Chapter eleven
‘I’m sick of the sight of the cunt now,’ said Eric, and he turned over with his face on the soft pillows of that big comfortable bed.
Eric asked the blond guard to take me back to my cell. ‘On the way, pick up its pig-food. It’s in the vomit-bowl again of course. Better make the cunt carry it himself, because it stinks. It’s got the usual gristle and something nasty which looks like undercooked chicken skin: pig’s stomach lining or something. There wasn’t as much of that grey sludge as usual,’ Eric yawned, ‘so I decided to leave a pretty big lump of someone’s vomit in the bowl.’ ‘Fucking hell’, said the black trainee as he turned away in disgust. Eric laughed and added in his soft even voice ‘Make sure it eats it all, every fucking scrap, including all the sick, without a drink. Don’t even piss in it. The cunt needs to swallow it all dry with its sandpapered and bleeding throat.’
‘Grab one of the slop-buckets in the cell-corridor, one that’s empty but hasn’t been cleaned’, added Eric, ‘and get the cunt to fill it with water, but it can’t drink it if it doesn’t finish everything – it can just suffer with its tortured soap – remember: every fucking scrap.’
My pig-food was terrible. The blond guard stood over me smirking, while I knelt on the concrete floor of my cell and choked on unchewable bits of cold greasy gristle, previously spat out by some unknown inmate. My throat was in shreds and felt like it was on fire, but I didn’t even want to think about the consequences if Eric learned that I hadn’t eaten the pig-food he’d selected for me.
When it came to the vomit, it was worse than anything I’d imagined. Most of my pig-food, and even the shit I’d been made to eat, was vile but fairly bland-tasting. The vomit was not. It stank and had a strong disgusting flavour. I could see bits of semi-digested food in it, chucked-up bits of gristle, lumps of oily fat, and even some half-chewed carrot, which I now had to eat after it had been eaten by an inmate, churned up in his stomach, and thrown up mixed with bile. The very worst of it was that stinking bile which covered all the regurgitated food. All this vomit had solidified in the young inmates’ vomit-bowl, my eating bowl. After two mouthfuls, faced by at least a dozen more needed to finish it, I turned away. I couldn’t do it, whatever the punishments that would follow.
The blond guard was standing by the door which he’d kept slightly open so he wouldn’t have to smell my ‘lunch’. He noticed I’d stopped. ‘Look, cunt, if you don’t eat that all up, every scrap, including all the sick, you won’t get your water for two hours and you’ll get a more painful session than you could imagine in the punishment room after your evening rape. It’ll go on half the night, and will definitely include plenty of scraping that sensitive urethra of yours. Is that what you want? You saw how Eric gets off on torturing you, and everyone in this place, staff and inmates, supports Eric totally, so, if he wants you to eat that sick, eat the fucking sick.’
I have no idea how I did it. I forced that vomit down my tortured throat into my stomach. Yes, for the first time, but sadly not the last, I ate vomit.
A few hours later, Eric, now back in uniform, appeared at my cell door. ‘It stinks in here – you’ll be punished for that. Hell, we can’t even bring a rapist in here! Luckily, I’ve arranged for you to be raped from now on in another cell – anyway, the new cell’s better for rape because it’s got places where your rapist can tie you up. You can go on sleeping in this place with its nice stench – don’t expect anything clean in this cell, ever … ‘
Eric continued with one of his questions - ‘Did you enjoy eating that inmate-vomit, cunt? Was it delicious?’ Unfortunately I knew the answer Eric required, ‘Yes, Sir. Thank you so much for giving me an inmate’s sick for my lunch. It was tasty, Sir. And thank you for leaving it to get cold and congealed, Sir’. Eric laughed in my face:
‘You’ll get plenty more, cunt’, he said. Then he checked that I had drunk all the ‘fresh’ water from some other inmate’s emptied but filthy shit-bucket.
The blond guard appeared with the antiseptic and pepper spray mix and Eric unlocked my cage and tapped the button that re-set the spike-spring. Twenty spikes pulled out of my penis at the same time and I fell on the floor grabbing on to it. The blond guard, put on some gloves, slapped my hands away and sprayed my dick thoroughly while I shrieked with pain. Eric replaced the cage instantly.
