Chapter three
Eric’s words ‘Right now, my friend needs a shit’ hit home in a horrible way. I wasn’t just being cruelly punished. They were going to degrade me totally. They would make me into something filthy and as low as they could possibly make me go. I was going to be forced to eat stinking turds as they slid out of the asshole of this now-giggling, smirking, young blond prison guard. He was going to take a shit and I was going to eat his solid waste, and he knew it, and there was no way out.
They pushed me down on to the concrete floor, and ordered me to worm my way across the punishment room to the toilet box. They whipped me as I went and then ordered me to turn over so I was lying on my back. I knew it was a risk but I looked up with pleading eyes and spoke softly ‘Eric, please don’t do this. I don’t deserve this’. Eric laughed. He turned to the blond guard who by now was starting to undo his uniform trousers. ‘Did I hear a cunt speak?’, said the guard. Eric looked me straight in the eyes: ‘Listen, shitface, no one cares what you want so you’ll stop talking except to beg us for punishments and then to thank us for them. Your pathetic little pleading has earned you an extra hour’s hard labour today with special conditions which you won’t like at all. If you say anything else, we’ll put you back on the bondage table right now and repeat the punishment with the wire, twice – you’ve got plenty more flesh inside your dick which we can rip out – or are you going to say ‘sorry’ now and beg hard – really beg – to taste and chew and, only when I tell you, eventually to swallow my friend’s shit?
I realised I had no choice. ‘I’m sorry for pleading, Sirs. Please tie me into the toilet box and let me eat guard-shit. It’s an honour to eat your shit, Sirs. Please let me savour it. Please make sure I eat it all.’ As I said this, I actually cried. I blubbed. Eric looked delighted. He and the blond guard, who was now trouserless, actually high-fived. They pushed me back, brought down the neck-harness so my head was trapped, and locked it into place directly under the toilet-seat. Then they fixed my hands to the straps on each side of the box.
I watched in horror, in a kind of disbelief, as the blond guard’s naked ass lowered itself on to the toilet-seat an inch or two from my face. It didn’t go dark as I had expected because the sides of the box were transparent – I discovered that this was an adaptation made specially for me by Eric who could now watch everything from the outside. Then it started.
There was a little explosion of smelly wetness into my face and then, almost immediately, the first turd fell across my mouth. I almost couldn’t believe that another man was deliberately shitting on my face. I suppose I went into some kind of shock. My dick and ass still hurt like a furnace in hell, but for a moment I forgot them. My whole world became the blond guard’s turd. I opened my eyes and saw his crack, his hole which was now mostly brown from the turd he’d passed on to my face, and his blond ass-hairs. Then I saw, horrifyingly, that his hole was expanding to three times its former size. It gradually filled with what turned out to be a huge stinking knotty lump of shit. A turd is too small a word to describe it.
If I wasn’t to be tortured more, I realised I had to do something quickly with the smaller turd that was blocking my mouth. I bit into it. I tasted the blond guard’s shit. For the first time in my life – and with the horror of knowing that it wouldn’t be the last time, another man’s shit all at once soiled my tongue, my teeth, my lips, my taste-buds. It was like a mass of rotted garbage entering my mouth. I remembered Eric’s instruction not to swallow when the big vile mass fell on to my face. I gaped and a warm and disgusting chunk fell straight into my mouth. Some of the mass slid down the sides of my face and another piece settled on my left eye, my nose and my nostrils, which of course made the terrible stench even more overwhelming. Now I was discovering that not only does shit taste even worse than it smells, but it has a vile texture like a thick paste with – presumably semi-digested – stringy strands, bits of grit and hard chewy lumps. It was worse than everything that had gone before. The blond guard finally let rip a loud fart and a heavy splodge of disgusting runnier shit hit my nose, forcing its way up my nostrils.
As the blond guard got up off the toilet-box seat, Eric peered in at me in my special head-prison. His broad grin told me that the pleasure of giving me this punishment for him well outweighed the nastiness of the stench. ‘Swallow what’s already in your mouth, cunt’. For the first time in my life, I tried to swallow another man’s shit. I just couldn’t do it.
Eric stood over me and calmly pissed into my head-prison. He pissed on my eyes which made them sting horribly but it cleared the shit off them so I could see what he was holding: a small electro-blade, like a mini cattle prod. As he shocked the tip of my penis through the cage, he said ‘disobedient cunt’. That was what made me swallow shit for the first time. I retched as I swallowed that first turd, but I was sure by now that, if I vomited, they would torture me more. I felt the sensation of a load of shit sliding down my throat, coating it with brown waste-slime, and then felt the blond guard’s shit go deep inside me, polluting me for ever. ‘That’s a start’, Eric said.
