Jez, the dark-haired teenage inmate, had completely removed his regulation shorts and boxers before sitting on my face while I was tied to the bondage table. My mouth was full of cigar ash, only some of which had been washed down my throat by Eric’s piss. I still knew that I'd be caned again if I didn't do my duty when anyone in the prison sat bare-ass on my face, so I did my best to clean with my tongue the kid’s almost unwiped hole.
A couple feet in front of Jez, he could see my tortured penis, reddened and burned by the boy’s cigar. Jez lent forward, clutched my flopping dick and squeezed it hard, intentionally crushing one of the places, about half-way down my shaft, where it had been burned and a blister had started to form. I shuddered from the sudden wave of new pain. Jez then switched hands and pulled my dick sharply towards him with his left hand, painfully stretching all the newly burnt penis-flesh. In his right hand, he grabbed his pinwheel with its dozens of unyielding half-inch-long steel spikes. He poked firmly the burn on my glans with that pinwheel, instantly penetrating it with several spikes at the same time, and started to roll the wheel towards my pisshole. Even with Jez’s ass in my face, every inmate in that prison must have heard me bellowing in agony as the spikes penetrated my burnt glans.
The spikes from the pinwheel rolling back and forth pierced all the burned flesh of my glans – some of my skin, as Eric had predicted, had actually been melted by the heat of the boy’s cigar, twice as hot as a cigarette. The entrance to my pisshole was the most delicate area and the blistering and melting there was incredibly painful. The spikes clawed through the half-formed blisters at the entrance of my pisshole. It tore those blisters and then entered my sensitive burned pisshole itself. ‘Work that pinwheel’, said Eric to Jez. ‘Give the cunt a bit of back and forth and use more pressure – push into its dick’. Jez immediately obeyed. I yelled. I writhed. No one cared. They enjoyed it when I suffered. They knew I deserved to suffer.
The extreme torture from the pinwheel eventually ended. Jez rounded it off with his own sadistic flourish, lifting the pinwheel and tapping it down hard several times on my now-bleeding burnt glans. The spikes, as I saw afterwards, were red with fresh blood from my dick.
Despite the terrible pain, Eric re-attached my cage while I was still on the bondage table – he did it deliberately roughly and more tightly than usual as ‘a little extra punishment for your behaviour today, cunt’. Jez got down from my face. ‘I hope you’ve cleaned his ass and not just thought of yourself, cunt’, said Eric. Then he nodded at me. I said ‘Thank you, Mr Jez, Sir. Thank you for sitting on my face and allowing me to clean your hole, Sir. And thank you for using that pinwheel to give me extra punishment, Sir. I deserved it, Sir’.
‘Now’, said Eric, ‘to show your gratitude to the boy for burning your dick, you’ll eat the last bit of his cigar. No water, not even piss. Just chewing and eating.’ The remains of the boy’s cigar were dry, rancid and horrible. I choked trying to force that dry tobacco down my throat along with the ash that was still lodged there. My dry throat resisted the boy’s cigar but I knew that I had to somehow get through it to bring this torture to an end. Very slowly, I softened with my saliva the awful remains of the boy’s fat cigar, and I swallowed the horrible thing,
My burnt dick was killing me, painful beyond words, but I would get no respite. It was throbbing with the terrible pain in its tightened cage. I was still ordered to crawl back along the stony path to the bungalow, dragged down the steps to my basement, and thrown back into my tiny pitch-dark cell in the basement. Eric and the boy went upstairs to their comfortable rooms for hours of sex and planning more punishment-horror for me. Eric’s revenge was never-ending.
The next day for lunch I had to eat the rest of the rat. I swallowed its eyes, its teeth and its tongue. Eric made me look at what I was eating and describe it before eating it. ‘Thank you, Sir. The rat’s mouth and pointed nose have rotted more than the rest of the rat, but I can still see its sharp yellow teeth, Sir. Thank you for making me eat the rat’s face, Sir.’ ‘OK, cunt, put it in – chew it before you swallow it’. The rat’s small hard brain was particularly hard to bite into. I retched continuously but eventually forced it down with some half-rotted skin. Some inmates who had come to gloat quickly slipped away. Eric has no qualms. This was part of my punishment and it was going to be carried out in full.
