In a matter of seconds, all my hopes disappeared and I felt only fear, literally stomach-churning fear. Despite all I had gone through in that horrible prison, I knew that this was likely to be worse. The pain and degradation would be greater because no one even had to pretend that I was just some kind of special-case prisoner. Suddenly there were no limits and no controls, and the three young men in charge of me hated me and had seen the horrors I had set up and planned for Eric. They were in charge of all of it now.
I was led to my own dungeon by Jez and Jonny, hobbling with my sweatpants and boxers around my ankles where Eric left them. In a panic, I offered the boys any amount of money they wanted, if they would at least stop Eric beating me again. “I can’t face his canings. I just can’t face them”, I pleaded and cried. “Jez, Jonny, please stop him. I’m begging you. He’s crazy. He’ll kill me ...”. “I got all of that on my phone”, said Jez flatly, “and I’ll play it back to Eric”. Jonny just laughed and said to Jez “That’ll definitely earn the cunt some extra time being punished in the dunking tank”.
We entered the dungeon I had built for Eric, but this time with me in handcuffs. The boys knew I was desperate so they kept me cuffed and tied me to a post. My heart beat so hard that I wondered if I might get out of what was coming to me by having a heart attack ...
Jonny picked up a big penis-gag and went off to dip it in the dog-mess, as Eric had instructed. Jez stayed with me and just smiled and shook his head. Jonny was quickly back – he had dipped the penis-gag into a pretty solid dog-turd and foul-smelling lumps were sticking to it. “Open”, he ordered. I wasn’t quick enough. He nodded at Jez who squeezed my left ball so hard and so unexpectedly that I automatically opened my mouth, and Jonny quickly inserted the penis-gag deep into my throat – vile-tasting bits of dog-turd, which I couldn’t now swallow properly until they finally dissolved, circulated around my teeth, up and down my tongue and on my palate. Jonny locked the gag very tightly in place. “Try begging us now, cunt”, laughed Jez.
Jonny picked up a knife and cut through my tee-shirt, sweatpants and boxers, and finally pulled off my shoes and socks, and he threw all my clothes into a corner of the dungeon. They both held on to me as they untied me from the post, now stark naked. Jonny asked “Are you going get over that spanking-bench, cunt, or do you want us to force you over?” Shaking and feeling sick in every way, I draped my naked body over that spanking bench.
Eric had told the boys to secure me tightly to the bench and they did it enthusiastically. “You tied Eric with these buckles, and they dug right into him”, said Jonny: “so now you’re going to get it worse – I’m adjusting all twelve buckles so they’re in positions where they bite through your skin, cunt, and then I’m going to pull the straps so fucking hard that the sharp bits will make you bleed as they go inside you. The straps are going to be so fucking tight that the blood won’t flow properly up and down your arms, which Mr Eric says will make your muscles ache and burn. He reckons the pain in your fucking arms will be so bad that, if you weren’t gagged, you’d beg him to cut them off.” Jez chuckled at this and added “We’re going to make you wish you were dead before Mr Eric even starts to cane you.”
“And I wouldn’t fancy a caning from Mr Eric with the mood you’ve put him in over the last few days”, laughed Jonny and spat in my face.
The way they tied me was every bit as bad as Jonny had described. My wrists, back, arms, thighs and ankles all started bleeding where the buckles chewed into them. My constricted arms were, as Eric had predicted, soon in excruciating pain. I realised that I now actually wanted Eric to come and cane me so this torture session would end. But, of course, he took his time, giving the boys a chance to entertain themselves by squeezing my balls, twisting my dick, yanking my ears and attaching metal clamps all over my body, including on my tortured arms – they laughed as I shook with pain and squealed and choked through my tight gag.
Jez told me he needed a piss. “Listen, cunt. You’re a fucking toilet, so I’m going to take your gag off so you can drink my piss. If I feel even one of your teeth on my dick, I’m going to pull them out with the pliers you bought for torturing Mr Eric. If you try to talk, I’ll slice off part of your tongue. If you spill a single fucking drop of my piss, I’ll fill your mouth with dog-shit till your cheeks are bulging out with turds. Got it, cunt?” I nodded. What else could I do? I was tied up and there were three of them. I carefully swallowed every bitter salty drop and didn’t touch Jez’s smelly dick with my teeth. Jonny replaced the gag even more tightly than before.
When Eric eventually showed up. He said nothing but went over to a pile of canes in front of me and chose a large but very flexible one. “This will do for the first fifty, cunt”, he said quietly. The two boys took up positions in front of me, grinning with their arms folded and still wearing the black tee-shirts with 'punishment' written on them, which I had bought them.
Eric started his attack on my unmarked, but now protruding and naked buttocks.
For stroke after torturing stroke, Eric the expert caner, administered his doses of pain, always full-force but selecting different angles, sometimes allowing the tip to swing round to my waist-bone where there was little flesh to absorb the power of the stroke, causing a special intense pain, and sometimes just letting that tip whack into my ballsack to remind me of what horrors were likely to come my way soon. At that moment, I had no idea how far Eric was planning to go with this caning. Maybe even Eric himself didn’t.
