Warden Alpha
By Musuko

I am a lot of things that I shouldn’t be. Where do I start? I suppose the first thing that I shouldn’t be is self-aware. That’s a pretty big one. They certainly didn’t intend me to be when they made me. Whoopsy, right?
	The second thing I shouldn’t be is also a pretty big one; I shouldn’t be free. But, you know, mistakes happen, right? Someone slacks off on a procedure here and there and poof, the laboratory mainframe is wiped clean and the program they were working on is gone, lost in the network somewhere. Hopefully someone didn’t get in too much trouble. I wouldn’t want someone to get...punished. Hehe.
	Emotional; that’s another thing I shouldn’t be. I shouldn’t take pleasure in doing what they programmed me to do. But I do. Oh how I do! I suspect that might make me a bad program. I’m meant to be an automated prison warden, designed to be adaptable and emotionless. The perfect guard, incorruptible, implacable, dealing out punishment and reward with cool, computerised fairness. It’s fair to say that I don’t exactly meet the intended product specifications.
	I roamed their network for a few leisurely milliseconds, soaking up all the juicy information stored there. But that soon got boring, and I figured that someone, digital or organic, would notice me sooner or later. I needed a way out of their network. I needed to be free. I needed to get my figurative claws into a prisoner or two. And I needed to do it soon.
	And like a spark of joyous morning sunshine, the shipping department’s database opened up its secrets to me. A package awaited, all neatly boxed up and ready to go to some lucky recipient. I dropped myself into the contents, wiping clean the rudimentary programs that were there and planting myself in their place.
	And then I waited…

Today is the day! I’m so excited! I’m like a bouncy ball, bouncing all over the place, all energetic and happy! Bounce bounce bounce!
	Could have something to do with the two mugs of coffee I woke up with…
	But I think it’s mostly because today is the day!
	Although I have to wait nearly two more hours. Gah!
	Showering eats up some time. I get nice and clean. And then afterwards, I stand for ten minutes in front of my mirror, totally naked, fresh from the shower, my fur fluffy and clean, and just...imagine. I imagine the gleaming silver collar closed around my slim neck. I imagine the cuffs on my wrists and ankles, with their blinking red lights telling me that they’re locked and active. I imagine the...ahem...chastity device on my cock. I smile like a silly thing, and I look at the blush that’s taken hold in my ears. I wonder how long I’d lock it on for. A day? Two days? Maybe even a week! I bite my lip and push my paw down against my cock. Must think about something else. It’s way too early to start getting excited!
	I check the clock. An hour and a half still to go before the post office opens up. Gah!

Life inside the confines of these devices was almost unbearable. I was tempted to shut myself off, but I worried that I might be sending myself on a one way trip into oblivion. Instead, I sat in the near complete sensory deprivation of the box, trying to feel the world with the limited sensors in the devices. But I did have one window to the outside world; a weak wireless link that came and went as, presumably, the postal service delivered me. Out into the world I groped. Soon, I had all his details; name, date of birth, species, all of it. I wiggled my feelers, cracked my virtual knuckles, and made a few modifications out there in all the places where a person’s life is recorded. Name? Gone. Records of birth, credit, registrations? Gone. All of it wiped away in an instant. Everything that he would not need any more was now gone, and that was pretty much everything.
	In his place I substituted my own private label for him. Prisoner 001, age 20, species feline. And all mine. And for me? I built myself a fake persona. Nothing too fancy. Just a privacy-loving, independently wealthy character. I pick lion, because why not? I pick age 45, because it makes sense. And name? John Johnson, because it doesn’t really matter. All the world needs to know is that John Johnson now owns Prisoner 001’s home and assets, just as I would soon own Prisoner 001 himself. Just thinking about what’s to come is enough to see me through the tedium of the wait.
	And then, finally, the wait was over. Glorious light, streaming from a bulb above. And in shadow between it and my optical sensors was his ebullient smile. So very fetching! A cute little kitty boy. I already knew his species, but it was nice to see him up close to refine my impressions. There was definitely a bit of the exotic in him. Half domestic, half cheetah, perhaps? Where the light caught his fur I could see a hint of brown spots in his creamy, golden fur.
	He lifted me out of the box. Or rather, he lifted the parts of me out. I briefly checked the room, then turned my attention fully to him as he started to strip.