It was on that day when I finished eating the rat that I started hearing more about the boy’s dog. In the evening, Eric decided to put my burned dick in the cock and ball pillory in the inmates’ quarters so that they would see how I had been punished and, of course, to humiliate me as much as possible The other inmates played with my tortured dick, spanked it, scratched it, and, frankly, tortured it some more, while it was deliberately exposed to all of them through the pillory where I was forced to stand, They knew it was no-limits with me when I was in the pillory. Two of them fucked me and others smacked my balls, but their focus was my burnt dick which was stuck through the hole at the front of that horrible pillory. Eric had to use his torture-spray for several minutes to stop it bleeding after my fellow-inmates had finished. The inmates always taunted me during their fun: this time it was - ‘Met your new boyfriend yet, cunt, wuff wuff?’ ‘What does rotweiler shit taste like?’ ‘Has Mr Eric made you lick its ass yet? Has he made you suck its dick yet?’
Later that evening, when my two-hour exposure in the pillory was over, I had to crawl back to the bungalow as usual. Just before we got there, Eric told Jonny, who had accompanied us: ‘Tie the cunt to the post’. The post was near the bungalow gates – the boy showed Jonny how to tie me by my balls forcing me on to tiptoe and then how to secure my hands and ankles so I faced away from the post with my legs, pulled wide apart, attached to rings in the ground.
Eric smiled his dimpled boyish smile and said ‘The boy’s dog, a big vicious fucking rotweiler, is coming to inspect you. It has your scent from the lead you wore the other day. Don’t expect it to be gentle with you, cunt. You look a bit vulnerable with your legs open like that – don't know how the dog will react’, he laughed as he went safely behind a wall to watch.
The boy appeared with a big ugly snarling dog straining at the leash. I shook uncontrollably with fear. The dog growled and let out a loud bark. It wanted to get at me. It was big and black. The boy released it and it charged the few yards towards me. It jumped and snarled and scratched. It leapt up and barked in my face – I could smell its horrible breath. It bit and drew a little blood from the front of my right thigh but mainly there just multiple painful nips, rather than serious bites, The dog nevertheless drew blood from my knees, my chest and somehow finally a nasty little lunge at the back of one of my wide-open thighs, which started to bleed too – the boy had spread my thighs wide, presumably with the dog’s access to sensitive places in mind. The dog sniffed my dick and balls, but fortunately left them this time. The boy finally called the dog away - ‘one word from me and next time he’ll tear you to pieces’, said the boy, ‘starting with your dick,’ he added. As an afterthought, the boy added ‘but I don’t want him to destroy your dick tonight; that would be a waste of all those burns and all that torture by Jez with his pinwheel and the other inmates tonight in the pillory’, and he laughed. In my terror with the dog, I’d almost forgotten about my poor burnt penis, but now the agony resumed, redoubled when Eric let rip yet again with his torture spray.
Released from the post, I was pushed quickly into my basement cell. It stank worse than usual. The boy thoughtfully shone his torch into the cell. I had been made to clean out my own shit and piss, so I was surprised at the growing and awful stench. Then I saw the cause. There on the slope facing me was a monstrously big, dark brown knotted dog turd. It was evil-looking. ‘We thought you’d like some company’ said the boy and laughed. Eric came down the stairs - ‘what the fuck’s going on – it’s worse than ever down here – I thought you’d made the cunt clean out its cell’. The boy showed him the turd with his torch. Eric laughed out loud - ‘You’re so fucking filthy’ he told the boy and kissed his mouth. ‘I know and I’m proud’, giggled the boy as he pushed me into my darkness and locked the door. I could hear them kissing and fumbling with each other for a minute or two, and then I heard them going upstairs.
I was alone in the dark for the night with only a stinking dog-turd for company.
The young inmates, Jez and Jonny, brought my gruel as usual to the bungalow the next morning. ‘Eric was with them when they opened my cell door’. ‘That cunt fucking stinks’ said Jonny – then they looked in and saw the huge dog-turd slightly squashed where I’d accidentally put my feet in it during the night. ‘That’s so fucking nasty ...’.
Eric didn’t care if it was nasty. He liked nasty.
‘Cunt, take a handful of that turd, put it in your gruel and mix it around’, said Eric. ‘You need to learn that the dog is superior to you – this morning, before you go to your hard labour, we’re going to show you how you’ll serve the dog. Any mistakes and he’ll bite you and bite hard.’
I followed Eric’s instructions for the gruel. I laced my own gruel with dog-shit – and then Eric made me lick my fingers. What choice did I have? I licked my dog-shitty fingers and showed them to Eric so he could check I'd licked them clean, and then I ate all of the gruel. ‘Thank you, Sirs, for bringing my gruel. Thank you, Sirs, for telling me to mix dog-shit into it – it made it so delicious. Dog-shit is the right food for a cunt like me.’ Everyone laughed. ‘The cunt’s starting to know its place’, said Eric.