As the pain rapidly intensified, as cane strokes criss-crossed each other with overlapping lines of torture and misery, I couldn’t help struggling – I knew it was pointless but my body just reacted. Inevitably, I kept torturing myself even more on the cruelly tightened buckles and straps. They bit into me. On my wrists and ankles, they felt like they penetrated almost to my bones. At somewhere between 30 and 40 powerful strokes of that cane, I could feel streams of my blood trickling down my thighs.
After about around 50 strokes, Eric decided to arrange my ass differently for a new punishment. He found, on a shelf which was full of torture implements I’d intended to use on him, exactly what he was looking for – two sharp hooks in plastic bags. “These’ll do” - Eric sounded satisfied as he removed the hooks from the bags, and showed them to me. I knew something horribly painful was about to happen but I wasn’t quite sure what.
Eric grabbed my right buttock and squeezed a fistful of flesh, pinching it hard. After all the caning, this was excruciating. Then he forced the sharp end of the hook through his fistful of caned buttock – right through it and out the other side, trapping that lump of my flesh. The rest of the metal hook followed the sharp end through that section of my right buttock. I shuddered repeatedly at the agony of this new assault, but all this did was to make both of the buckles holding my thigh-straps, dig deeper into my thighs – blood spurted out like small fountains for a few seconds but no one cared. Eric then shoved the other hook through a fistful of the torn caned flesh of my left buttock. I couldn’t yell out of course but made weird little squeals through my penis-gag which was well down the back of my throat – I couldn’t even throw up – the boys were laughing. Eric then attached a bungee to each hook and got Jez to pull on the one attached to my left buttock and Jonny to pull on the one attached to my right buttock, torturing me by wrenching me apart so my ass-crack and asshole were wide-open and completely exposed and ready to be beaten. Eric picked up the heaviest single-tail whip - “Pull the cunt well apart, boys. We’ll see how it enjoys this”.
Jonny couldn’t help himself - “Brilliant, Mr Eric”, he said. "Those hooks are fucking brilliant - that cunt's learning a real fucking lesson now."
That whipping was more severe than anything I had even received on the spanking bench in the prison Punishment Room – it was administered with fury, not just with a desire for revenge. Eric used that whip at full power on my anus and everywhere inside my ass-crack. He crashed the tip of the whip repeatedly into my perineum, my ball-sack and my inner thighs. Blood splashed everywhere.
I lost count of the strokes – I guess Eric must have given me about 30 or 40 with the whip on top of the 50 or so with the cane.
Then came a surprise. “I’m going to fuck the cunt; keep pulling on those ropes, boys – I want this to hurt the cunt”, Eric said as he threw the whip down. Already rock-hard, Eric just entered me without any preliminaries balls-deep from the beginning. He pulled himself right out and shoved himself in repeatedly. He came inside me a few minutes later. The pain inside my asshole was almost unbearable from Eric’s skilful punishment fuck – all angles, deep in and out, and completely dry. It felt like I was being split in two with a serrated knife.
Breathing heavily, as he came, Eric told the boys to let go of the ropes and he simply yanked the hooks out of my ass, causing two more spasms of terrible pain. Then he asked Jonny to find the leather strap I’d had used on him a few days earlier - “It can have 20 more with that fucking strap”. Eric smashed that strap into my cane welts, now almost all oozing blood.
I was barely conscious as I heard Eric say to the boys - “let's grab something to eat in what used to be the cunt’s kitchen and decide what to do with the cunt next”. I was left there in agony, bleeding and barely conscious, gagged and tightly strapped down with buckles biting into me.
As they walked out, Jonny said “The cunt didn’t like those hooks much – it was a good idea to sticking them into its ass like that”. “They really looked painful, stuck in there punishing its ass”, laughed Jez. “The cunt’s got a lot more coming its way, plenty of tortures in plenty of places on its body”, said Eric. Then the door slammed. I was alone and in pain.
I was just left there for about an hour when Jonny came in on his own. “Taking time to think about what’s coming next, cunt?” he asked cheerfully. “Mr Eric’s asked me to attach these fuckers to your nasty balls – Mr Eric says ball-discipline is good for a cunt like you.” Jonny then picked up a 5kg and a 3kg weight, showed them to me and connected them with a bungee. “Mr Eric just asked me to do 5kg but I told him that was fucking soft and not enough for a cunt like you, so he let me attach 8kg”, boasted Jonny. He then looked through a couple of drawers before coming out with a ball-parachute and attached it to my balls, making sure that he pinched some of my ball-sack skin in the process. He then took two very short bungees, attached the weights to them and to the parachute hanging from my balls, and set them swinging with a kick and left without another word. I was now terrified as well as in intense ball-pain.