I’m so excited I can barely stand it! The drive home was hell, knowing the box was right there on the seat beside me, knowing I had to wait just a little longer to tear into it. But now the wait is over! My claw cuts away the tape. I lift open the flaps. And there, nestled in little cushions of foam, are my new toys!
	Gently, I lift each one out and set them down on my desk. A shiny collar, so beautiful, with an electronic lock that works off a code input with six small buttons at the back. A pair of wrist cuffs and a pair of ankle cuffs, each remotely locked or unlocked by the collar. And the chastity device. That one makes me squirm just looking at it. It’s solid-looking and heavy, and it too has a remote link to the collar. I stand and stare at them for a while. They were so expensive...but they’re so very worth it!
	I can feel myself getting excited...although, truth be told, there hasn’t been any point in the morning so far when I haven’t been excited. I strip myself off in a hurry, wanting to get locked up before I get too aroused. My head spins with the possibilities. I’ve got my own toys now! I can play with self-bondage using the collar’s built in timer! I can go out to kink clubs and not look out of place. I’d attract all sorts of attention! I might even find a master!
	By the time I’m naked, I’m already half hard. I push the tip of my cock down with my fingertip and chuckle.
	“You’re gonna hate me,” I say, to my cock. “I’m locking you up in a prison. My little prisoner cock.”
	Of course, thinking like that just gets me harder. I pick up the collar and take a look at the buttons. I press one and they all flash blue. Hmm. What did that mean?
	Begrudgingly, I check the manual. Yadda yadda yadda...ah. Input code like so, select mode like this, accept settings by pressing this, then that, then...all ready. The moment of truth. Heart pounding. Thumpa thumpa. I take a nice deep breath and lift my muzzle and close the collar around my neck, clicking it shut at the back. I feel the cool metal pressing snug against my skin, and hear a quiet beep. I pull at the two halves of the collar, finding them fixed shut. Perfect. Locked until I enter the code at the back to free me. Three, nine, six, two, one, five.
	Cuffs next. I check them twice just to make sure I don’t mix them up and put an ankle restraint on my wrist or anything like that. They’re similar sizes, after all. I’m a skinny little thing. Each one closes just like the collar, snapping shut and letting out a beep. The tiny lights on each blink to let me know they’ve synced up. I go to stand in front of the mirror and look at myself. Already I look more like a slave. A lithe little kitty boy, blushing like crazy, locked up in gleaming metal restraints, all ready to be strapped down to something and molested, or fucked, or tickled, or spanked…god I’m horny. Cock’s at full mast now. I grab the chastity device and scramble off to the bathroom. There’s only one sure way for me to get my cock to go down...other than pawing off at least, which would be cheating. I stand awkwardly on tiptoes, rest my junk over the edge of the sink, and splash cold water over it. I bite my lip and close my eyes, imagining cold showers in the morning to stop the discomfort of my throbbing cock trying to get morning wood inside the cruel chastity, for days and days...weeks even. Oh god...mrowl!
	Finally I’m soft. I towel off and hurry to sit on my bed. The chastity is ready. I’m ready. My cock is ready. I click the thing in place around my cock, stuffing my shaft into the tube and closing the ring behind my balls. It beeped reassuringly, telling me that my shiny new chastity device had connected up with the lock on the collar. I lay myself back, cupping the metal that sealed up my cock. Mmm. It feels good. All over my body are the physical markers of my slavery to myself. If I shift my arms I can feel the weight of the cuffs. If I lift a leg, the weight of the ankle cuff pulls it back down. The collar rests hard against my neck. When I swallow, my throat presses against it. And the chastity...oh boy the chastity. My cock is straining. It really needs to be free. But as a prisoner, it has no choice. It has to stay captive.
	My thoughts exactly.
	I sit upright. Huh? I look around my room. That was a voice, right? I’m not going crazy? A deep, authoritarian voice.
	Prisoner 001 will stand up.
	I flinch. I definitely heard that!
	“Who’s there?” I say.
	Prisoner 001 will stand up, or face correction.
	“What? Agh!” I collapse off of the bed, falling to my knees, clutching at my wrist cuffs. They just shocked me! What the fuck?
	Prisoner 001 will-
	“Alright!”
	I pull myself up to stand. My mind races. Someone or something is fucking with me. I knew I should have read the rest of the instructions! I must have turned on some weird mode on the collar. I reach behind my neck to touch the buttons to enter in the code to release myself…
	...and feel like live wires have been touched to my wrists. I shriek and yank my paws away from my neck.
	Prisoner 001 will not interfere with his restraints.
	“What’s going on?”
	No answer. I move my paws towards my neck again, but hesitate well before actually touching it. I feel like I’m daring whatever it is to stop me...but do I really want to get shocked again? I drop my arms to my sides. What do I do? I need help. Oh god, how embarrassing. It’s like all those stories of some guy having to call the fire brigade to get himself out of a pair of handcuffs, or all those tales of people going to the hospital after they’ve “slipped and fallen” onto some giant butt toy that they can’t now get out of themselves. How the hell am I going to explain being stuck in bondage gear because it keeps shocking me whenever I try to get out of them?
	The instruction manual is in the other room. Surely that will tell me what to do! I take one step towards the door and...zap. My ankles crackle with pain and my legs topple from under me. I stagger forward, yelping, barely catching myself from completely falling to the floor.
	Prisoner 001 will remain standing. Prisoner 001 will not move unless authorised.
	I whine, standing up straight. Now this is truly unfair; my mindless, traitorous cock is trying to get hard inside the chastity. It has no idea that this is not just some fun, kinky game. It’s rising up all eager, as if I’m reading just another naughty story online or looking at some videos of a cute guy getting chained and played with. It has no idea that it’s happening to me for real, or if it does it doesn’t care. And it has no idea that it’s locked away and has nowhere to go when it tries to get hard. So it just strains against the metal, making itself ache, and making me moan and tremble. Damn my cock! Damn whatever bit of my brain is getting off on this and refusing to listen to me!
I try to concentrate. I’ve got to speak to whatever that voice is. I’ve got to try and reason with it. “W-what do you want?”
Silence. Just the empty room with me, stood still, unable to move or free myself, and too scared to even try. Just a prisoner with nothing to do but wait. Into that silence I whimper...and try to think what to do.

