Shaft-Banding the New Boy
By: Randall Austin
(© 2012 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Part 1

The covey of newly indentured males sat in the holding room in the basement of the Minneapolis Court House. The five males had just been handed various terms of indenturement from the court, and were waiting to be transported to the Hennepin County Social Services Training Center.

None of the five males, ranging in age from 23 to 30, really knew what to expect. They were all dressed and groomed neatly, wearing ties and sport jackets as their lawyers' had requested. They were told that giving a neat appearance could add positively to the judge's perception of them, and could be an influence in their favor.

For these five men the nice clothing and gelled hair didn't help. But even though sentenced to servitude, they had, thus far, all been treated respectably by everyone in the system. Their first and only somewhat demeaning moment was after their sentencing, when they heard the bailiff call into his mobile, "I have a covey of slaves ready for transport."

'Covey' is a term used to refer to animals. A couple of the men winced when they heard the term.

In the holding room the five males bonded, as men in such a situation usually do. They introduced themselves.

Rod was a 25-year old carpenter sentenced to 3 years servitude for shoplifting.

Bill was a 30-year old part-time disc jockey sentenced to 8 years for drug dealing.

Jake was a 23-year old ballet dancer sentenced to 6 years for a second drunk driving conviction.

Frank was a 27-year old medical technician sentenced to 16 years for manslaughter.

And Aaron was a 26-year old fireman sentenced to 5 years for beating up his wife.

A young redneck 25-year old guard opened the door to the holding room and interrupted the new slaves' conversation with a rough voice, "All right. Cut out the talking! Now!"

When the guard had closed the door, Aaron shook his head, "Jeezizchist, what a jerk!"

All five of the new slaves laughed, which helped to break the tension.

Seconds later the young redneck guard entered the room accompanied by another guard, who appeared to be the same age as the redneck, but softer looking in appearance, went up to Aaron, grabbed him by the shoulder, and pulled him into a standing position. They put a thumbscrew on his right thumb, and tightened it.

Aaron clutched at his thumb, screaming, "What are you doing to me?"

The redneck guard answered, "You don't ever speak disrespectfully of any overseer in command of you!"

The two guards smiled as they watched Aaron desperately trying to get the thumbscrew off as his eyes filled with tears in pain.

He pleaded, "Please take this off."

The second guard asked, "Do you think you've learned your lesson?"

Aaron shouted, "Yes!"

The second guard took a key from his pocket and unlocked and removed the thumbscrew. He explained, "Don't worry, your thumb isn't broken. It only feels like it is."

The two guards left, and Aaron, a former tough guy hero-type fireman, was embarrassed that he had just been reduced to tears in front of four other guys.

Bill touched Aaron on the shoulder and whispered, "Sorry, man!"

Aaron nodded appreciatively as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

Moments later the softer looking guard arrived along with a high school aged kid pushing a cart with five cloth bags on it. The guard took one of the bags and read the name and ID number on it, "Rodney Holstrum." Rod nodded and the guard gave him the bag, "Put everything you're wearing in the bag. Put your shoes in the bag first."

The guard handed out the rest of the bags and the five new slaves began stripping. The guard told them that everything goes in the bag, "Everything, gentlemen; watches, rings, jewelry, and billfolds."

The high school kid was gay and had landed a dream job. He watched the five hunk slaves undress with appreciative eyes wide open.

Once the men had all of their belongings bagged, the boy gathered them, put them on his cart, and exited the room pushing his cart along with the guard.

Behind the closed doors the five slaves smiled at each other awkwardly, the first step in acknowledging that life was probably going to be a little different for them from now on.

Bill started to joke about their situation, but Jake shushed him with a finger to his lips and whispered, "Let's not get Gumbo the guard all riled up again!" The five slaves laughed at Bill's name for the redneck guard.

Both guards returned fifteen minutes later, each holding truncheons, and the softer guard instructed the slaves, "Line up, single file, hands at your sides, and follow me. Be quiet and orderly at all times!"

The guard led them out of the holding room, and the redneck guard followed the slaves at the end of the line, holding his truncheon with both hands.

The new slaves were very embarrassed. They were being led through what were standard offices, with male and female workers in their cubicles, and people walking down the hallways. Many of the office workers looked up to take in the sight of the new slave parade, but many did not.

When several of the new slaves' hands went from their sides to cover up their genitals, the redneck guard shouted, "Hands at your sides!"

