I was sent to a high-security prison for sexual offenders and other serious criminals for five years with no outside contact.
All because of Eric, a beautiful blond young man, just 18 who accused me of rape. We had met online. He turned out to be local and ‘interested in kink’. I invited him over, and he definitely wasn’t expecting my dungeon! I was never interested in consent, and I kept him there for three days. I used him in every way possible. Eventually the meeting lead to my incarceration 2 years later.
At the strip-search when I arrived, my stomach knotted. I saw Eric. I couldn’t believe it at first but, when he smirked at me as I stripped, I knew. He was 20 now, in prison-officer uniform. Then he spoke terrifying words, softly and clearly, and unmistakeably:
‘I know this piece of shit – he’s devious, so search every fucking orifice, give him a cold shower, and then send him on to me – no towel for drying after the shower and no clothes – he’s going in a punishment cell – he can run there on the outside gravel path – he and I are going to get acquainted again – I'll tell you later what he did to me ...’.
Life went downhill from there.
Eric had become a perfect sadist and was bent on revenge.
He still looked beautiful, in fact stunning in his uniform, six feet tall, straight hair, blond but slightly darker than I remembered, strong but without bulging muscles, slim and handsome with a dimpled smile.
When I reached my punishment cell, I saw that Eric was accompanied by another guard who was maybe a year or two older, a little shorter and with curly blond hair, strongly built and, for me at least, a permanent sneer.
It was my first night and they still hadn’t given me any prison clothes. I was naked in a cold cell with a bed with a thin damp mattress, an even thinner blanket, a dirty bucket, and a bare lightbulb protected by some wire. There was no outside window.
Eric and the other guard came into my cell with a typical prison supper, a bowl of dry stew. Neither Eric nor his mate spoke. But Eric undid his fly and got his cock out, smiled his beautiful dimpled smile, and pissed directly on to the stew – ‘We have to make sure that you eat – new inmates sometimes refuse their food, so we’re staying with you till you’ve eaten all your stew – we chose you some gristle and the nastiest looking pieces, which we’ll do every day from now on – my piss might improve it a bit – Enjoy!’ Eric laughed and spat in my face.
Then his companion raised his voice and said ‘Everyone here will soon know what you did to Eric – this is just the start – you’re going to regret what you did every hour of every day for the next five years.’ Then he noticed I hadn’t started eating. ‘Right now you have a choice – you eat that stew, all of it, from the bowl, or it goes on the floor. If it goes on the floor, I’ll go outside to the stables and step in horse-shit and, when I come back in, I’ll step in the stew and you’ll lick it off the soles of my shoes while Eric goes round the back of you and kicks you in the balls. Your choice, cunt.’
‘OK’ I said quietly.
‘Don’t you not know how to address a prison officer, shitface?’ Try again.
‘Yes, sirs!’
‘Please may I have a spoon and fork, Sirs’. Eric replied this time: ‘No, shitface – you disrespected us and now you get punished – your punishment is to eat your stew with your hands cuffed behind your back.’ With that, Eric dragged me off the bed, smacked my flaccid dick making me cry out, and handcuffed me.
Then he put the tray on the floor and waited. I sank on to my knees, still naked, and licked up that pissed-on stew, while the 2 prison-officer boys watched and laughed. I didn’t dare to leave a smear on the bowl. I ate every scrap of that disgusting supper, my first prison supper of many. When Eric told me to, I even licked my soiled lips.
I had to say a polite ‘thank you sirs’ and they said they’d come back later, if they remembered, to release my handcuffs which had been put on deliberately too tightly and were now biting into my wrists.
It was the beginning of a nightmare of pain and humiliation.
I had to wait until the next morning for Eric to release me from my handcuffs. Then with a broad smile he explained my regime.
‘You’re going to have five years of hell. You took advantage of me and now it’s going to be a hundred times worse for you.
‘You’re going to be on a permanent no-privileges regime. That means you only ever get cold water for washing and showers. You’ll have to do extremely hard but completely pointless work moving piles of rubble in all weathers, for eight hours every day, seven days a week, from one side of a yard to the other. Misbehaving prisoners get a week or two of hard labour, but you’ll do it for five fucking years non-stop – with extra punishments if you slacken.