The blond guard, still half-naked, released one of my hands so I could reach my face to push the rest of the shit into my mouth. Eric, watching me carefully, made me chew it, squeeze it through my teeth, and use my tongue to make sure that there was no part of my mouth which wasn’t experiencing the blond guard’s shit. Three mouthfuls and three swallowings. Then the worst was last: the loose liquidy shit left at the end, which was full of disgusting little lumps which released an overwhelming garbage-gas taste when I bit into them. Eric quickly caught on and made me chew them long and hard.
Eventually, when there was no more shit and no further shit-humiliation was possible, Eric and the blond guard yanked me out of the toilet box and made me stand over a drain in a corner of the punishment room while I was washed down with a high-pressure hose of ice-cold water. At one point during that ordeal, I slipped over, which earned me four extra strokes of the cane on my sore and welted buttocks at the end.
Eric explained what was coming next. He talked quietly and smiled as he talked, even giggling slightly at what for me would be the worst bits. ‘You’ve been to the punishment room now and we’ll bring you here almost every day, sometimes twice a day, from now on. Just like today, you’ll be in pain, sometimes extreme pain, when you report for work. No allowances will be made for the pain. You will spend the whole day, every day, in all weathers, moving a pile of bricks and rubble from one side of an open yard to another. This completely useless work is for hard-labour inmates who are receiving extra punishment, but they’re better off than you because they’re allowed vests, shorts, gloves and shoes. I thought about allowing you gloves for moving the sharpest rubble but decided against – why not torture your hands? I’ve also decided not to allow you shoes – I want your feet to be cut up and painful. So you will be naked. Everyone will see you’ve been caned and everyone will see your cage and everyone will see your body and know that it’s being whored out later.
‘Today, and every day, you’ll work incredibly hard under the strict supervision of one of our cruellest guards. You’ll do four hours in the morning. Then we’ll bring you your lunch which you definitely won’t enjoy. Then you’ll do another four hours in the afternoon. Today, you’ll do an extra hour, which I awarded you for pleading, with two full-size bricks hanging from your balls. When you’re exhausted and back in your cell, I might arrange for you to do some entertaining – expect a sore stretched asshole – expect to be a good bitch-boy!’
When I entered the yard through a side-door which led from the punishment room, inmates and guards stared and then applauded. They were applauding Eric and the blond guard. They had all heard about my crimes and wanted to see me totally punished.
The yard was huge. It had high bare walls and was open to the sky – and to rain and cold. I quickly saw that about half a dozen inmates were carrying the bricks and rubble I’d been told about from one side of the yard over to the opposite side about fifty metres away. There were white lines near each side and it was obvious that what was picked up from behind the line on one side had to be carried the full distance to the other side of the white line on the far side to be deposited. There was also a red line going right across the width of the yard. This separated the special punishment area where I was to work.
I quickly saw that my pile of rubble didn’t only contain bricks and builders’ rubble like the others’, but also included heavy paving stones, broken bits of barbed wire, jagged lumps of concrete and metal, and even broken glass.
A new guard grabbed my penis cage and attached a small bell on to the end of it. I yelped in pain as he handled my well-tortured penis. ‘So I know where you are, you heap of filth’, said the new guard … ‘Enjoy yourself’, said Eric.
Chapter four
I was the only inmate in my special section of the punishment yard. Two guards looked after the other prisoners and one, Eric’s friend from school, was to be in charge of me. It turned out that he was actually younger than Eric, a tall strong black boy. 18 years old and a trainee. He clearly knew all about me though, and it soon became clear that he had been fully trained by Eric. Days under this trainee’s supervision would be long and cruel.
‘On your knees, back straight’. I already knew better than to hesitate and sank to my knees at once. My new personal trainee guard waved in front of my face a heavy wooden paddle with a dozen holes drilled into it. ‘Any slacking and this paddle smashes hard into your caned ass. I’ll make you scream so loud when I paddle you that everyone in the prison will know you’re getting what you deserve for what you did to Eric and all your other victims. You’ll carry everything in that pile on your left across the line at the other end of the yard where you’ll stack it neatly – it'll be 50 metres of torture repeated again and again – tomorrow you’ll bring it all back and the next day will be the same as today, and so on and on and on. Eric says you’re not allowed gloves so you’ll work with bare hands, which will fucking hurt – I’ll check your hands after a bit and, if they don’t look sore enough, I’ll hit them hard and repeatedly, palms and knuckles, with my studded leather belt! You’ll carry loads of at least twenty kilos each, you’ll move at the double when I tell you to, you’ll hold your load above your head when I tell you to, and you won’t spill anything. Start now – and remember, filth, I’m looking for reasons to beat you’.
