Rehabilitation Part 13
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Rehabilitation - Part 9 free porn video
Saturday 8th March, 2020; 08:23
I'd slept much better last night, obviously exhausted from all the
stresses and exercise of the day before. Perhaps the pill Miss Stevens
had given me had helped too, as apart from a brief moment of being semi-
awake in the early hours of the morning when I'd thought the bed was
shaking, I'd slept straight through. In hindsight, I wondered if that
shaking I'd experienced had been Marcus jerking off again... I sighed as
I realised I hadn't made it 5 minutes into the day without the image of
Marcus' big black cock reappearing in my mind.
Rolling over I spotted the dream diary Miss Stevens had gifted me with
lying against the wall - I'd nearly forgotten she'd asked me to start
filling it out. After working so hard to get into her good books I really
didn't want to find myself bent over her knee again, so I opened the
diary to the first page and picked up the pencil, trying to remember what
I'd dreamt about last night. The more I thought, however, the more the
image of Marcus' cock floated into view - and there was no way in hell I
was writing that down in the dream diary for Miss Stevens to read. Why
was his cock so stuck in my mind? I'd seen big cocks before, after all -
in the porn I'd used to watch before prison - but none of them had
imprinted on me as much as Marcus' had. Was it because I'd seen it in
real life? Was it because he was black? Or maybe...
...maybe it was because of this damn chastity cage stopping me from
jerking off and expelling all these pesky thoughts! I grasped the firm
pink plastic tight and shook it desperately, fruitlessly trying to
stimulate my twitching cock trapped inside. I found myself fighting back
tears, my bottom lip trembling, so hot and horny and desperate for
release. It felt so close, yet so far, and nothing I could do would tip
me over the edge into euphoria. I let go of the cage and fell back,
withdrawing my hand from my boxers, staring at the blank page of the
dream diary and whimpering softly to myself. How much longer would I have
to endure this? At least the strength of my erections were beginning to
fade and the cage was becoming less uncomfortable, I thought to myself,
but then again such a thought was as upsetting as it was comforting.
Sighing and thinking up something as innocuous as could be, I scribbled a
made-up dream into the diary and awaited for the guards to take me to my
appointment with Miss Stevens.
Saturday 8th March, 2020; 09:17
Another shower, and another return to a small prison uniform and tight
white briefs. My reprieve had been brief, but boy had it been more
comfortable - the briefs were fine, and if anything helped with the fit
of the chastity cage - but the small uniform just felt too small for my
liking. I was now sitting opposite Miss Stevens, who had greeted me
warmly once more and poured me a cup of the familiar tea with my second
'relaxation pill' on the side, before she'd begun reading through my
entry in the dream diary. I sipped steadily at the tea, waiting for it to
cool enough so I could use it to swallow down the pill, and hoping my
fake entry wasn't obviously made-up.
"First things first - well done for making your first entry in the dream
diary, Josh," Miss Stevens smiled. "I know the whole idea of dream
interpretation and dreams reflecting what's going on in our subconscious
minds can sound a bit silly to some people, and I myself do not believe
in its reliability 100%, but I thought it could be a fun exercise for us
to explore and I'm so glad you've got involved." Today Miss Stevens was
dressed slightly more casually than I'd seen her before, in a pair of
tight white jeans and a figure-hugging, crimson halter neck top
underneath a cream cardigan. Needless to say, I knew better than to stare
at her beautifully-dressed body, and found myself thinking more about why
she was dressed that way. Perhaps she had weekend plans that involved
more than sitting in her prison office after our session. My mind
returned to the black man, Adam, who had entered her office yesterday,
and I wondered once more what their relationship was.
"That's okay, Miss Stevens," I replied dutifully. 'Becky' was what Adam
had called her - she'd never even told me her first name, let alone allow
me to shorten it. I was intrigued; eager to know more.
"So, you've written here that you had a dream about riding your bike
around the council estate you used to live on - did you enjoy that? Did
it make you feel free?" Miss Stevens inquired.
"I did," I nodded, finding myself imagining the dream I'd made up. I had
used to love riding my bike around the council estate when I'd been
younger. Mum had still been with me and Dad back then, and everything had
seemed simpler. I'd certainly felt freer and happier than in the years
that followed, and how I felt now in prison. Neither me or my cock was
free at the moment. "It was nice to be back there; nice to feel free."
