Colonial Williamsburg was well
worth a visit. It was great to follow the history of the colony and also to
observe assorted restraints used on those breaking the law. There was a well
equipped jail (which I would later learn more about) and a set of stocks set up
beside the court house. I had flashbacks to my time in the stocks in Nova Scotia a few weeks
before.
I was
standing outside the courthouse when I was invited to be one of the
“complainants” for a re-enactment. Several people were given scripts to read
for their case. In my case I alleged that I had lent my wagon to one of my
neighbours who now refused to return it. In fact I’d sold it to my neighbour.
According to the script I was supposed to back down and accept a fine but I
decided to deviate from script…
The judge
pronounced me guilty of perjury and told me I would suffer the fate of
perjurers. I thought for a moment that I would spend some time in the stocks
and rather looked forward to it but of course they wouldn’t do something like
this to a tourist. I certainly didn’t expect what happened next! A couple of
the guards went out the back and reappeared with a couple of wooden devices.
First of all, a wooden gag was pushed into my mouth and tied behind my head
doing a good job of preventing speech. The other wooden device was a fiddle.
This was locked around my neck with my hands trapped in front of me. A heavy
set of leg irons was locked around my ankles.
After I was
locked in the fiddle and gagged the judge stated, “Take the perjurer to the
jail and let him think about his misdeed.” A rope was tied to a loop at the end
of the fiddle and I was led away followed by a group of camera clicking
tourists. I was in my motorcycle leathers so there was no way I was part of the
“cast” of the town but maybe they thought I was an audience plant as you so
often see in theme park shows.
It was a
reasonable walk to the jail and while I put up a token struggle, I was helpless
in the fiddle and leg irons. I was led inside the jail and into a cell where I
was pushed to the floor. The fiddle was locked by a chain to a ring on the
wall; the chain short, forcing me to remain sitting. The leg irons were removed
and my ankles were locked into a wooden wrist/ankle stock. The guards told me
to think about the error of my ways and slammed the heavy cell door shut. The
cell was fairly dark, the only light coming from a small barred window set high
in the wall.
I was
dazed by the events of the last hour. One moment I had been a tourist looking
around Williamsburg,
the next I was locked in a jail cell, gagged and in a fiddle and stocks. Like
all the other bondage experiences of the trip, it was making me horny. I was
left in the cell for some time. From time to time I would try to call out
against my gag and would struggle against the fiddle and stocks but I wasn’t
going anywhere.
After I’d
been there a while the cell door opened and the two guards walked in. I
mmmppphhhed into my gag and struggled against the fiddle and stocks. “So are
you ready to confess to your crime?” I will add that the guards were both very
good looking, both were around 6 foot and athletic build, one was brown haired
and green eyed, the other blonde with brown eyes.
My gag
was removed but I decided to keep on playing, “I can’t confess to something I
didn’t commit. My neighbour is the liar, not me mmmppphhh!!!” The gag was
thrust back in my mouth. They both bent down and rubbed my hard cock through my
leathers.
“I think the
prisoner is having impure thoughts, he needs to be encouraged to confess to his
crimes.”
They
removed the stocks from my ankles and unlocked the fiddle from the wall. I was
helped to my feet and led to the cell next door. This cell contained a torture
rack and a large box with holes in the side. I wondered if this was how I was
going to be encouraged to confess. The thought also went across my mind that
there was an historical inaccuracy; use to the rack went out in England before the Americas were colonised. Historical
inaccuracy or not, the fiddle was removed and I found myself strapped to the
rack. I was stretched lightly on the rack then released.
“Prisoner,
you can make things easy on you by confessing, now do you confess to making a
false accusation against your neighbour?”
My gag
was removed. “No I cannot confess to a crime I did not commit, it is my
neighbour who should be here.” Next I was gagged with a leather plug gag.
Historical accuracy was going out the window but I wasn’t complaining. I was
stretched again on the rack, fortunately reasonably gently. I was asked again
to confess and I shook my head. So the racking continued. When I was stretched
the guards would rub my cock through my leathers; man I was as horny as hell. It
was an interesting experience being on the rack; they would stretch me slowly
and while there was always the threat of being racked very painfully, they
always stopped just short. I enjoyed the helplessness so much.
After
several rackings, one of the guards unzipped my fly and pulled my hard cock
out. “The prisoner is definitely having impure thoughts.” (There was a definite hint or irony in his
voice.) They stroked my cock but always stopped just short of allowing me to
cum. “I think the prisoner needs further encouragement to confess.
They
opened up the box then unstrapped me from the rack. The box was a punishment
box. One side contained a set of stocks which locked my head and wrists. The
other side a set of ankle stocks. The
stocks were set up so I was forced into a kneeling position. Fortunately they
put some padding under my knees or the position would have become uncomfortable
very quickly. The box was closed up and locked and my guards left me. “We’ll be
back for you later.”
The
punishment box was very restrictive and I wasn’t sure how long I could take it
forced into a kneeling position. I was grateful for the padding under my knees.
Even though I was helplessly restrained, I still struggled and my hard on
hadn’t gone down since I’d been released from the rack. Fortunately it wasn’t
too long before my guards came back. “So prisoner, are you ready to confess?” I
mmmppphhhed into my gag and shook my head. “I think the prisoner needs some
encouragement. They opened the side of the box and took it in turns to start
stroking my hard cock. Like before, they would work me up to the brink of
orgasm then stop. Finally I was allowed to cum; wow did I enjoy that!
“Sorry,
we’re going to have to leave you restrained a bit longer.” My guards released
me from the punishment box but then restrained me in the wooden wrist and ankle
stocks. I really wanted to be released but would outnumbered. I struggled
against the stocks and mmmppphhhed into my gag as they slammed the cell door
shut. Having shot my load, I really wanted to be released, so remaining
restrained and gagged frustrated me at first then made me horny. The light
outside was fading and it eventually went dark. In spite of my position, I off
to sleep.
I was
woken up by the sound of the cell door opening and my guards returned with
flashlights. Both were now dressed in motorcycle leathers. The removed my gag
and released me from the stocks. They introduced themselves as Caleb and Stuart.
They had spotted me looking at the stocks outside the courtroom and couldn’t
believe their luck when I played along with the court appearance. We headed off
for dinner where we talked more about bondage.
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