It was the most exhausting four hours of my life. Constant running, which was made more painful by the stiffening welts from my three dozen (plus four extra) from the prison canes in the punishment room. I was in constant fear of the 18-year-old black trainee’s evil paddle. The torture increased as my feet were inevitably cut and bruised by the sharp rubble. I managed not to injure my hands too much, but inevitably I cut my fingers once or twice and I had painfully grazed knuckles which seemed to satisfy the trainee guard when he inspected them. All this was on top of the continuing pain in my dick from its earlier internal scraping in the punishment room – I was constantly reminded about my injured dick as the heavy little bell now attached to my cage pulled at it when I moved.
I only got one break for water which I was told to lap up from an oily puddle (the other prisoners had clean water and three breaks). I was refused permission to piss – the others had an oil-drum they used when they needed to.
I don’t know how, but I made it to lunchtime. A whistle sounded and, relieved, I went to join the other prisoners to eat some nasty but apparently nutritious porridge and to piss in the oil-drum.
But I had forgotten about Eric. I had forgotten about Eric’s promise to give me a lunch ‘you definitely won’t enjoy’.
Eric appeared with his usual handsome, dimpled, self-satisfied smile. I knelt in front of him, as the black trainee guard instructed, with a straight back (Eric had made me move so I was kneeling on some sharp rubble, as he put it ‘to discipline your knees, cunt’). Eric started lecturing me: ‘My young friend here and I want you to understand the consequences of what you did to me, to the other poor kid they finally believed, and probably to many others you tricked into your dungeon.
Now, some other guards and inmates had moved over to listen to Eric – his smirking public lecture continued ‘You made me eat your cum and lick your sweat, and you pissed into my mouth, so that’s why I’m turning you into a toilet here – I loved it when you were locked face-up in that toilet box this morning– I’ll repeat it a lot and with lots of very unpleasant variations.
‘You remember you drugged my food? I’m making you eat food here that most pigs wouldn’t eat – you’ll get enough nutrition for you to work and enough for us to torture you every day, but every bit of food you get here will be disgusting – you’ll never get used to it. You’ll get some water too, but mostly you’ll drink other men’s piss.
‘I willingly stripped for you before you drugged and tortured me. Now I’m keeping you naked for five fucking long years, all the time in front of everyone, and they’ll all see that you’re beaten hard and beaten often. I see you haven’t been paddled yet but, don’t worry, you will be – when that heavy piece of wood makes contact with your ass, pieces of your skin will be sucked through those holes and pinched – I’ve seen it in use a few times and it’s agony – you’ll scream and beg as the cane welts we gave you in the punishment room come roaring back to life – your ass will be in massive pain all the time, shitface.
‘You ruined any normal sex life I could have had for a long time after what you did to me, so I’ve decided not to allow you a sex life not just during your sentence but even after you’ve served your sentence – I will enjoy, slowly and as painfully as possible, destroying your dick and balls – I’ve got five years to do it.
‘On the other hand, you will have a really nasty kind of alternative sex life while you’re here. You won’t cum ever of course – that cage stays where it is – but, as a reminder of what you did to men in that dungeon of yours, I promise you that there are men here who can’t wait to use you sexually in ways you couldn’t imagine in your very worst nightmares.’
I was close to fainting from fear. Eric and the black guard grinned.
Then Eric put down the bowl with my promised ‘lunch’. It was a mixture of scraps, many of them chewed up, scraped a few days ago from other inmates’ plates – this was, Eric said, normally given to pigs. Those vile scraps were mixed with a lump of mouldy bread. One of the other inmates was nearly sick from just looking at my ‘lunch’. The trainee guard looked at Eric who nodded to him, and then took his dick out of his pants and took a long piss aiming at the bread. It turned the hard mouldy bread into a kind of repellent yellowish dough and also made a puddle of watery gravy to go with the pieces of gristle and fat. ‘Eat it all, scum, and remember your crimes. If anything’s left, you’ll get the paddle – any bits you can’t chew, you’ll just have to swallow whole. Use your hands – you don’t deserve a spoon.’ Somehow, I ate it. ‘Next time, we’ll invite the other inmates over to add some snot and spit – they’re keen to join in, shitface’.
The afternoon was worse than the morning because I was more tired and was punished for being clumsy. I was paddled twice for slacking and, when I stubbed my toe painfully on a lump of concrete and fell down, my young trainee guard came over and punished me by stamping on my stubbed toe. I creamed in pain, but I still had to get up and start work again immediately. My agonised toe slowed me down and earned me another paddling, this time really hard and painful. Then I was ordered to carry a heavy chunk of concrete high above my head for ten minutes as an extra punishment.