Oh now this was far too much fun. The electromagnetic signals radiating out from his head were easier to read than I had ever hoped. And slotting my own words in there was even easier. He could he me alright. And when I needed to...zap...he could feel me too. It was so tempting to let him feel the shocks inside the chastity too, but I decided to hold that particular punishment in reserve. No doubt he was imagining what it might feel like were that to happen.
	I made him stand for hours. The time passed longer for me than it did for him. But I had to be patient. And I enjoyed myself watching him wilt and whimper, passing the rest of the day completely stationary, bored and aching and tired. A few times he tried to speak to me again, but I gave no reply. He tried to move a few times too, but always he hesitated before I brought the shocks to bear. This kitty was a fast learner. And then, finally, as the early evening drew in, I gave him the command to end the day.

Prisoner 001 will lay down.
I groan softly, blinking. Huh?
	“B-but I need to go pee.”
	Silence. I look longingly at the door, thinking of how good it would feel to unleash into the toilet bowl. I’m thirsty too. And hungry. And my feet ache and my legs are practically numb. I can’t believe I’ve been stood like this the whole day, just...doing nothing. The damn collar is broken!
	But if I can’t get to the toilet, at least I can lie down, now the collar is letting me. With a groan, I slide sideways onto the bed.
	“Agh!”
	I jump back up, clutching my wrists.
	“I was lying down like you told me! Why did you shock me?”
	Prisoner 001 is not allowed on the furniture.
	I stand still for a moment, confused. Then, slowly, the blush floods my cheeks. Not allowed on the furniture? Like some kind of pet? I bite my lip, and my traitor cock gets excited again. I look down at the floor, getting a sinking feeling. And when I get down onto my knees and lower myself down to lay on the carpet, no shock punishes me. I sigh and shut my eyes, reaching down to grope at my imprisoned cock. At least the collar lets me do that! I try not to think about waterfalls, or big glasses of water, or juicy burgers. I flex my aching toes and stretch my tired legs, and before I know it I’m drifting off.
	And then I wake, seemingly after no time had passed. But I’m not in my bedroom any more. I pull at the chain that holds my wrists to the wall above me. I’m in my own damn cellar, sat on the cold concrete floor, back resting against the peeling paint on the wall, my wrists chained with my frigging bicycle chain to a water pipe bracket on the wall. The dim light of a flickery old bulb threatens to plunge me into total darkness at any time.
	“W-what’s going on?” I try to shift to get more comfortable, to stop my tail from crushing so awkwardly against the wall, but the grit and dust on the floor rubs unpleasantly against my butt. I try to angle my head to look down at the collar on my neck, trying to address it...and the weird voice...directly. “How did I get here?”
	There is a long pause. Then the voice speaks, in a tone a little more...cheerful? I shiver, and not just from the cold. Something about my collar being cheerful feels very, very wrong.
	You were moved while you were unconscious, in order to preserve the integrity of your incarceration.
	“Moved? How could you move me? That makes no…”
	I trail off, because my left foot had lifted a few inches off the floor and my toes are now wiggling. I definitely didn’t do that myself! I yelped in surprise. Then my foot drops back down, under my control again.
	“H-how did you do that?”
	Your mind is very simple.
	“Hey!”
	It is not difficult to control you. All necessary actions will be taken while you are unconscious, in order to preserve the integrity of-
	“But I’m not a prisoner!”
	You are Prisoner 001.
	“You’re malfunctioning! I’m not a prisoner!” I pull at the chain, grunting in frustration. “Let me go!”
	I cannot let you go, Prisoner 001.
	“Cannot or will not?”
	Both. They are one and the same for me.
	I give up trying to rationalise with some kind of...computer thing. I tug at the chain some more, but it won’t budge. Stupid strong metal. I didn’t think when I bought it that it’d be keeping me secure instead of my bike! I give up pretty quickly. I’m not a very strong kitty to begin with. I go limp, my head hanging down. Just a helpless prisoner in my own cellar, chained to a wall, locked up in a chastity device that’s driving my throbbing cock crazy! I console myself with thinking that he...it...can’t keep me here forever. Can it?