"Yes," Miss Stevens acknowledged. "I can't imagine you feel very free at
the moment, being in prison, do you Josh?" I shook my head.
"No, or with this chastity cage on, Miss Stevens," I mewled pathetically.
"I know," Miss Stevens sighed, reaching over the desk and softly stroking
my shoulder. "But both prison and the chastity cage are necessary
punishments for mistakes you made, aren't they Josh?"
"Yes, Miss Stevens," I sobbed, fighting back tears once more, before I
could hold back the floodgates no longer and I began crying. I couldn't
believe how pathetic and miserable I felt, my body shaking as I breathed
weakly through heavy sobs.
"Oh, Josh," Miss Stevens soothed, stepping round from her desk and
crouching down to give me a soft, caring cuddle. She stroked my hair,
coaxing me to rest my head on her shoulder, as she passed me a tissue
which I buried my face in, tears still streaming down my cheeks. "Oh
sweetie, I'm sorry. I'm sorry you feel so sad," Miss Stevens continued,
gently running her hand through my hair.
"I-I've made so m-many m-mistakes," I wept, my words interrupted by my
crying. "I don't want to be in prison. I don't want to be locked in
chastity. I want to go home. I m-miss my m-m-mum!"
"I know, sweetie, I know," Miss Stevens whispered gently, passing me a
fresh tissue. "I know. I was wondering when your 'tough-guy' facade would
start to break. I know you're not a bad boy, Josh - you fell in with the
wrong people and made some silly decisions that hurt people. You hurt
quite a lot of people, actually, but I'm sure you know that. I saw your
face the other day when I first introduced Marcus and told you the story
about his younger sister - and yes, you were one of the boys that
harassed her. You were the one that ran off, weren't you?"
"I knew it!" I wailed, crying even harder as my body shook. How could I
have been so stupid? How could I have been so angry and hateful and
unthinking? Marcus would hate me if he knew I'd been part of the group
harassing his sister - and I wouldn't blame him. "Does he...?" I began,
but I was too out of breath from crying to finish the question.
"No, he doesn't know it was you," Miss Stevens pre-empted. "I have no
intention of telling him right now, either - I don't think it would help
either of you, particularly when you've started to form a bond. I heard
what happened at the gym yesterday. It sounded like the two of you worked
well together - and stood up for yourselves against those horrible young
men. Well done, Josh. I'm proud of you," she continued, patting my head
softly. I said nothing for a while, letting my tears run down my face as
my breathing became more steady. I had no idea what had just come over
me, and I felt exhausted as I sat back up, staring into Miss Stevens'
sympathetic face. She brushed a loose strand of my strawberry blonde hair
out of my face and smiled. "I think you could do with another one of my
special pills, don't you? And perhaps we can do our next relaxing
hypnotherapy session a bit earlier than planned, hmm? Would you like
that, sweetie?"
"Yes please," I nodded, my voice quiet. I should have felt ashamed at
crying, or embarrassed that I did it in front of Miss Stevens, or angry
for her part in my predicament, but I think I was too exhausted to feel
any of those things. Her calm, gentle reassurance had done wonders at
placating me anyway, and the offer of another pill and a chance for a
peaceful lie-down was too enticing to resist. Miss Stevens placed another
pill tenderly in the palm of my hand, and gestured for me to swallow it
down with the last of my tea, which I did obediently. Steadily, she led
me by the hand to the sofa and helped me to lie down, before setting up
her chair next to me as before and starting to slowly guide me into a
deep trance once more.
I closed my eyes and tried to relax, but I couldn't shake the feeling
that I was too upset about being in prison, too anguished by the denial
of the chastity cage, too distressed about the development that I had
indeed been one of the guys abusing Marcus' sister, too consumed by
thoughts of missing my mum, that I wouldn't never drift off to...
*CLICK*
I snapped my eyes open, smacking my lips together as I arose from a deep
and restful sleep. I hadn't been aware of the time on the clock when I'd
first laid down, but I surmised about an hour must have passed - an hour
I had no recollection of whatsoever. Miss Stevens was smiling down at me
proudly, and she softly stroked my hair again as I blinked myself back to
consciousness.