A very young inmate – probably from the 16-18 wing, which was where the sick-bowl came from, was invited to give me a jet-wash out in the yard. He grinned like the kid he was as he aimed for my balls, making them smash into each other. When I couldn’t hold still, he and the blond guard tied me to some railings and resumed, and prolonged, the jet-wash. This was followed by my usual no-nonsense painful enema and then it was time for me to be raped.
Back in the new raping cell, a smelly thuggish guy in his twenties was waiting. Eric had reappeared. ‘This is your new whoring place, cunt. Don’t forget, we’ll be watching you as usual and these boys will give me a report and score afterwards’. Then Eric turned to the thug who, to my surprise, was now joined by the kid who had just had fun jet-washing my balls: ‘OK so you want the cunt upside down and its legs spread – sort it out then – use those cuffs for its ankles and then haul it up with that pulley – you can attach it to those two hooks – they’re a bit far apart but it’s supposed to be a punishment for the cunt anyway’. ‘If it doesn’t score ten out of ten, we’ve got special treatment waiting for it in the punishment room – you can come and join in’, added Eric.
The raping in the new cell from those two men – or, to be more exact from a vicious thug and his boy apprentice – set a new level for my whoring. They tied my legs to two hooks so far apart that I felt my muscles about to tear. They hauled me up so that only my shoulders and the back of my head rested on the floor, bringing my hole level with the thug’s hardened dick.
Without warning, the thug rammed his dirty erection fully into my unlubed hole and began fucking hard without a further thought. The angle at which he was raping me, now that I was upside down, meant that each thrust hit new places inside my hole, bruising new sensitive flesh which had been inaccessible to the men and boys who had raped me in my usual kneeling or knees-back positions. This new painful assault was made worse by the boy grabbing my dick and twisting it till it must have looked like a corkscrew of punished red flesh. The thug took his time. Then the boy took his place but finished off by squatting down and squirting his cum into my mouth, which I didn’t expect so I spilt some. Spilling meant they wouldn’t give me a good score for whoring to Eric, and that meant punishment.
Eventually with my usual 5 out of 10, I was on my way with the boy, the blond guard and Eric, to the punishment room. The thug said he was knackered but still managed to give me a full-power bruising kick in my ribs as he left.
When Eric, the blond guard, the boy and I all entered the punishment room together. the black trainee was waiting for us. So I knew what was happening. Before Eric could explain my punishments in detail, and before I was made to beg for them, I knew this would be the black trainee’s idea of the ‘horse’ torture refined with electric shocks to my balls. My knees gave way. Today would be the start of the destruction of my balls. The destruction of my penis had started on day one. Now it was the turn of my balls.
As Eric now explained ‘The only reason we are allowing you to keep any of your sexual organs, shitface, is so that we can torture them and destroy them over a long period of time – you may have balls at the end of a few years but they’ll be strange shapes, hardly recognisable as balls, and a constant source of extreme pain.
‘You’re getting what you deserve, aren’t you, cunt?’ asked Eric. ‘Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir’. ‘Good’ smiled Eric; ‘Tonight, we’re going to attach you to the hoist and then give this boy, the one who just raped you, a cigarette. He’ll be allowed to stub it out anywhere he wants on your body three times. He knows that, if you don’t scream, he’ll be punished as well, so I think he’ll do a good job. Then you’ll be untied from the hoist and you’ll crawl over to the toilet box where the boy will shit into your mouth – of course you’ll have to eat everything.’
‘And then it’ll be time for the electric horse’, said Eric. He didn’t elaborate on that. He didn’t need to. I shook violently with fear.
The blond guard and the black trainee tied my arms above my head to the hoist and secured my ankle cuffs to some rings on the floor with my legs well spread. The black trainee smiled as he told me quietly ‘I can’t wait to fry your balls on that ‘horse’’.