‘You’ll be kept in solitary “for your own safety”, which means that my friend and I get to select your food, and believe me we’ll pick the nastiest – usually a meal which has been allowed to congeal from the day before, always including disgusting scraps from other inmates’ plates, edible waste like fish heads and gristle. You’ll get special supplements from us, like piss, spit, boogies and snot, cuttings of pubic hair or nail clippings. When you’re a bad cunt, we’ve got much nastier additions which you’ll learn about.
‘Each day, you’ll make a visit with us to the punishment room. There, for everything you did to me, there’s something a lot worse for you. The canings will be much worse than what you did to me – and don’t forget you made my ass bleed. There’ll be agonising dick torture and massive ball weights and cruel ball crushing – remember how you tied me up and kicked me in the balls again and again? Excruciating nipple clamps for playing with my ’tits’. Of course, other parts of your body will also suffer when we feel like it – expect thumbscrews on your fingers and toes, clamps on your nose, ears and tongue, hot chillies up your asshole, beatings on your thighs and calves. We’re going to have a lot of fun with you.
‘Then there will be the ways we degrade and humiliate you. The rest of the inmates will get used to you going around naked but I doubt if you’ll ever get used to their lewd remarks, dick-grabbing, ball-twisting and other groping. And, for any who want you, your holes are available and we get the tips – yes, you’ll be whored out.
‘We’ll explain that you won’t shower properly so you’ll be hosed down when you’re tied up in the yard at exercise time – we’ll let other inmates do it and we’ll tell them to use full power and aim for your balls, so you can look forward to that. Oh and, when we’re not torturing it, we’ll keep your nasty dick in tight chastity with spikes so, if you do ever manage to get an erection (which is unlikely given the way we’ll punish your dick and balls), your nasty little dick will be skewered by the spikes.
‘And do you remember pissing on me when I was in your cage? Well, now you’re going to be our toilet. We’ve installed a toilet box in the punishment room. When one – or both – of us needs a shit, we’ll lock your head in that box – then we’ll shit and you’ll eat. Believe me, you’ll learn quickly to eat everything we give you and thank us profusely, or you’ll regret it. If we have to fix a gag which keeps your mouth open, and you don’t eat our shit voluntarily, we’ll make you stand for six hours with a crushed chilli up your asshole and at least 6kg hanging from your balls. Then you’ll eat not just our shit but a helping of dog-shit as well.’
I was escorted out of my cell, still naked, down to the basement and into a large room with a bondage table, a winch and a spanking bench. I saw the toilet box in the corner, and several shelves and hooks with material for bondage, and all manner of punishments and tortures. On the table was an evil-looking chastity device. Eric picked up a cane and pointed to the spanking bench.
My prison hell had started.
ERIC’S REVENGE
Chapter two
Eric pointed to the spanking bench while the blond guard went over to a row of canes stacked by one of the bare walls of the punishment room. It was obvious that these canes weren’t anything like school canes but thick flexible canes for use on the worst criminals.
I broke down. I fell to the floor and begged Eric not to hurt me. I said I was sorry and asked him to forgive me and not to do this to me. I grovelled naked on the concrete floor in front of him. I turned to the other guard and kissed his feet, begging hard. Then I felt sudden blinding pain. It was Eric’s hard leather prison-officer boot connecting with my balls as hard as Eric could make it connect.
I writhed on the floor, clutching myself in pure agony, unable even to scream. The two of them laughed for a minute or so and then each grabbed an arm and without any further consideration, or even saying anything, tied me securely to the spanking bench. My legs were slightly spread making my cock and balls easily accessible to anyone who wanted to torment them, and my torso was tied slightly downwards so my buttocks were at the highest point on the bench and at a perfect height for beating. My kicked balls were still sending waves of pain right through me. Eric asked the other guard to ‘squeeze the cunt’s balls so he feels all the pain for longer, while I explain some more facts to him’.
