, I found a plug that was just a little larger. Then I rammed it up there as hard and fast as I could. The boy was stretched to the limit with a plug in place. It was time to resume the discipline.

I knew that he would clamp down on the plug as soon as I started whipping him. I did not waste time. I selected a thin cane, well soaked overnight. I brought it down hard on the worktable to instill fear and to split the fibers. Then working from the right, I laid a series of intense strokes evenly spaced across his ass and thighs. There was no screaming this time. The boy had worn his voice out. There was just a rasp coming from his lips. I then changed sides and worked another set of strokes in-between the first set to make him even. As I prepared to leave the room, I promised him that I would be back later to finish his training for the day.

Several hours later I came back and caressed the boy. I told him that he was doing a good job and was making me proud. At the first sign of affection he began to cry. Then I gently removed the plug. After some additional encouragement, I told him it was time to move ahead. He was struck with fear and anticipation.

I put the plug back in him and gave him a second whipping with a thinner strap. I beat him long and hard. He squeaked with pain, as his voice was spent. The strap broke the welts under his skin making great blue streaks on his ass. When I was finished I pulled out the plug and fucked him as hard and as fast as I could. Then I whipped him some more and did it again.

When I was done, I took the next size plug and put it up him hard and fast. When he calmed down and that took a while, I told him that he had the privilege of sleeping this night holding his Master’s cum inside him. His tears of pain became tears of joy. I secured a leather plug holder around him to insure that he did not let go in his sleep. Then I put him in his cell to contemplate his future with me.

Over the next weeks, his piercings healed. I kept him cleaned out and fully shaved. He had adjusted to the basics of life serving me. In addition to his discipline sessions, the boy spent each day doing heavy farm labor, chain gang style. He was always chained to special rings that I had concreted into the ground over my place. Leached like a dog, with only so much room to run.

Finally, I decided that it was time for his promotion. He had not been out of the chastity tube since his piercing, weeks ago. I had deliberately not worked over his cock and balls for a couple weeks. I wanted them healed and ready for the boy’s promotion.

The boy had been having wet dreams; but I knew that his nuts were full and that he ached for release. I had decided that he needed his nuts to keep the muscles needed for heavy labor. But, cumming like a man was not appropriate for a prisoner. The time had come to deal with this issue.

The next day, I laid him face up on the rack and secured him real tight. To his surprise, I released his cock from the sheath for the last time.. It popped into an erection immediately. I took a wet leather cord and tied off the cock; and then made a figure eight around the balls. His cock stood up like a champ and his balls were stretched tightly in their sac. It was time.

I started with a thin strap and whipped the nuts and cock for some time. He sang to me of his pain and my pleasure. Then I moved to a riding crop and spent a good deal of time making his balls swell with pain. Finally, I took a cane and starting at the knees worked him over top of thighs, outer thighs, and then inner thighs. He was very well welted and now ready for his finale.

I then very slowly and very meticulously jerked him off for the last time. Each time his breathing increased, I slowed until he recovered. His cock and balls were so swollen and sore from the whipping that it took some time to get him back to the height of pleasure, which is as it should be. Finally, I let him cum. He vibrated and shook the whole table. His ejaculation hit the ceiling above him. Many ropes of additional cum lay across his bare chest.

On queue in walked the vet. He put a catheter in the boy. As I had predicted, he rose to another erection within minutes. He cleansed the area and put on his gloves. I drew a black mark on the boy’s cock, about one and one half inches from the root. The doc then put an elasticized band on the cock just below the mark and again just above it. The boy was gagged, but was screaming into it for all he was worth. We then hooked a fishing hook through the slit of the cock and attached to a line leading to the ceiling. Although turning blue and dying, his cock was a full erection.

As his Master, I had the honor of taking a sterilized set of shears and cutting between the lines. The boy passed out from the pain, but the job was done. The doc sewed him up and bandaged him. Again, I was told how to care for the boy in his convalescence.

Several months have passed now. The boy is doing well. Each day he gets cleaned inside and out. He works long hours in the fields, with his hood eyes slits open so he can do the work. When not in use he is in complete isolation. Needless to say, I keep him well disciplined each and every day.

Sexually, I have trained him how to cum. After having him suck my dick for hours, a task that he has mastered well, I often fuck him. Then only when he is really horny, and not very often, I message his prostate and release him. Since I removed the nerve endings, he cums like a woman. There is no shooting, just a flow of cum out of his little dick. This does not relieve his frustration in the way an ejaculation does, thus making him more interested in my needs.

After the boy cums, I always administer a severe beating. I want him to know that it is not about his pleasure, but mine. Lately, he has come to dread being allowed to cum. The system works very well. So well, that I am thinking of finding him a prison slave brother.