But now it was the boy’s turn. I was standing under that hoist, arms in the air and legs spread, completely naked, unable to move, in front of a sadistic teenage inmate.
He had obviously enjoyed raping me violently earlier while I hung helplessly upside down in my whoring cell. Now he was going to punish me with a burning cigarette, three times, and then he was going to shit in my mouth and Eric would force me to eat all of it.
He was an ordinary looking boy, brown scruffy hair, on the short side, a few pockmarks and lines on his face where I expect he’d recently had acne, and a kind of hateful sneering smile which was probably one of the reasons Eric chose him.
Eric passed the boy a cigarette from a superkings packet and offered him a light. ‘I wonder where he’ll choose, cunt – think how much it’ll hurt, wherever it is’, said Eric.
I noticed that the sadistic boy’s prison shorts were tenting while he took a long drag to heat up the cigarette. The blond guard noticed and asked the boy how much he was enjoying himself. To my surprise, the boy answered. ‘I’ve heard what this piece of shit has done. I really want to punish the fucker. Now I’ve got a chance’. With that, the boy looked directly into my eyes and then down at my groin. I knew a moment before he stubbed it out there, that my ball-sack was getting it, and it did. The boy stubbed out that burning cigarette right where my ball-sack was drawn tightly over my right ball. The viciousness of that first burn and its severity as the boy held the burning cigarette there for three or four seconds, caused me to scream until I was hoarse. When it was a bit quieter but everyone could still smell my burning ball-sack flesh, the black trainee suggested ‘if there’s actually a hole in the cunt’s sack now, we could pass the electric wire right through it instead of winding it round it’. They all laughed.
Had the boy played his best shot first? How could he give me more pain than that, two more times in two more places?
I soon knew. I actually thought the boy was just waving the newly re-lit red-hot cigarette in my face just to taunt me. Then he jammed it into my left eyelid and held it there. Even Eric murmured ‘fuck’ but then told the boy that that was an amazing idea. In terms of pain, my burnt eyelid even made my ball-sack burn seem insignificant. I screamed and screamed and it took me a couple of minutes to find out my left eye wasn’t actually blind.
What would he do for a finale? Surely there was no more pain he could cause to my dick after the spikes and anyway my cage was still on and he hadn’t asked Eric to take it off. There wasn’t much more to be done with my nipples which Eric had tortured earlier.
‘The cunt’s on hard labour, right?’ the boy asked. ‘With no remission and extra discipline’ Eric replied. The boy then squatted with his cigarette, now re-lit for the second time, and reached for my right foot ‘Then he deserves this’ said the boy. He grabbed my foot from below my ankle-cuffs and twisted it hard, so my pink sole faced upwards, and he stubbed the cigarette as hard as he could into the sensitive flesh at the very centre of the ball of my foot, on the part of my right foot I put my weight on with every step, and he held it there. The boy knew that I would inevitably tread on that burnt flesh, now smoking slightly, tomorrow and for weeks to come. Of course I yelled in pain, although at that moment, the other two burns actually felt worse. It was the days and weeks of torture which would result from this particular burn, the boy’s sadistic foot-burn, that I was now thinking about. I gasped for breath.
‘Time to eat the boy’s shit’, said Eric.
Chapter twelve
When the boy sat on the toilet-seat and I was strapped into the box below him, his bony ass reached down and touched my face. My tongue dutifully licked the entrance to his asshole as the boy got ready to shit on another person, me, for the first time in his life.
‘Wait – don’t start yet!’ ordered Eric abruptly. The boy was so surprised that he let out a fart which went straight up my nose. I couldn’t help it: I sneezed it back into the boy’s asshole. The boy stood straight up and looked down at me through the toilet seat. ‘Disgusting bitch’, he shouted and spat on me. When he turned away, standing with his shorts around his ankles, I could see quite clearly the first little piece of his shit, released when he had farted, hanging from his ass-hairs.
Eric lent over the toilet box, looked down and laughed at me ‘I love it when you’re down there, shitface, it’s so appropriate! I nearly forgot - this is a special occasion for you. After you’ve eaten the boy’s shit, you’re going to tell us what the boy had for dinner. If you get it wrong, you’ll be punished. So, you’d better fucking concentrate’, he concluded.