At last there was a water-break, but my puddle was dry, so I was ordered to wait and drink the other inmates’ piss from the oil-drum. When I was ordered to drink, I made the mistake of hesitating. I shook my head. I sank to my knees. I couldn’t drink their mixed piss. I heard a whistle and one of the other guards came running over with a young inmate who kicked me in the stomach. Then they draped me over the jagged metal sides of the oil-drum so the top of my head was actually in the piss, and my trainee guard gave me five full-strength hits with his paddle. It sounded like two gunshots and I screamed in agony and struggled uselessly. My screaming only stopped when, on a signal from the trainee, the guard and inmate holding me pushed my head right under and I took in several choking gulps of piss.
Other men’s piss was my only drink that afternoon – I myself had to piss as I worked. As Eric said when he came back after my 4 hours, ‘I’m not allowing you any dignity – I don’t care how or where you shit and piss – but I’ll still punish you if you make a mess – you’ll get a special punishment tomorrow in the punishment room for wetting yourself this afternoon, you disgusting cunt. Not fair, is it? I don’t remember you being fair to me …’
Then it was time for my extra hour with the two bricks attached to my balls, the punishment awarded earlier by Eric for begging him not to put me in the toilet-box. It was perhaps the harshest punishment of the day. My balls still ached and were swollen from Eric’s brutal kick back in the Punishment Room. Now Eric held me in a standing position while the black guard tied a rope multiple times around the base of my balls, stretching the sack and forcing my balls painfully into the bottom end it. Then two bricks were placed in a strong plastic bag, and the trainee threaded a bungee rope through the handle of the plastic bag and attached the hooks on to the rope on either side of my balls.
Almost six kilogrammes swung from my balls when the trainee let the bag drop and kicked it. I fell to my knees and retched. Forced back on my feet, Eric reminded me that this was an extra punishment he was giving me for disobedience, so I’d better obey him and the trainee guard now and without hesitating for any reason. For a whole hour Eric and the trainee supervised me. For a whole hour, the bricks hung unsupported between my legs, bashing into my knees and thighs. Above all, they crushed my balls and made them ache continuously. Sometimes, my balls spasmed with acute pain but mostly they just ache severely and continuously, as if they were being constantly kicked and squeezed. The rope also blistered my ballsack as it scraped up and down when I moved. I was made to carry four bricks in my hands, as well as the two bricks swinging from my balls, backwards and forwards from one side of the yard to the other.
At the end, Eric handed me a bowl that someone had obviously been sick in: I could still see a few bits of greenish vomit. I was told to take it to the oil-drum and fill it with piss and to drink it. I was unbelievably thirsty so I did it. I carried a vomit-bowl to the drum of mixed piss, and I dipped the bowl into the piss and I drank that piss.
I was then told to sit on the floor to remove my weights and ropes. I groaned with the pain – from everywhere – and I was still panting from nine hours of pointless backbreaking work. ‘Shitface looks a bit hot’ laughed Eric, ‘let’s cool the cunt down’. He and the guard then emptied over my head the entire remaining contents of the oil-drum urinal.
That evening, I was given a meal by the blond guard. It consisted of soggier scraps than before, most of them chewed and spat out. This time I had to pour them on to the floor of my cell, so the guard could step in them. He laughed while I licked my scraps of the soles of his boots. Then I was hosed down and given a long painful enema.
‘We’re whoring you out tonight’, said Eric. ‘Three of the lads who were in the yard with you this afternoon want to use your holes. You’ve got to be welcoming and enthusiastic – you’ve got a tight hole and I don’t expect you’ve ever been fucked, so this should be a very painful experience indeed for you. We’ll all enjoy watching! It will definitely stretch you’, Eric giggled at his own joke and the blond guard joined in. ‘They’ll be here in your cell soon so you’d better think of how you’ll entertain them. They’ll rape you if necessary of course, but actually I want you to encourage them to use you. I’m sure they’ll want to grab your ass, balls and cock cage. Show off your body, cunt-face, wiggle your striped sore-looking ass for them. Invite them to spank you and to play with your balls – they know we tortured the inside of your dick this morning so invite them to play with your cage. They’ll definitely fuck your ass hard and, of course, or you there’s no lube.
‘Your asshole will be tortured as their young prisoner-dicks probe and penetrate as deep and wide as they can go. They’ve been told not to hold back – believe me, they’ve heard what you’re like and they won’t – your asshole and throat are both in for a nice long torture session’.
Eric and the blond guard laughed and then I heard footsteps in the corridor outside my cell …