"Sorry Miss Stevens, I don't remember..." I began, but Miss Stevens
gently shushed me.
"You did wonderfully again Josh - nothing to apologise for. I must say
you've responded wonderfully to the pills and the hypnotherapy - in all
the boys I've helped with my rehabilitation programme you're definitely
proving to be the most susceptible to their effects!" Miss Stevens
beamed.
"Is that a good thing?" I asked.
"Does it feel like a good thing?" Miss Stevens bounced back as she helped
me to my feet.
"I... I definitely feel calmer," I admitted, nodding. "I'm sorry for
crying earlier. I don't know what came over me."
"You never have to apologise to me for crying, Josh," Miss Stevens
soothed as we returned to our positions on opposite sides of her desk. "I
think it's very healthy to have a good cry now and again, process our
emotions and aim to step forward. I hate the culture of men not being
allowed to cry - it's very toxic; leads to pent-up emotions being
processed poorly. Ironically, having the freedom to cry makes one much
happier in my opinion. I feel you're someone who's not been allowed to
cry before, aren't you Josh? Even when you've really wanted to? Perhaps
when your mother left?"
"Thank you, Miss Stevens. Yes, Miss Stevens," I replied meekly. The
memory of mum leaving built up inside me, teetering on the brink of
triggering more tears, but this time I managed to control it.
"Did you want to talk more about her at all today?" Miss Stevens inquired
tentatively. I shook my head. "Okay," she continued solemnly. "I won't
mention her again unless you do, sweetie. I would like to talk about her
- and the impact I believe her leaving had on your development - but I'll
wait until you're ready, okay?"
"Thank you, Miss Stevens," I answered. I'd never spoken with anyone about
my mum before - any conversations with dad had involved shouting... and
punching.
"In other news - I know I mentioned your gym trip with Marcus earlier,
but I'd like to talk a bit more about it. Did you enjoy yourself?" Miss
Stevens asked, leaning back in her chair.
"I... I did," I admitted, partly to my surprise. "It felt good to do some
proper exercise."
"Lucky for you Marcus has such experience as a good instructor, as well,"
Miss Stevens nodded happily. "What did he get you doing?"
"Oh, some basic cardio stuff, I think. Stretches, core work - I'll admit
I don't really know the terminology yet," I smiled gently. "Squats,
lunges, bridges, star jumps... that sort of thing."
"Sounds good!" Miss Stevens exclaimed. "Healthy body, healthy mind. I
think keeping a workout going during your time on the programme is a very
sensible step. Has Marcus said when he's thinking of taking you down to
the gym again next?"
"We're, um... we're actually going after this session," I explained.
"Marcus has said we should aim to go every day after our session - it's
not like there's much else to do with our time."
"Wonderful! Oh that's great news Josh, I'm so pleased that you're finally
starting to take some real positive steps forward - I knew that pairing
you up with Marcus was a good idea. Though, seeing as I'm aware I forgot
this step last time - how did you manage the communal showers with your
chastity cage on? Don't tell me you didn't shower again?" Miss Stevens
asked, smirking slightly.
"Um... no, Miss Stevens," I replied, blushing slightly as the image of
Marcus' big black cock drifting into focus in my mind again. Why could I
not shift these thoughts?! Every time I tried to ignore them they just
came back stronger than ever. It was so long and thick... I cleared my
throat and continued: "It was fairly empty in the showers - just Marcus
and I - and I managed to get a corner shower where I could turn away and
keep it hidden."
"Marcus will find out about your chastity cage eventually, you know,"
Miss Stevens highlighted. "Living in close proximity to one another for a
year, taking daily post-workout showers together... it'll be impossible
to keep it hidden forever. What are you worried about happening if Marcus
were to see your little pink cage?" she asked, making me blush.
"I..." I stuttered, "I... I just think he'd find it weird. What if he
thought I was some kind of pervert and he tried to attack me?"
"Does Marcus seem like the sort of person to attack you?" Miss Stevens
countered. I thought back to Marcus' behaviour in the gym, and his
motivational speech about being non-judgemental and wanting to help me
improve myself.
"No, Miss Stevens," I replied quietly.