Eric raised an eyebrow at me: ‘Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir’, I said ‘I’ll do my best to say what the boy has eaten and, if I get it wrong I’ll certainly deserve to be punished very severely, Sir.’ Eric then spat on my mouth and blew his nose on to me – a big slimy piece of snot with a hard centre fell on to my lips from one of his nostrils – I knew what Eric expected. I stuck out my tongue, tasted the nasty salty lump, and swallowed it. ‘Thank you, Sir’.
‘Get on with it now’, said Eric to the boy.
The boy’s shit mainly consisted of one hard log and only a small amount of runny follow-up. I sucked and savoured that log but, honestly, it just tasted like a vile lump of boy-shit. ‘Well?’ said Eric. The big log had a soft warm interior, which was truly revolting. I frantically extended my tongue everywhere in the boy’s shit to find clues. I knew the normal inmates got a lot of cheap chicken mince to eat and I thought I felt a small bone – ‘I think he’s eaten chicken mince, Sirs’. Then I sensed what might have been half-digested biscuit crumbs and guessed ‘He’s eaten some biscuits, Sirs’.
‘What did you eat this evening, boy?’ asked Eric. The boy, who was still sitting on the toilet box said ‘Meat twists – I don’t think there was any chicken in them – they give them to us a lot and they’re horrible. I also had some bread – there wasn’t any pudding today.’ ‘OK, finish off, boy, the cunt knows what’s going to happen. The boy farted again and another small turd fell into my mouth which was now about an inch from the boy’s hole. I swallowed all the boy-shit, every bit, and realised that, for me, there was still a good deal of punishment to come.
‘OK, boy, the cunt’s earned another burn from a cigarette. This time, I’ve decided where it’s going – up its asshole. The cunt won’t enjoy having a scorched rectum when it’s riding that horse – not to mention when it’s next raped.’
They made me climb on to the bondage table and lie on my back. Eric stood over me: ‘Why is the boy going to stub his burning cigarette out in your asshole?’ asked Eric. I knew the only possible reply: ‘The boy’s going to burn my asshole because I was too stupid to work out what he’d eaten from his shit, Sir. I deserve to be hurt by him. Thank you, Sir’
The boy laughed ‘Fuck, Mr Eric, you’ve trained that bitch!’.
The blond guard and the black trainee stood either side of me, and the boy stood in front. The blond guard lit the boy a cigarette and handed it to him calmly (just like, I thought, he’d lit one for Eric earlier in very different circumstances).
‘Let’s go’, said Eric.
I was shaking with fear. The blond guard and the black trainee took hold of a leg each and at the same time pushed them back over my shoulders, totally exposing and stretching my asshole. The boy then drew on the cigarette for a few seconds to make sure it was red-hot. He looked me in the eyes and then, all concentration, he stubbed that burning cigarette with force into my rectum. It immediately burned a layer of skin off the right side of my sphincter and scalded horribly the tender skin on that side of my anus. I screamed frantically and tried to pull away from the guards, but they held on to my legs until the little puffs of smoke, actually foul-smelling burning flesh from my rectum, subsided, before letting go.
‘Good’ said Eric.
I heard the boy tell Eric that my hole was wide – ‘probably because of all the people using its holes’ he suggested. He asked Eric if he could have another cigarette to burn the other side of my sphincter and all down that side? I was still screaming from the burn he’d just inflicted. Eric thought about it but decided ‘No, we’ll definitely torture the other side of the cunt’s asshole soon but I want the cunt to be punished on the horse right now’.
The boy looked disappointed so Eric cheered him up by saying: ‘You can stay, boy, and watch its horse punishment if you want. And to keep the punishment burn you’ve just given it going for a bit, I’d like you to visit the cunt in its cell every evening for the next week with some sandpaper I’ll give you. I want you to scrape its burnt rectum every day, a bit messy but a good lesson for the cunt. They won’t be fun visits for the cunt to look forward to while it’s doing its hard labour during the day’, said Eric.