Eric lent down, spat in my face, and smiled his beautiful smile, and began: ‘That kick was just the beginning of what I can do to you, cunt, if you don’t obey me. I’m enjoying hurting you and I don’t care if your balls are completely destroyed … For that begging and disobedience, for not going straight on to this spanking bench, I’ve decided to increase your punishment for today. We were going to just give you a dozen strokes of the cane, which would have made you scream. Now it’ll be three dozen so you’ll hardly be able to walk afterwards, which in turn will mean that the guards in charge of your hard labour will probably beat you again. We’ll still put your dick it in its spiked cage, but now we’ll have some fun with it first, which won’t be much fun for you – oh, and my friend needs a shit so you’ll get an extra meal too. Don’t worry if there are some bits of you that aren’t hurting when you go back to start your first day’s hard labour: there’s always tomorrow, the next day and the day after that and the day after that …”
The guard finally released my balls and I yelped when he gave them a quick smack – they were still incredibly sensitive after Eric’s full-powered kick. Eric and the blond guard then each selected a tough prison cane. It was the blond guard who gave me the first stroke. The pain and shock of that first stroke are impossible to describe. The impact took my breath away and the line of pain across both my buttocks built and built to an agonising crescendo. The agony was probably worst after about 10 seconds but was bad, very bad, long after. I screamed and screamed and Eric spoke again – “35 to come, shitface – it’s fun to hear you scream – another time, I’ll probably gag you with something nasty – but for now, I’ll enjoy the noise! – anyway, it’s my turn now”.
Eric’s first stroke was, if anything, harder than the blond guard’s and it was slightly lower and in a more sensitive area. I pulled pointlessly at the tight straps holding me naked at an angle which invited a hard beating from the boy I had once abused. I became frantic and begged for mercy as the blond guard got ready for his next stroke.
My buttocks burned terribly as deep welt after deep welt was drawn across my naked flesh. The torture strokes were usually about 15 seconds apart but sometimes Eric and the guarded signalled something and two strokes came right on top of each other for extra impact.
The first dozen were basically parallel, welting in neat lines of extreme pain between the top of my crack and the top of my thighs. The second dozen were super-painful, crossing the others diagonally downwards and with the ends of the canes biting at high speed into the backs of my tender thighs. A couple of them swung agonisingly round on to my hips, and they nearly all crossed over the welts from the first dozen creating special little bleeding torture points at the intersections.
For the final dozen cane-strokes, I discovered that the spanking bench had a contraption for spreading my legs wider. Apart from being very uncomfortable, it exposed the inside of my crack and my hole to the two enthusiastic caners. They now used their canes to punish those new delicate areas – the pain was so great that I could barely even scream. I was breathless, in agony and, I thought, unable to speak.
Eric spoke – “I don’t think you enjoyed that much, shitface, but we did; it was your first prison punishment of many! You’ll be taking 50, 60, even 100, in future. There’s a bit of blood, so we’ve got you some antiseptic – just for you and to make it more fun for us, we’ve mixed it with some pepper-spray.’ With that, the other guard sprayed the punishment-liquid all over my buttocks and giggled as he sprayed it on my anus and up my asshole. Then he sneered ‘We’re waiting for a thank you, you disrespectful cunt – do you want another three dozen?’ As he said those words, the pepper spray took effect and I felt an unbearable burning on my sensitive beaten buttock-flesh, on my anus and inside my asshole. I somehow managed to croak ‘Thank you. Sirs, for caning me’.
They untied me from the spanking bench and roughly pulled me to my feet. The other guard was about to take me by the arm to escort me to the bondage table when Eric stopped him and whispered something to him. The guard then pushed me to the floor and told me to worm my way on my stomach to the table and laughed when Eric picked up a small whip to encourage me to move across the room more quickly. It stung like hell when he used it across my back and shoulders. When I got to the foot of the bondage table, Eric put his boot on my sore back and told me to beg for my next punishment – I remembered with horror what it was going to be. I cried as I said ‘Please, Sirs, tie me to the bondage table and torture my penis’.