"Are you embarrassed about having to keep your little penis locked away
in a small pink cage, Josh? Does the thought of Marcus finding out that
you're not allowed to touch your own cock make you ashamed?" I nodded in
response to her question. I thought of Marcus stroking his thick shaft to
orgasm last night - and the night before.
"Real men don't let their cocks be put in chastity cages like I did," I
mumbled meekly, feeling hot and bothered.
"No, they don't," Miss Stevens replied gently, cocking her head to one
side. "But the fact that you did, Josh, makes you better than any of the
'real men' that I think you're imagining could ever be. I'm so proud of
you for giving up control of your penis, Josh," Miss Stevens smiled,
reaching out to lovingly squeeze my hand. "I think that's one of the
reasons you've been making such good progress lately. You're behaving so
much better than you were - and I know the longer you stay locked the
better you'll behave."
"But... you will let me out eventually, won't you Miss?" I asked
pitifully.
"Of course I will, sweetie," she smiled. "Once you've met the criteria
for your release and I'm happy you appreciate the decision that needs to
be made, I'll let you unlock the cage yourself. I promise." Miss Stevens
added, smiling as she crossed her heart and held her hand up. I couldn't
help but smile in response.
"Thank you, Miss Stevens," I replied.
"I'm curious, Josh," Miss Stevens continued, furrowing her brow slightly
and leaning forward to rest her chin in her hands.
"About what, Miss Stevens?" I asked.
"I'm curious... if you were curious," she added, looking into my eyes
intensely.
"...about what, Miss Stevens?" I repeated. Was she talking about Adam,
the man from before? I thought I'd take my chance. "About the man who
came into your office after I left yesterday?"
"No," Miss Stevens replied softly but strictly, shutting down that line
of conversation for today. "I mean... you and Marcus, in the showers
together... you were obviously worried about what was between your legs -
did your thoughts wander to what lay between Marcus' legs? Did you want
to find out if the rumours about black men were true? Did you... sneak a
peek?"
"No!" I replied indignantly, though too quickly and with too much blush
rising to my cheeks. The sight of Marcus' mighty cock flashed before my
eyes as clear as day as I crossed my arms and turned in my chair to avoid
looking at Miss Stevens' smiling face. She started to giggle, and I knew
she'd seen right through me.
"Of course not," Miss Stevens grinned like a gleeful cat, shaking her
head, teasing me as I blushed even fiercer. "Why would a 100% straight
white boy ever want to look at what lurks between the legs of a large
black man? Why would you ever want to, Josh? I know you've told me you're
not gay - not even the slightest bit curious - so I know you wouldn't
have looked. Silly question of mine, really. I do hope you'll forgive me,
Josh," Miss Stevens winked.
"Yes, Miss Stevens," I mumbled awkwardly.
"Now, it sounds as if Marcus is keeping you busy with your fitness, and I
know I only gave you the dream diary yesterday, so for today I'll let you
get away with no homework," Miss Stevens said. "Enjoy your Saturday
afternoon, Josh. I'll be seeing you again tomorrow morning, then on
Monday I think we'll start with our regular weekly sessions where both
you and Marcus attend. I've cleared it with the higher-ups for him to
come along, but please remind him, won't you Josh? Thank you."
"I will, Miss Stevens," I nodded, rising to leave. I ached to ask more
about the mysterious Adam, but I could tell now wasn't the time. Maybe
tomorrow...
Saturday 8th March, 2020; 12:02
"All these squats are making my thighs burn!" I moaned as Marcus led me
into another set.
"Good," he smirked back, "that's how you know they're working!"
"Can't I do something different as well?" I asked, watching him curl
weights easily in front of me.
"Not yet I'm afraid," Marcus replied, shaking his head. "You've not done
enough to build up a strong core and base, and if you were to leap into
weights like these," he gestured as he curled up the weights once more,
"I worry you'd hurt yourself. So for now, I want you to drill squats,
lunges, and bridges. If you get too tired, though, we can step it down to
leg lifts, step ups, and flutter kicks."
In actuality I ended up doing multiple sets of all six, as well as
stretches and yoga poses. Marcus obviously thought I could manage it, and
the guy was like a machine with the weights - my body, particularly my
legs and hips, were trembling after everything I'd been doing, whereas
he'd motored on comfortably and replaced the weights on the stand with a
gentle 'clang'.