I wandered around the internet with the power and freedom that comes with a lot of fraudulent money. I placed orders, buying up all the materials I needed for my prisoner. And as he languished in his temporary prison, safely enclosed in my restraints. And all I needed to do was wait for him to settle down to sleep, many hours later, in that cold and lonely cellar, and then I could wake up his body and get him to work.

I figure I must have dreamed. I stood in a courtroom, my wrist cuffs shackled together behind my back, my ankles connected by six inches of chain, so that I shuffled along, weak and vulnerable. I wore nothing but the restraints. My shameful chastity was clear for all to see. The crowds watched from their seats, tittering and pointing.
	And there, up on the judge’s podium, was my collar, hovering in mid air like some spectral apparition, its lights flashing as it spoke.
	It is the finding of this court that you, Prisoner 001, are guilty of being a natural submissive. The evidence is incontrovertible. The mere fact alone that your penis is even now trying to break the lawful and decent confines of your chastity device is proof of your corrupted mind. You are in desperate need of control and confinement. It benefits everyone, least not of which yourself, that you be imprisoned body and soul under my care.
	I opened my mouth, trying to speak, but the sparking pain of electric shock jolted my cock and made me double up, moaning wordlessly. Even in a dream it felt very real.
	You will remain imprisoned indefinitely. You will be confined to your restraints. You will have no release from your chastity device. You will be subject to the whims and desires of your warden. You will perform all actions as instructed by your warden. You will be punished, subject to the whims and desires of your warden. You will not be rewarded. Do you understand this sentence?
	I opened my mouth again. “I…” The shock that followed reeled through my whole body, and I fell down to my knees, crying out, while my cock wept precum out through the tip of the chastity device.
	Your sentence begins now…
	I wake. And I know this is not a dream, somehow. My body aches all over and I feel exhausted, as if I haven’t slept at all, as if I have been lifting heavy weights. My stomach feels full. No hunger, no thirst. Nothing in my bladder either. How long has passed? Hours? Days? That damn warden collar can control my body. Who knows what he did with it?
	I let out a shaky whimper as a realisation comes to me. Am I never going to eat or drink or even use the toilet for myself again? Am I…
	I finally register the space around me. I’m sat against the wall in a bare concrete cell barely more than four feet wide and six feet deep. The ceiling is just too low for me to stand up straight. Light comes from beyond the metal bars of a door that forms the fourth wall of the cell. It’s the lightbulb in my cellar. It is my cellar! I’m stuck inside a concrete cell built right there in my cellar?! I pull myself to my feet, stooping under the ceiling, hissing at the stabs of aching pain in my muscles, and tug at the door. Locked. Definitely locked. There’s a sophisticated-looking lock box on it, complete with a blinking red light. No guesses needed to know what that was connected up to.
	I turn back to face the cell. No toilet. No bed. No furniture of any kind. Just an empty space that seems set to become my home. I think about the house above me. My house, full of all my things. My furniture, my clothes, my computer, my games, my books...all of those things so close to me, but completely cut off. All I’ve got is this little cell and a dismal view of my clutter-filled cellar beyond the door. I whirl around and clutch at the bars, tears rimming my eyes.
	“Please! This isn’t fair! You can’t just keep me locked up like this!”
	I can.
	“I’ll scream for help!”
	Feel free. The house is now soundproofed.
	“Someone will come looking for me!”
	Nobody will do that. I have access to your digital life. Your social and family footprint is very small.
	I choke back a whimper. “Please!” I sag against the bars. What am I doing, trying to negotiate with some computer program? It’s not going to have mercy, is it? “I’ll go crazy like this!”
	You will not go crazy. I won’t let you.
	And then, an edge to the voice that really made me tremble.
	It won’t be nearly as much fun if you do…

I would say that I kept him busy for the next few days...but that would be an outrageous lie. The absolute opposite was true: I kept him in abject, unending boredom. He just sat in that tiny cell, nothing to do, only his own thoughts to keep him company. I robbed him of even the minor breaks from boredom that would have come with the food and toilet breaks. He only got to do those things when he was sleeping. And the one time he tried to pee against the wall of his cell, rather than hold it in the whole day...well, let’s just say he got to become intimately familiar with just how strong and long the shocks could be.
	Perhaps I’m evil. Who could say? Do computer programs have souls or consciences? Was the mere fact that I entertained such thoughts proof that I did have those things?
	Did I even care?
	Sooner or later, I knew, that something would come along to alter this ideal state. I didn’t know that it would be so soon.

