The Slave & The Warden

He was in for the murder of a gangland rival.  He'd whipped him to death with a length of electrical cable.  With the insulation stripped away at the last 12 inches, and the copper knotted.  It was a nice job, and Warden Tyrron, who was in charge of him and had had black ops experience in his dubious past, appreciated a fellow master.  But there was no turn-turnabout here.  Slavic was in for life, and under `labour terms`.  Meaning that he was a chained slave, the plaything of his warden.  Tyrron liked to keep his man in good shape.  He made sure that the labour was hard, and worked all his muscle areas.  He often took pictures.  Then he'd chain him up in the X-frame.  Slavic was a strong, silent type, but this fell away in the X-frame.  He hated the whip.  `No, please Warden, I'm not due for it yet` he would whisper, as he took the manacles and Tyrron stripped away his jock.  He knew he was due for it, but just couldn't take it.  Tyrron usually gave him 40, and this was about every fortnight, but the fun was in the semen control.  Saturday nights he'd sit with `his boy` in his office and play porn.  He had some good stuff.  Top quality girls, violent, inventive.  Slavic would be sitting in a thin, worn jockstrap, his hands cuffed behind his back, goggling at the action.  Tyrron would play with his boy.  Slavic's cock would rise free of the dirty cotton pouch, and get wet.  His healthy natural urges made his member sticky, a man?s plea for release.  Tyrron would stroke him.  Or leave his warm hand over the pouch and feel the guy's throbbing member.  Or fondle his aching balls.  A happy ending was by no means guaranteed.  Sometimes Tyrron would push him over to the X-frame and whip him to the sound of climaxing females.  Or just take him back to his cell when he was almost there.  Sometimes he would indeed drive him mad with a soft finger stroke to the cock, and let him shoot to that limited stimulation.  He'd stop at the guy's first spurt, and watch him shoot, and dribble spunk down the pouch of his jock.  `Please Warden, jack me off` Slavic would beg, pushing his hips up in supplication to his warden.  But he'd go back to his cell and get chained to the bunk until work on Monday.  `The protein's building you up, 207, instead of going to waste` the warden would tell him `but I'm going back to jack off to that little redhead with the big boobs` he'd say, his bulging crotch right over the lying man's face.  `Just be glad I spared you the whip tonight.  One of these nights your front is gonna get it.  Never had your tits caned, have you dude?  We'll save that one up for Christmas`