"Thank goodness Shane and Simon haven't come back again today," I panted
as I laid on the floor. "I don't think I could 'stand up' to them like we
did yesterday," I chuckled lightly. Marcus smiled broadly and offered me
a hand up, launching me off of the ground and to my feet as if I weighed
less than the weights he'd been using. For all I knew, I did.
"Nah, you've got inner strength," Marcus grinned as we made our way
towards the showers. "I can tell. Yeah, your body might be out of
practice; a bit weak and feeble..."
"Thanks!" I gasped sarcastically, which made him smile widely again.
"Not in a mean way, of course," Marcus continued, "but I can see it in
your eyes - you're not someone who gives up easily, Josh. There's a
reason Miss Stevens picked me to help you on the rehabilitation
programme, sure - but there's a reason she picked you in the first place,
don't forget. Shane and Simon? They could sure use some personality
adjustment - but she didn't pick them, did she? There's something special
about you, Josh," Marcus smiled, patting me on the back as he reached up
to grab us some fresh uniforms and towels.
I was tempted to make a quip about Marcus saying some awfully gay stuff
for a straight guy, but I thought better of it - he'd just said something
very kind as usual, and I didn't want to ruin it. Besides, I was still
preoccupied with thoughts about the impending shower routine - I didn't
want Marcus to see what was between my legs, and I didn't want to see
what was between his. One glimpse had been enough for a lifetime, it
seemed - I didn't even have to close my eyes to see it clearly in my
mind.
"Oh, yeah," Marcus sighed with relief as he stripped off smartly and
dived under a warm, steamy showerhead. I tried not to look as he began to
rub soap into his muscular torso, building up a frothy lather, and
timidly stripped off myself, keeping my back to him, and sidled into a
nearby shower for a lightning-fast soak. Thankfully the gym showers were
once again empty besides the two of us - obviously coming around
lunchtime was the best time to avoid others. Like before I kept my back
to Marcus and my legs neatly together, keeping the cage pressed forward
and hidden from his view. Being turned away from him also helped with
preventing me from staring at any part of his anatomy - not that I wanted
to.
But the damage had been done already - just knowing that Marcus had a
sleeping beast swinging between his legs, proudly displayed to the world
just a few steps behind me, was enough to make me feel shaky (though
maybe that was also the workout contributing). I stared down at the tiny
pink cage poking out from between my legs and a vision of Marcus' cock
sliding forth through my legs from behind, dwarfing my pathetic cock and
making it look adorably miniscule in comparison, blared into my mind like
a siren. His cock between my legs... his big, thick black cock between
my-
I realised Marcus' shower had stopped and he was busy towelling off
behind me. My head whipped round and caught a brief sight of his cock
thudding against his toned thigh before I looked away hastily and tried
to finish my own shower as quickly as I could. Before long I was once
again clothed, my cage hidden from view, and able to relax again for
another day. Miss Stevens had been right - there was no way I'd be able
to keep all the secrecy up for a year - but I wasn't ready to reveal all
just yet.
The knowledge that I'd been the one involved in the incident of
harassment against Marcus' younger sister that had landed him in prison
loomed guiltily over me too. I knew Miss Stevens had said she wasn't
inclined to tell him yet, and I certainly didn't fancy being the one to
break the news, but given how supportive and kind he was being to me I
couldn't bear it. I didn't deserve such praise and encouragement. I was
an emotional mess, a physically and mentally weak person, who'd never
done anything good with his life - me, special? I scoffed. I wasn't
special. I wasn't deserving of the opportunities laid out before me.
I wanted to cry again. Nobody had really liked me outside of prison.
People I'd hung out with had barely tolerated me. My dad shouted at me
and struck me. My mum had left before I'd hit puberty. I wasn't special.
I sniffed, following Marcus out of the gym and back towards the canteen
for something to eat.
Maybe I could be, I thought to myself. Maybe I could be special. Perhaps
that was what this rehabilitation programme was all about - maybe this
was how I began to make my life better.
Maybe this was how I began to make myself better.
I'd come a long way - but I was painfully aware I had so much further yet
to go before I became a better me.
Hortense
- 22.05.2021
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