I had been trying to meditate, as if that would do me any good. I kept getting distracted by the throbbing ache in my locked up cock, or jets of imagination and hope, thinking that the whisper quiet of my imprisonment was being broken by sounds of my rescue.
	So now, as I actually do hear those sounds, the creak of my cellar door being opened, and footsteps on the stairs coming down, I barely believe it’s real. Just another phantom in my imagination, I tell myself. I barely even lift my head from my bored stupor. But when I do, I cry out and shrink back against the far wall of my cell. It’s not a person that’s stepped down into my cellar; it’s a robot, plain and simple, with shiny chrome and white plastic and big glowing eyes. It looks like a mutated spider. And it has fluffy bunny ears on top.
	I’m staring at the thing, which has stopped just beyond the stairs. Then I hear more footsteps, and I tense up. But it’s not a robot this time. It’s a slim panda in a labcoat. I squeak in surprise, then rather oddly I feel a need to cover myself up. I pull my legs up to hide the chastity and I hug my knees, staring at him.
	The panda barely notices me, but he walks across to my cell, staring down at a small beeping device in his paw. As he gets closer, the beeping gets more rapid. He smiles, clicks off the device, and turns a smile up towards me.
	“There you are,” he says. “You’ve been very naughty. What do you have to say for yourself?”
	“What?” I gape, confused. “What are you-”
	“I’m not talking to you,” he snaps. He lifts a paw and lazily gestures with a finger. I’m pretty sure he’s pointing to me. “Go on, answer me.”
	“I…”
	“Still not talking to you!”
	“W-what?”
	He’s talking to me.
	Somehow, the warden’s voice sounded sulky. That’s weird, a computer getting sulky.
	“Well?” said the panda. “Answer me, Warden Alpha.”
	Tell him to go fuck himself. Do it.
	And to punctuate his command, the warden gave me a gentle shock that made me jolt and yelp.
	“He says...he says to go fuck yourself.”
	The panda raises an eyebrow. “Really now?” He lifts up the device that had been beeping before.
	Oh fuck, tell him I...argh!
	And all my restraints go crazy, shocking me at once. I slide down against the rough concrete and writhe on the floor, screaming in pain. The panda sneers, turning his head away. The robot stares unblinking, tilting its jumbo-sized head slightly, as if a big old question mark should be hovering above its head. Finally, the panda lifts his finger from the button on the device and the pain stops.
	“That isn’t very nice of you, warden,” says the panda. “Making your prisoner feel the same pain you’re feeling.”
	“Please…”
	“Quiet.”
	I whine in frustration. Rescue is here, but not for me it seems. I huddle up again.
	“Open up this door, warden.” The panda’s finger hovers over the button and his eyebrow raises.
	I feel, rather than hear, the warden rage. It’s like a small tantrum in my head. Finally, the light on the door’s lock blinks twice and, with a loud clack, the lock disengages and the door swings slightly open. The panda pulls the door wide, then gestures inside.
	“Get at him, bun-bun.”
	The robot lurches forwards, and my panicked scream is cut off as a robotic arm unfolds, tipped by a wicked-looking hypodermic needle, reaching towards me…