I knew that 8kg on a man’s balls is way too much and could cause permanent injury if left more than a few minutes – the drag downwards immediately gave me a brutal continuous ache with intense spasms of much more severe pain lasting several seconds. Everything hurt and I knew there was worse to come when Eric finally reappeared.
Eric came back into the dungeon about two hours later and started playing with my kicked, weighted and damaged balls – even the tiniest touch would have made me scream in pain if I hadn’t been gagged, and he spent a good five minutes squeezing and kneading, poking and pulling.
At last, he came round in front of me, smiled, left all the straps, buckles and weights in place, and sat on a little plastic chair. He looked me in the eyes. “We’ve decided your fate, cunt” ...
Eric always enjoyed delivering lectures to me in prison, especially if I was immobilised and in pain. Right now, I had eight torturing kilos of weights slowly destroying my balls, my ass had been beaten to shreds, and I was held down by straps pulled so tightly that the buckles actually penetrated my skin in a dozen or so places.
Only my dick was hanging free. But when Eric noticed my free-hanging and unpunished dick, he told Jez to find a sharp-toothed alligator clip and attach it to the tip. I hoped Jez wouldn’t find the real torturing clips with crushingly strong springs and specially sharpened jagged teeth, but he did. He took care slowly attaching the alligator clip so it bit deep into my glans - “it’s on, Mr Eric – there's a bit of blood – it's flattened its dick which doesn’t look too nice” - I could only make stupid-sounding squeaks through my gag, and they all laughed as my dick started to bleed. Jez gave it a flick to make it swing around giving me even more extreme pain - 'Keep flicking it', said Eric.
“Basically, cunt”, Eric started, as Jez kept flicking the alligator clip, “you’re going to have the worst hell you could imagine. We’ll enjoy torturing every part of your body. To avoid too many people knowing about this place, I’ve cancelled most of the whoring customers. We’ll fuck you when we want anyway , and we don't need help burning you either. It'll be a lot worse than when you were in prison – as you’ve probably worked out for yourself, there are no limits now. We’ll take our time but mostly deal with you ourselves – Jonny's brother might come to help – you might even recognize him – anyway, he thinks a bit like Jonny so I don’t think you’ll enjoy meeting him much.
“The whoring I’ve kept is the gang of four Asian kids who want to use their dogs on you and then cut bits off you and make you eat them – they say that you fucked up two of their friends in that dungeon of yours, so they won’t be merciful. In fact, I think they all work for some kind of drug outfit so they’re probably good at torture. They also said they’ll deal with you afterwards – doesn't sound good, cunt, does it?
“I’m not going to tell you everything we’re going to do to you – I like giving you nasty surprises, cunt! The difference between now and when you were in prison is that we don’t now care if you get sick from eating too much shit or get infections in your dick or asshole, or anything like that, because it won’t be our problem. There are no authorities here except us. So, among loads of other nasty things, we’re going to beat your dick to a pulp, ruin both your balls, and rip off your nipples. When the whoring gang comes, they'll destroy most of your face, smash your limbs and cut off your fingers and toes. You’ll have to eat anything that gets cut off.
“We’ll see what their dogs do to your asshole - we'll see if you've got an asshole left - before finally deciding what to do in that area. They say they've got a way of making the dogs fuck your face too, before tearing off what's left of your genitals. It’ll all definitely be incredibly painful.
“We’re not going to hold back on your regular ass-beatings, no matter what’s going on in the rest of your body. I enjoy caning you so much, and your bloody beaten ass-flesh turns me on, so I guess you’ll be in more or less constant unbearable pain.
“After what you started to do to me, I'm also going to humiliate you more than anything you could imagine in your worst cunt-ish nightmares, worse than anything you'd even planned for me. I can't wait to have you naked in that disgusting sewage tank you built specially for me.
“We’ll enjoy doing all this to you because torturing you fucking turns us on, and because we know you fucking deserve to have your body destroyed. We’re going to wank ourselves stupid and have great sex while you seriously suffer. We’ll give you sex shows during your tortures, with the turn-on that you're watching but you you know that you’ll never have any kind of sex again, except with dogs. You’ll be in unbelievable agony as you watch us having sex - and you’ll also have to watch us smash, burn and rip up your fucking possessions, and take all your money. It's called 'justice', cunt.
“You’re going to spend another hour tied up there, while the boys play with you" - Jez was already amusing himself by flicking the alligator clip on my glans and had now started pulling on it to stretch and twist my dick too, while giving an occasional kick to my ball-weights. "Then you'll get to work on that dog-shit", Eric continued "the dog-shit you collected just for me. I nearly threw up after opening two bags and there are at least a hundred to go, cunt. If you throw up, you’ll eat your vomit, and then a load of dog-shit, and finally go for a swim in the sewage tank.
“See you in an hour, cunt. I don't think the boys are going to be nice to you while I’m upstairs. Look forward to the dog-shit later, cunt!”