They pulled me up and secured my wrists and ankles, to each corner of the bondage table. I was fully stretched out. Looking around, I could see plenty of ways they could cause me really terrible pain, and probably also do irreparable damage to my most sensitive organs. There were special whips and small mean-looking canes, ball crushers and ball-parachutes next to some terrifying-looking weights. There was electric-shock equipment which looked like it was made for herding elephants rather than for punishing a naked man – but I would learn in due course that it could be used use on the genitals of a naked man.
On this occasion, the other guard was opening a smallish bottle, having got down from an upper shelf some kind of very thin wire brush. Eric smiled – a smile I was quickly learning to fear – and spoke quietly into my ear. ‘Cunt, we’ve now got something special for you. We were just going to fit your cage today – and maybe show you how the spikes work – but then you made that begging scene. So here we go with something which will stay with you for a time to help you remember to obey in future.’ Eric showed me up close what I thought had been a thin wire brush. It was something far worse. He lent over me and I could feel and smell my torturer’s breath, the boy I had assaulted for three days and was now in charge of me. Eric showed me a piece of very slender barbed wire. When you looked closely, as Eric explained to me, being so thin the wire could easily, if painfully because they had no intention of using any lube, be inserted into my urethra through my pisshole. He explained that I’d experience a really horrible burning pain. But much worse was to come, he said. The tiny barbs were facing back up the wire towards the pisshole, so the real fun bit would be the second part when the guard in charge of the punishment pulled it slowly back out of my penis. ‘Those tiny little barbs will make little rips in the super-sensitive lining of your urethra. I have a feeling that we might hear some more of your enjoyable screams. Now beg for your punishment, shitface’.
I don’t know how I did it but I forced myself to say: ‘Please, Sirs, punish my penis with that wire’. ‘Do you deserve it?’ Eric asked. I knew there was only one answer ‘Yes, Sir, I deserve it’. ‘Do you deserve any lube or shall we just let the wire tear you up?’ ‘I don’t deserve any lube, Sir – I deserve to be torn up, Sir’
‘Shall we use this on him afterwards?’, said the blond guard, pointing to the bottle of think reddish liquid he’d just opened. ‘Nah – we’ll pepper-spray him if he bleeds out’. Then, turning to me, Eric explained: ‘When we do this to you again – and we’ll probably do it quite often because we enjoy it – we’ll shove the super-hot chilli oil in this bottle up your dick as a follow-up – you won’t like it much’. Both guards laughed.
The penis punishment itself, once it started, was even worse than Eric had described it. Eric held my dick tightly, intentionally digging his nails into my penis-flesh, while the guard carefully pushed the wire into my pisshole. Eric was definitely right about the horrible burning sensation from deep inside what had until then been the most private and personal part of my body, and was now being used for my punishment. I writhed and struggled but there was obviously no escape. Eric smiled – and even giggled slightly – as the wire worked its way inside me: ‘This is nothing compared with when it comes out – you’ll be begging us to leave it in there for the rest of your life’. The wire was slowly inserted about four centimetres into my penis.
The agony of removing that wire, the tiny barbs ripping the lining of my urethra, was beyond belief. It felt as if my whole dick was being torn to shreds from the inside. My stretched body somehow lifted off the bondage table in agony. Then I glanced at Eric who was watching the whole thing as the blond guard jiggled the wire to make sure it bit into me as much as possible as he very slowly extracted it. Eric was enraptured by my torture: and he was in charge of my life for the foreseeable future.
Finally, the torture of my dick – but not the terrible pain it caused – ended. Eric showed me the wire, now with blood on it and a number of tiny bits of my own pink flesh which the wire had torn from inside my dick. A little splash of pepper-spray antiseptic was so painful that I screamed frantically again. Then I felt two pairs of hands attach a cage to my agonised dick. ‘We’ve decided to show you how the spikes work later on, shitface, if you don’t find out for yourself in the meantime’, said Eric – ‘I strongly advise you to stay soft, while you enjoy the pain inside your dick’.
‘Right now, my friend needs a shit …’