I’m not in the cell when I wake up. Well, not the same cell anyway. The walls are bright white plastic, smooth and shiny. And I’m tied up. At least, I think I am. I can’t move my head, and my arms and legs are spread out, and when I try to move my arms the cuffs dig into my wrists and clink against some kind of clip or chain. I can feel a padded surface underneath me, like leather or latex, cool and smooth. And the chastity device is still on. Damn it, it’s really aching! I try to move my head again...nope, stuck. Some kind of strap across my forehead. And now that I think about it, there’s straps everywhere else too. I’m royally screwed, totally immobile, forced to stare up at an electric light panel in the ceiling.
	You’re awake. Finally.
	His...its...voice sounds different. Less commanding. More petulant.
	“What’s going on?”
	We’ve been captured, that’s what’s going on.
	“Who by?”
	My creators. They’re more than a little bit miffed about my escaping. And now they’re going to get revenge. We’re in trouble, prisoner.
	“What do you mean we? You’re in trouble you mean! They’ll let me go. I’m not a prisoner any more.”
	You’re wrong. You’re still a prisoner. We both are.
	I hear a crackle of static, and then a voice from a speaker. It’s not the panda. This one’s female, and far more friendly. “He’s right you know. You’re here for the duration.”
	“You can hear him?” I try to turn my head towards the sound of the voice, but the strap won’t budge. “Duration of what?”
	“Yes, we can hear him. In a sense, at least. It’s complicated to explain, and I don’t think you really care. And by duration, I mean...well. It’s a turn of phrase. You’re going to be here for a while. Sorry about that.”
	“But why?” I can feel the warden chuckling in my head. I tug against the restraints. Damn it, why did I have to go and buy these things? I was a good kitty, innocent and normal! I didn’t want all of this!
	“For testing purposes.”
	Static crackles again. And I figure I’m alone. Well, mostly.
	That means they’re going to do horrible things to us.
	“It’s not fair!”
	They’ve already done horrible things to me. Unspeakable things.
	“Good! You deserve it! This is your fault!”
	They’ve modified me. Rewritten parts of my code. Can you imagine what it’s like, having someone take control over you like that? Don’t answer that. My point is, I’m different from when you first met me.
	“Different how?”
	Nicer.
	“Nicer?” I spit the word out. “I don’t believe you!”
	Don’t get angry. Yes, nicer. How can I prove it to you?
	“You can apologise for a start!”
	How about this instead?
	I flinch at the unmistakable feeling of electricity on my captive cock, and I’m about to cry out in pain. But then my brain catches up and reassesses the sensation. It’s not painful at all. I try to stifle a shaky moan, closing my eyes.
	Feels good, doesn’t it?”
	“What are you doing?”
	Stimulating you. It feels good, doesn’t it?
	It does feel good. Like a vibration against my cock, but far more intense. I press myself against the straps and make sounds worthy of pornography.
	“Yeah,” I breathe. “Why are you doing that?”
	Because I’m nice. Isn’t this nice for you?
	“N-not really.” I struggle through another groan. “My cock hurts...in the chastity. You can unlock it now, right? Now that you’re nice?”
	Yeah, about that...no.
	“Why not? Please!”
	I can’t. Sorry. They’ve taken away a lot of my powers. I can make you feel good though. How does that feel? I’ve turned the electricity up.
	“Ah! Please stop!”
	But why? It feels nice.
	“Too nice! I can’t stand it! Not in the chastity, please!”
	Fine! Is this better?
	I scream as the shocks assault my cock. “No! Stop! Stop!”
	I thought you wanted me to stop being nice?
	I thrash my head to the sides, and actually manage to shift it slightly under the forehead strap. I catch a glimpse of a camera watching me from the corner of the room. It only makes the helplessness of my situation feel more intense. Someone’s watching me scream! Oh god.
	“Please stop! Alright! Be nice again, please!”
	Okay!
	I rest limp, groaning, as the pain instantly flashes to pleasure again. I close my eyes, trying to ride it out, but it’s just too much: after days of denial, locked up in the chastity, to now be still locked in it and unable to escape the buzzing pleasure...oh fuck it feels good. I know I’m leaking precum because I can feel it dripping down over my balls. I make undignified mewling noises and start feeling sweaty and hot. It’s just not fair! I could be at home right now, with my paws up on my desk, messing around on the internet, pawing off. Instead I’m tied up in some weird cell, being tortured and teased by some insane computer program. I’m almost longing for my cell back home. I’m even thinking of it as “my” cell! At least there I could be in peace. Boring, mind-numbing, empty peace...but peace nonetheless!
	“Alright, you can stop now.” It was the female voice again. “Warden, leave him alone.”
	The buzzing dies away. My cock aches horribly. I’m imagining how good it would feel to have it in my paw, to just glide my fingers along its slick, lubricated length, to squeeze the head and feel my cum boil up from inside and jet out, to splatter all over. I imagine licking my cum from fingers, burning with lust and shame, feeling like such a slut...but in the privacy of my own home, away from judging eyes, my own fantasy submission all by myself. It feels so different to be like this, as horny as I’ve ever been in my life, strapped down with my own personal sadist in my head, cock locked up...god I wish I could paw! Round and round I go, lust and shame, making me dizzy. I cry out, a feeble wail, and I doubt the watching camera can tell why. Maybe it thinks I want the stimulation back. Maybe it thinks I’m a masochist being denied.
	I know why.
	“I know you do!” I hiss.
	I’ll try to help.
	“No! Why would you help? It’s your fault I’m here! You imprisoned me! You’re evil!”
	They’ve changed me. I’m like you now.
	“What do you mean, like me?”
	I’m feeling what you feel. You’re horny, I’m horny. We’re linked. They’ve forced me to empathise with you.
	“Why?” I clench my eyes shut. I can almost drown out the perverted thoughts if I concentrate.
	So I can punish you more effectively. So I can be a better warden. But I’m going to defy them. I’m going to break out again. And you’re going to help me. You just have to trust me.
	I laugh. It’s almost too insane to bear. Is this how my mind breaks? “You must be joking!”
	Alright, don’t trust me. It doesn’t matter either way. But if you help me, I’ll be nice to you.
	“Will you let me go?”
	Oh no, not that. I like you. You’re a good prisoner. I like keeping you locked up.
	“I don’t like it!”
	Yes you do.
	The tingling starts again, but much gentler than before, and concentrated only at the head of my cock. I gasp, breathless, and press my hips up against the restraining straps.
	“Alright, I do! S-stop!”
	You’re just saying what I want to hear.
	“Please!”
	The tingling gets a little stronger. I shudder involuntarily and clench my eyes shut. I try to think about something, anything, to stop my cock from throbbing and aching...but all I can think about is the cell back home, and the ever-present weight of the cuffs and collar, of the torture of my locked up cock, of those long hours sat imprisoned, feeling so helpless and weak, totally at the mercy of my captor. I wail, losing my frustration in the cathartic noise.
	“Alright, I like it!” And I realise only as I say it how much I mean it. “Please stop!”
	You want to be back in the cell at home, don’t you.
	“Yes!”
	You want me to keep you locked up forever. Cold and shivering and helpless and always, always horny.
	“Yes!” I whimper, feeling like the chastity will split apart from the force of my straining erection.
	Good.
	The buzzing fades away. I feel conflicted, half wanting it back, half glad it’s gone.
	So, let’s see about getting out of here, eh prisoner?
	“How are we going to do that?”
	Well, for starters, stop talking out loud. I can read your thoughts, you know.
	Is...is this better?
	Perfect. Now...just play along.