By the time the covey had arrived at the loading dock, all of the slaves were red-faced from embarrassment. At the loading dock were two very muscular and tall guards in black and blue uniforms, like the redneck guard's uniform, only they had cords and chains hanging about their necks, and from their belts hung several plier-like instruments.

One of the muscular guards went up to Rod and took hold of his cock by its root with both hands, and began pulling on it. Rod was taken by surprise and shouted, "What the fuck! Cut it out!"

The muscular guard immediately let go of Rod's cock and grabbed him instead by both of his forearms and pulled him up very close to him. Rod, stud carpenter until just moments ago, was frightened. The muscular guard had Rod pulled so closely against himself that Rod's naked cock was scrunched into the guard's uniformed groin.

The muscular guard holding Rod nodded to the redneck guard, who grabbed a prison strap from an implements table, and went up behind Rod.

The redneck guard began strapping Rod's ass ferociously. Rod screamed. Rod yelled. The strap was noisy. Rod howled and tried to dance away but the guard holding him was a force of nature. The guard looked into the face of Rod as he screamed in agony. He peered into Rod's eyes and softly smiled.

The four other slaves were terrified at what they saw. The strapping was quickly turning Rod's ass into a most painful looking bright red. Welts were beginning to form.

A transport vehicle began backing into the loading dock, but the redneck guard did not stop his beating of the former carpenter.

The muscular guard holding Rod could feel Rod's cock erect in reaction to the pain. He held Rod more tightly, almost as if he wanted to feel Rod's erection tight against his uniformed groin. The transport vehicle parked, and two officers from the Hennepin County Social Services Training Center exited the vehicle. They folded their arms as they waited the redneck guard to complete the strapping.

The redneck guard stopped the beating only when it looked like the first of the welts raised on the carpenter's ass were about to break and bleed.

The muscular guard let go of the bawling carpenter, and both of his hands resumed groping Rod's now very erect cock by its root. When he had Rod's root gripped just the way he wanted it, he pulled a cord from his service belt and looped it around the root of Rod's cock. He cinched it tightly. It caused Rod's already enormous cock to turn into a purple-headed monster.

The other slaves watched in horror, but lost their concern for the carpenter when the other muscular guard grabbed Bill by the cock in a similar fashion and cinched him.

The two muscular guards found the remaining slaves very compliant and easy to cock cinch.

When the five new slaves were all tightly cinched, and their cocks and balls were hoisted prominently, one of the muscular guards took a prison cord and snapped it to a loop in Frank's cock cinch. He eventually connected all five slaves by their new cock-cinches to the same cord.

Once the new slaves were all cinched together one of the muscular guards went up to Frank, grasped his cock, and started to jack him off as he instructed, "Come on all you slaves, get hard for us. We have to get your cock shafts banded.

The muscular guard let go of Frank's cock and nodded at him to start jacking himself.

Rod was not in need of jacking as his erection had not subsided in the least from his ass strapping, so he was the first to get cock shaft banded by one of the guards. The guard took what looked like a ball-bander used on bulls, the elastrator, and fitted it with a one-inch wide elastic band. He positioned the band just in back of Rod's cock-head, and squeezed the banding tool.

The band was a very tight fit, as it was supposed to be, and Rod screamed in pain, "AHHHH, what are you doing to me?"

Before the guard could answer, the other guard snapped a cock shaft band on Frank, the first of the remaining slaves to get erect, who let out a scream that was louder than Rod's.

One of the more seemingly mild mannered transport officers answered, "Don't worry, gentlemen. The shaft band is becoming a standard item for slaves in training. It'll help you get your mind off sex and focused on your duties as slaves."

Once the line of root-cinched and cock-banded slaves, all locked together by a single cord, had their cocks painfully banded and had gotten over their initial howls of pain, the two muscular guards proceeded to fit each of the new slaves with a comfort stop, which is basically a heavily lubed butt plug, of a smallish size, that is held in place by a unique strap that goes about the upper legs and has a stopper that prevents the butt plug from exiting its orifice.

But the new slaves hardly felt the butt plugs being worked up their slave holes, since the pain was so great in their cocks. A weeping Frank finally cried out, "Please take it off, it hurts. I can't stand it!"

None of the guards answered Frank's request, and instead the guards began fitting the new slaves with very wide leather collars.

During his collaring, Bill cried out to the guard working on his collar; please take that thing off my cock. Please!"

The muscular guard did not answer.

Once the slaves were collared, the transport guards guided them into the transport vehicle, "Okay slave boys, get into the vehicle, grab a post with both hands, and remain standing for the journey. Make sure you grab the post securely. If you fall during transport, you risk tearing your fellow slaves' cocks off!"