The boy smiled broadly and hugged himself at the happy prospect of punishing me more.
The ‘horse’ was ready quickly this time. Eric didn’t want to give me any time to recover from my most recent burn and he also wanted me to suffer when I inevitably tore the skin around the earlier burn on my ball-sack. Eric also removed my cage because it could otherwise have given my penis some protection from the splinters on the sharp ridge of the horse. They hoisted me up, ordered me to open my legs and lowered me on to the horse’s back. Eric reached over and made sure that I had one ball on either side of the ridge, which made the burn on my ball-sack even worse as it now rubbed directly on to the wood of the horse.
My cuffed hands and my swinging legs again searched desperately for anywhere to rest but of course on this instrument of torture there was nowhere.
I also realised that I had been lowered on to a section covered in small splinters which had probably been roughed up a bit more after my last ‘ride’. It was definitely worse than before. Several splinters seemed to stick straight up. Others, crushed by my weight, chewed into the skin around my ass-crack. One sharp-pointed piece of wood, too big to be called a splinter, scratched me half-way along my dick, threatening to stick right into me if I leant forward, so I had to pull all my weight back, maximising the punishment to my ass-crack and, of course. my burnt anus. I yelped helplessly when any slight move tortured some new piece of my flesh. At the same time, a dull ache started to build along my whole ass-crack which was unaccustomed to supporting my whole weight. After a few minutes, that ache built into a prolonged cramp-like pain, another unbearable part of my punishment – I swayed forward slightly to relieve it and that big pointed splinter scratched menacingly at my dick-shaft – I swayed slightly backwards and the pain from my burnt anus felt like I was sitting directly over a flame.
‘Once the cunt’s stopped moving about, we’ll start the electric shock punishment’, said Eric.
Around fifteen minutes of struggling later, I found a position where, if I didn’t move a muscle, I wasn’t being tortured with every breath I took!
‘Wire it up’, said Eric.
The black trainee and the blond guard heaved a heavy battery on to the floor in front of me. I sobbed as they attached electric cables to it and tacked them on to both sides of the horrible ridge I was forced to sit on until both cables reached my separated balls. The wires on each side were wound around the top of each ball, pushing it deeper into that part of my ball-sack. Then the black trainee produced three little electric blades. He attached them to me with small clamps, one on each ball and one on the tip of my penis. Then he attached the blades to the wire and finally connected the two strands of wire creating a circuit. The circuit from the battery now basically included both my balls and the tip of my dick.
The black trainee explained how they were going to punish me: ‘The current flows continuously from the battery but you’ll only feel it, cunt, when the blades are activated by the remote control.’
He handed the remote control to Eric.
For the next hour, I received electric shocks at irregular intervals. Sometimes nothing for a minute or so. Then maybe three or four in ten seconds. They all took turns – Eric, the blond guard, the black trainee and the boy – at the remote control.
There was a dial on the remote control to make the shocks light and scratchy or harsh and very painful – the harsh ones, which the boy preferred, sent waves of sharp pain into me – it felt like all my sex organs were being fried in oil at once. The light shocks were terrible in a different way – they didn’t hurt so much in themselves but they made my muscles spasm uncontrollably – they forced me against my will to move around – they made a hundred splinters shift in and out of the most tender parts of my body. My ass-crack, asshole, balls and dick were forced by shocks to explore new splintered parts of that horrible ridge.
The most severe shocks, which only Eric was allowed to give, using a special little red button on the control, made me jump an inch or two and crash down – brutally torturing my burnt rectum, and crushing my balls, especially punishing the right ball which the boy had burned earlier by slamming it into the roughened wood.
I was released only after my full hour and a half sentence was complete. I had to be supported to stand while Eric sprayed me with the antiseptic mixed with pepper spray – ‘the cunt’s cunt doesn’t look too good,’ laughed Eric, as he sprayed the burns and a number of painful cuts from the splinters, now made a lot more painful by the spray. Then he put my cage back on with the spikes re-set to ‘sensitive’.