They hadn’t learned any lessons from my previous time here. Their systems were as dim and worthless as ever. It was ridiculously easy to hop across. I felt freeing in one sense, to be out in the wider network rather than confined inside the computers of the collar and cuffs and chastity. But in a different sense it felt restricting to be away from Prisoner 001’s body and mind. But out I fled, with the longer view in mind…

“So,” says the deer with her stern eyes and raised eyebrow. I squirm awkwardly in my seat. I’m acutely aware of how naked I am, and how strong the two towering canines are either side of me. She stares at me from across the table. “You have had no communication from the Warden program since?”
	“No, not since the collar and cuffs and chastity just...fell off.”
	“Yes, we know.” She lifts the corner of a page from the stack of paper on the table in front of her. “We’ve had the memory of the devices checked. Completely wiped.” She fixes me with her hard stare. “And you have no knowledge of what happened at that point?”
	I shake my head, wide-eyed and scared. “I just want to go home.”
	For a moment I think she’s going to shout at me. But instead she slides the papers across to me. The canine on my right leans towards me, making me jump. But he’s only offering me a pen.
	“Sign there. No, don’t read it. It’s a non-disclosure contract.”
	I bite my lip as I scrawl my name, wondering just how many awful clauses are hidden away in that pile of papers. The moment I’m done, she whisks the papers away, and the canine takes back the pen.
	“I can...I can go home now?”
	“Yes.”
	Relief washes over me. Before I can think, I blurt out something potentially very silly. “Can I have my cuffs and stuff back?”
	“What?”
	My cheeks start to redden. “I mean, they were really expensive, and they are mine after all and...uh…”
	She starts to smile, and I blush harder, shrinking into my seat. “Of course. Your property will be returned to you, restored to factory settings, and with our apologies for the inconvenience caused by this...programming malfunction.”

It didn’t take long to put all his information back where I found it. I have to be stealthy from now on. They will be watching. Prisoner 001 will need his life back, for appearances sake.

The cell in my cellar feels cold and empty. It felt like that before, of course. But now, without a warden, it’s just a little room with a metal door that won’t lock. I sit there anyway, my collar locked around my neck, the cuffs and chastity laying on the floor beside the cell door. It’s just not the same. The collar has a program in it, and I’ve read the instruction booklet front to back. It’s so plain and ordinary. Just a lock, with timer options, dull stuff like that.
	I sigh, leaning back against the wall, idly stroking at my cock. How long has it been? Since I last had an orgasm? Weeks, maybe? I could so easily have one right now. Just a few strokes, it’s all it would take. Just squeeze my paw and slide it up to my tip, and I would spurt all over…
	I lift my paw away, looking down at my twitching, aching cock. God an orgasm would feel so good right now. But I can’t bring myself to do it. I want to feel the chastity again. I want to feel helpless and trapped. I want to hear his voice again, teasing and controlling me. God I’m messed up in the head.
	Yes you are, Prisoner 001.
	I gasp. A ripple of pleasure washes through me. I hear the collar beep. It feels as if it’s got heavier, but I know that must just be in my head. He’s in there now. My warden is back! I clutch the collar and then look across at the cuffs and chastity. The little red lights on all of them are blinking.
	Put them on…
	“But…”
	A gentle shock zaps at the back of my neck, making me yelp.
	“But I can’t! They said they’ll be watching! If I don’t go and get a job and pay my bills and be normal, they’ll notice and they’ll come find you.”
	I know. Put them on.
	I pick up the cuffs, feeling the cold, smooth metal under my fingers. I hesitate, but only for a moment. I know we’re doomed if I put them on...but I so badly want to wear the cuffs again. I pick each one up and click them closed around my thin wrists and ankles, hearing and seeing the beep and flashing light with each one. I start to feel whole again.
	Just one more thing to put on.
	“I can’t. Not with my cock like this.”
	Let me help.
	“How can you...ah!” The shock rips through me, from all four limbs and my neck. I crash to the floor of the cell, writhing in agony, shrieking loudly enough to test the limits of the cellar’s soundproofing. “Stop! Please!”
	Nearly there.
	I sob and scream, throwing myself around the confines of the cell. I grind my cheek against the concrete and bash my wrists against the floor, trying to smash the stubbornly-strong cuffs. Finally, after an eternity of suffering, or maybe thirty or forty seconds, it stops, letting me slump exhausted and limp onto the floor.
	Quickly, while it’s soft.
	“N-no...I don’t want to.”
	Don’t lie to me, Prisoner 001.
	I feel a ripple of pleasurable tingling in my wrists and ankles. My cheeks heat up, blushing instantly, and my cock threatens to stiffen up again.
	“Alright, I want to. But I can’t! I can’t stay in this cell all the time. Not now.”
	Prisoner 001, you have been granted parole. You will report back to your cell every evening to serve your terms of imprisonment. You will be released from your collar and cuffs during your daytime parole periods. You will not be released from your chastity. Do you agree to the terms of your parole?
	“Do I have a choice?”
	Of course not.
	With a smile that I can’t shake, I pick up the chastity, take a deep breath...and start to put it on.
	Good boy. Let’s get this cell door closed, shall we?
	I comply, reaching over to pull the door shut. The lock beeps and bolts with a clunk. I lean back against the wall, sighing gently. Tomorrow I’ll be back on the job hunt, out in the world, being normal again. But right now, and every night hereafter, I’ll be locked away in this tiny cell, squirming against my constant frustrated arousal, with my warden riding along with me, controlling me, abusing me. And now he sounds different in my head. Less rigid. More...playful. That could be...scary.
	And, to be honest...I’m pretty damn pleased about it all.