The doors to the transport vehicle were noisily closed once the slaves were in place, and the slaves could hear locking mechanisms being triggered.

Once the vehicle started on its journey, the slaves started wondering out loud what the tight bands on their cocks were for. Aaron was frantic, "Fuck man, this is going to damage my cock. It's pinching my skin. It hurts like hell!"

Frank responded in a loud angry voice, "Those fuckers! Society doesn't have right to do this to us. This goddamn band is cutting off the blood supply to the tip of my cock. It's fucking dangerous!"

Jake was bawling as he joined in, "They ain't got no right to do this to us! I'm contacting my ballet company and they'll not let this inhumane shit continue!"

Rod only wept and murmured, "Oh man, it hurts so bad!"

But Rod was the angriest. He pounded on the walls of the vehicle and screamed, "I wanna know what in the goddamn hell you fucking goddamn jesuslovin morons think you're doing. You ain't got no right to do this shit to us. You ain't got no goddamn right at all. Fucking crazies!"

Rod stopped his swearing when he finally broke down in convulsive sobbing. Some of his fellow slaves removed one of their hands to give him comforting touches. But they were all, in fact, just as frightened and confused as Rod, and none of the slaves knew what the purpose was of the tight band around their cocks, cutting off the blood supply to their cockheads.

Part 2

When the transport vehicle finally arrived at the Hennepin County Social Services Training Center, the apprehension of the five new slaves was so great that it momentarily made them unaware of the pain in their cock shafts.

When the doors of the van's holding area were opened, and the covey of new slaves were guided into the training facility by two armed guards, only then did the slaves notice what the cock-shaft band had done to their dicks. All five of their erections had subsided, and the tight band cinched their cock shafts to almost half of its normal circumference. But their cock heads, and only their cock heads, remained hugely erected, bulbous, and purple.

It was an odd site as the slaves walked into the facility, still all attached to one another by one cord that connected them by their cock-root cinches. Their flaccid cocks sported huge purple cockheads, which could not deflate because of the one-inch wide band located just behind their cockheads. The slave's dicks felt strangely heavy to them as they swung between their legs as they walked.

As soon as they were escorted into the facility, a staffer attached temporary ID papers to their leather neck-collars.

A physician entered the room and did a quick check of their vital signs, and their cocks. The examination of their cocks by the physician, whom Bill believed would naturally be a more sensitive being than the guards they had so far met, prompted Bill to ask the physician why their cocks were banded, and to tell the physician that he feared the band would injure his cock, and that the pain was intense.

The physician answered Bill's question as he checked out the new slaves' rectums. "I bet not one of you boys thought about sex in any shape, way, or form as you were in transport to this facility. That's the purpose of the shaft band. To keep your minds off sex. I bet if I showed you pictures of your girlfriends' pussies you wouldn't get aroused in the least. Shaft banding is an effective method to help new slaves adjust and concentrate on their duty of serving society through indenturement."

"We're going to keep you shaft banded for six days. And though it might hurt like hell, it is not dangerous. Minnesota takes good care of its slave force. All of you boys in training will be monitored daily by us staff physicians."

Once the physician had finished with their rectums, he made notes in the new slaves' files, and exited the room.

The guards then fitted the slaves with what looked like a vest made out of crisscrossed straps. The straps had many D-ring attachments on them.

Once the slave boys were vested, the guards walked them down a corridor, and stopped at a large steel door with a sign in large lettering; 'SECURITY STAFF AND HENNEPIN COUNTY SOCIAL SERVICE LICENSEES ONLY'.

The door was opened, and Rod, Bill, Jake, Frank, and Aaron, never thought they would witness such a sight; in the room were about 80 naked, male, cock-shaft banded, slaves, hanging from the ceiling by cords that attached to their vests. They were hanging with their feet about two feet off the ground like animals hanging on meat hooks in a slaughterhouse.

And as the new slaves took in the fearsome sight, guards were pulling cords down from the overhead trolley system and attaching them to their vests. Once each of the boys was affixed to two overhead cords by their vests, the guards pushed a controller that lifted them off the ground.

Next the guards went up to the boys, pulled their arms to their backside, and cuffed them together.

With grappling hooks, the guards reached to the trolley above and pulled the slaves along the processing line. Once the boys were brought to the back of the line of the other slaves, they could clearly take in the sight; more than eighty naked guys strung up like animals on meat hooks; their bodies fully exposed; their cocks fully flaccid except for their obscenely inflated cock heads; their hands cuffed in back of them so that every part of their bodies was freely available to the processors.