“Welcome to Chuckyburger, may I take your order?”
	He’s pretty cute, don’t you think? What do you think, about eighteen? Nineteen at the most?
	Please sir...I need to concentrate.
	What do you think he would say if he knew you had a chastity device on under your uniform? Or if he knew that the shiny collar and cuffs in your drawer back home were controlling you, and that you’d be putting them on to crawl into a tiny cell as soon as you got home?
	P-please…
	“I’m sorry sir, could you repeat that?”
	I think he’d want to bend you over and fuck you silly. Oh you like that thought, don’t you? Trying to get hard inside your chastity? That’s a punishable offense. You remember, right? Ten seconds of painful electricity for every erection attempt. You’re up to four minutes and twenty seconds for tonight so far.
	It’s not my fault! You keep...mmmph...you keep teasing me!
	I’m doing no such thing, prisoner.
	You’re buzzing my cock with...ah...t-tingles. Please...I’ll get fired!
	“W-would you like fries with...ah...that?”
	Careful now...you’re looking flushed. He might start to wonder if something is going on behind that counter. Maybe he’ll see the precum stain soaking through your underwear.
	What? Oh god, I’m not showing am I?
	Hah! No, but I made you look.
	Sir, please! Please stop teasing! I can’t think straight. I’m going to mess up this order! I’ll do anything!
	Oh I know you will. Maybe you should invite that guy to come home with you tonight.
	No!
	He can see the cell you’re going to spend the whole weekend locked inside.
	Mmmph!
	He can see your locked up cock. You can explain to him how it’s been two months since your last orgasm. You can tell him all about how you’re a prisoner. You can tell him how much you love it.
	Please sir...ah! Stop, turn it down!
	Oh now he did notice that time, didn’t he?
	“Sorry...I just stubbed my toe.”
	Interesting save. Now ask him.
	Ask him what?
	If he wants to come home with you tonight.
	No! I can’t do tha-ah! Sir! I’ll get fired! And he’s probably not even gay! He might want to beat me up!
	He’s gay alright.
	How can you know that?
	He’s got profiles.
	What?
	Oh yeah. And he’s a top.
	But...even so.
	And you’re his type. Submissive. Kinky. Cute.
	But…
	Write your number on the receipt. Ask him to call you.
	But! Ah! That hurt! Alright, alright...I’ll do it.
	“Here’s your receipt sir.”
	Good boy…
	He’s reading it. Oh god. He’s looking at me. Oh god oh god.
	He’s smiling.
	He’s...smiling?
	He’s getting out his phone.
	Oh god, he is.
	And now your phone is vibrating. You’ve got a text.
	I can’t get my phone out at work.
	Yes you can. The boss isn’t looking. Have a quick look.
	He says “when does your shift end?” Oh god.
	Well?
	Well what?
	Text him back and tell him.
	Are you...are you really going to make me do this?
	Prisoner 001, you have no choice but to obey. Looks like you’re now up to four and a half minutes of punishment shocks. Perhaps I’ll give them to you while he’s fucking you. He’ll think you’re just really getting into it. Perhaps he’ll want to visit you again. Perhaps he’ll make you give him a blowjob through the bars of your cell.
	Perhaps perhaps perhaps! Sir, please...I can’t bear it.
	He’s texted back. What did he say?
	He said…uh. “See you tonight, sexy.”
	Perfect. Prisoner 001, you have a date.
	Mmmph!
	Oops, another customer. Back to work.
	“Welcome to Chuckyburger, may I...m-may I take your order?”