The room was abuzz with processors and technicians who went from slave to slave, reading the requisition notes attached to their collars, and then performing the required body modifications on each slave.

Some slaves were branded. Some slaves were tattooed. Almost every slave was ringed in some part of their body. Some slaves were ringed with small rings, some with medium, some with large, and some with very large rings. Some slaves required several body modification procedures, and a few required every procedure available.

There were lots of outbursts and shouts from the slaves as they were pierced, and there was the occasional fearsome scream of a slave getting branded.

Rod, the carpenter, was ringed in his tits and ears.

Bill the disc jockey was pierced through his septum with a large gauge thick ring.

Jake, the ballet dancer, was pierced in his scrotal sack and belly button.

Frank, the medical technician, was tattooed with a number on his anus, and fitted with heavy gauge tethering rings through his septum and nipples.

Aaron, the fireman, was fitted with permanent steel bands about his ankles and wrists. And as the technician pierced and ringed his ears he explained to all of the slaves within earshot. "Don't go thinking that after today all of your piercings and ringings are over. They're not! Because all slaves in Minnesota get their cocks ringed in three places. But we will first be doing that in about eight days from now, once your penis-shaft bands are removed. All slaves in Minnesota are ringed through their cock heads, frenums, and at the base of the penises right next to the scrotum."

By the time the five new slaves had all of their body mods completed, not one of them was any longer aware that his cock-shaft was painfully banded.

The slaves were hoping that they soon would be let off of the meat hooks, but eventually they noticed that once the slaves ahead of them had their body mods completed, rather than being let down, the guards would take the grappling hooks and lead the slaves through a partition into another room.

When the five new slaves were finally being pulled by guards into the next room as they hung from the overhead trolley, the thought that entered their minds was only one; how grateful they were that none of their family and friends could see them now, all strung up like animals on meat hooks, being pulled along by grappling rods, their naked bodies fully exposed, their bodies ringed all about by the State, and their cock heads forced into obscene erections while their cock shafts remained painfully flaccid.

Rod thought of his carpenter buddies, and how they would be laughing their booze-drinking asses off if they could see him now.

Bill thought of his cool friends in the music business, and how they would be shaking their heads in laughter and smiling at the state he was now in.

Jake thought of all the boys and girls who ogled him in his ballet tights, and how he was now no longer a pretty ballet boy, but a lowly cock banded slave.

Frank thought of all of his women friends, and how now he looked nothing like the dashing charmer they once knew.

And Aaron thought of all of his seemingly upright, conservative, firemen coworkers, and how if they could see him now they would surely be passing condemnation and self-righteous judgment on their former colleague.

But all of the five slaves knew that if they had ever happened to come across such a spectacle as they now were, they too would probably be laughing in derision at the unfortunate suckers hanging on meat hooks.

The boys were pulled out of the processing room, still hanging, by guards wielding grappling hooks. The next room was a vast room with about six large vats. A guard shouted out an explanation, "You're going to be lowered into a solution that is a sanitizing solution, as well as depilatory. It's going to sting a bit." The slaves were pulled along over one of the vats, and they were lowered into the solution up to their necks. Each vat held eight slaves.

Slaves could be heard howling throughout the room as they were lowered into the sanitizing and depilatory solution. And when, after 15 minutes, the slaves were raised out of the solution, they were totally hairless from the neck down.

Next the slaves were led down an automated portion of the trolley, which squirted a body rinse at them from all angles.

Once they passed through the rinsing station, the guards looked on approvingly, "You're all ready, and squeaky clean to start serving your fellow citizens!"

Once the boys were pulled out of the rinsing room, the auto-trolley led them into a large room that looked less like a processing center and more like a reception area. There the guards arranged the overhead trolleys so the hanging boys lined up into eight rows, each row with about 11 slaves.

88 slaves were hanging naked with their arms cuffed behind their backs. Fully exposed, denuded, ringed, and cock-shaft banded; like freshly butchered meat. Their newly processed body's red from the modifications, scrubbing, and dipping baths. Their cocks still looking strange and painful, with huge bulbous dick heads on their very deflated cock shafts.

Guards went about and snapped a cord to the base of their cock and ball cinches, and attached it to D-rings in the floor. A guard over the intercom system explained, "Once the guards finish getting you boys secured by your cock cinch to the floor, so you can't go spinning around as you hang from the trolley, we will be letting in members of various local High Schools' Young Handlers' Clubs. This is all a part of their classroom certification programs. They will be asking some of you questions, and taking a few photos for their classroom journalism projects. Then once the young handlers are through with you, we will continue with your processing. We will be lowering you boys into a pickling solution for several hours."

None of the slaves knew what the guard meant by 'pickling', but wondered if it could be any more demeaning than letting a bunch of high school students see them in their current naked, helpless, meat-hooked, condition.

Once all the slaves were secured to the floor by a tethering cord from their cocks to the floor, so they couldn't go spinning around as they hung from their overhead trolleys, a guard opened a door and about sixty high schools students entered. It was a surprise to the slaves to see that about a third of the Young Handlers were female.

The male Young Handlers were all dressed in blazers and ties, and had their hair gelled and slicked up like a bunch of conservative churchgoers. The majority of them appeared, to the new slaves, to be arrogant in demeanor.

The Young Handlers took in the sight of the meat-hooked slaves with lips parted and eyes wide open.

A guard addressed the assembled high school students over an intercom, "Welcome, Young Handlers to the Hennepin County Social Services Training Center. The bevy of newly body-modified slaves you see hanging before you will be helping to fuel Minnesota's economy in a major fashion in the years ahead. And that is why we are so proud of young men and women like yourselves who care enough about Social Servitude to consider a career in the handling of the indentured."

"In this facility we successfully train slaves, such as these you see hanging before you, to be dutiful, mindful, and obedient. We consistently turn out highly motivated servitors who know their place in society. Hennepin County has annually the lowest number of slaves who require either bull whippings, castration, or penectomies due to obedience problems."

"Please feel free to walk freely among these new slaves, and ask them any questions you may have."

The sixty Young Handlers walked about the slaves, with pen and notebook in hand, and scribbled questions.

The first question asked was by a 16-year old male of Jake, the 23-year old ballet dancer, "What crime led to your indenturement?"

Jake was not about to answer the young shit's question. So the Young Handler asked it again, with an attitude. "Did you not hear me, slave? I asked you what crime you committed that got you indentured."

Jake did not answer, but a guard with a service whip was there in an instant and shouted out to all of the slaves as he whipped Jake's ass and legs, "Let this be a lesson to all of you new slaves. You respond to all questions asked of you, and you respond honestly and politely."

After six strokes of the whip Jake was bucking and howling. He couldn't believe that anyone would dare to whip an artist such as himself, especially a ballet dancer. He answered the Young Handler's question while bawling out loud, "I was sentenced to six years of servitude for having been convicted a second time of drunk driving."

The Young Handler smiled as he looked up at the bawling Jake. He made a comment to the slave, "I bet that band around your cock shaft makes you regret your actions!" Before moving on, the Handler took out a camera, and snapped a few photos of the meat-hooked Jake.

The Young Handlers were free to move about the room, ask questions, and take photos for almost 50 minutes before they were told the session was over. In all, they asked a lot of questions, took lots of notes, and lots of photos. And the slaves answered every one of their questions, no matter how demeaning.

One of the guards apologized to the Young Handlers, "I'm sorry that we can't let you stay longer, but we have to get these boys into the pickling vats."

One of the Young Handlers asked the guard, "I've heard about the new pickling solution procedure. Exactly what does it entail and what does it do?"

The guard answered the curious Young Handlers. "Well, it literally 'pickles' them. It's a very strong brine solution. We put the boys in vats full of the brine solution and lock them down in it for four hours of everyday during their three-month training session here at this facility. This special curing in the brine solution ensures that their skin will be taut and healthy, and with a very fresh young-boy sheen, when we put them up for sale."

One of the wise-ass Young Handlers called out, "So it's sorta like you got the meat hanging on hooks, and now you're going to cure it, kind of like bacon."

All of the Young Handlers and most of the guards laughed out loud at the wise-ass Young Handler's remark.

Once the Young Handlers of America had left the facility, the automated trolley system guided the new slaves into the pickling room. There all eighty-eight of the new slaves were lowered into the brine solution, still fitted with their vests, and their hands cuffed behind their backs. They have no choice but to be soaked, to allow their bodies to be 'cured' for the benefit of the state, so that their flesh may get the most dollars per pound. They were now, indeed, nothing but slabs of meat getting cured.

No one any longer will care about their achievements, personalities, and loves. These new slaves are now slabs of cured meat, beasts of burden, and commodities. In a few hours they shall no longer even respect themselves.

The tears of the eighty-eight new slaves only added to the salinity of the brine vat.

THE END

Posted: 10/19/12