They jet-washed me, this time focussing on my burnt dick, as well as my balls, and then hurried me up the steep concrete staircase. There was the boy holding the dog. The dog snarled at me but this time the boy held on to him. Then I saw the dog’s enclosure. ‘Each morning, before you go to your hard labour, you’re going to clean out that whole enclosure’, said Eric. ‘It’s an extra task.’ ‘The dog mainly pisses on those posts (he pointed to a couple of posts at opposite edges of the enclosure) so you’ll lick them and all around them. You’ll clear out the dog’s shit with your bare hands and one of us will decide whether it goes in your gruel or your pig-food or whether to make you put it in your cell. Or we might make you smear it on your face or on your dick and balls. Jonny here said we should make you stick it up your ass - nice idea - a good extra punishment’.
With all four of them looking on and grinning, I licked the pissing posts and the dirty wet ground all around them, actually sucking up a small puddle of dog-piss. I cleared two piles of dog-shit with my hands, one from some grass and one off the concrete, and put them on a piece of plastic near the enclosure’s entrance. Then I licked my hands, as instructed, and showed them to the boy to check them. The boy told me to go back into the enclosure to ‘lick those disgusting shit-smears off the concrete where you picked up the shit’. It was impossible to sink any lower than this, I thought, as I licked the dog-shit smears until the concrete floor was completely clean. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to get rid of the foul taste of dog-shit. And this was just the first morning of what Eric had told me was ‘a new task’.
‘Don’t forget’, smiled Eric, ‘if you slack at this job, we’ll get the dog to punish you’. The boy took over with the details: ‘You’ll be tied naked in any position we choose and the dog may decide to bite you. It may decide to piss on you. It may decide to mount you and fuck you. It may just decide to leave you alone as a scared little cunt. It’ll definitely fuck you one day because we've got this stuff to attract it which we'll put rtght up your nasty asshole– you'll hate it so much – in some ways it's the worst thing we can do to you, to get you fucked by a dog – what do you say, cunt?’
‘Thank you, Sirs, for making me a servant and plaything for this dog. It’s what I deserve, Sirs’
‘I’ve been training the dog on this iron fence’, the boy continued. he warmed to his torture theme, addressing me, Eric and the two inmates together. ‘You see it’s got different size holes at different heights. Whatever sticks through those holes, the dog rips off and eats. I’ve put sausages there and little packets of dog food, and stuff like that for training. If the cunt misbehaves, we can put it behind the fence and stick a bit of it through a hole – it doesn’t really need ten fingers or even two bollocks – so the cunt here had better not misbehave or bits of it might well end up being torn off and eaten, as a punishment, by the dog.’
For the first time in that dreadful prison, I must have passed out. I remember realising my fate. I was to be ripped up and eaten, agonising bit by agonising bit. I would be eaten alive by that dog, which would also fuck me and bite me whenever it wanted or was told to. I knew that I would always have to lap up its piss and eat its shit. I was quite simply overcome with the horror and I fainted. I woke under my second icy jet-wash of the day, and it was all soon business as usual again. I had been dragged down the stairs to the basement judging by the scratches and bruises. I was soon torture-sprayed and dispatched with Jez and Jonny ‘supervising’ me – with a whip each – to my day’s hard labour.
As I was leaving, I heard Eric ask the boy ‘What’s in its pig-food today?’ ‘Oh, mostly dog-food that I'd forgotten about - it's seriously out-of-date – it smells bad, so the dog wouldn’t fucking touch it and it looks filthy too, going a kind of green cover with maggots all over it. There’s some of the usual gristle and floor-sweepings. Nobody was sick last night, so there’s no new puke, but the best thing is that a couple of the younger inmates had diarrhoea all night and saved it in the vomit bowl for the cunt. There’s a gallon of the disgusting stuff – can’t wait to watch the cunt's face when it has to drink it ... ‘.
That lunchtime, after my morning’s hard labour, some of the other inmates gathered round as usual to see me deal with my pig-food, making the usual mocking ‘sick’ noises and adding comments about the kind of food that people like me deserve. there was my usual bowl of smelly rotting food, including the promised pile of very out-of-date maggot-infested dog-food. I had to eat it all and was then shown another bowl which was filled to the brim with those two boys’ night-time diarrhoea. ‘That’s for drinking instead of your usual piss-drink’, said the boy. That diarrhoea tasted worse than the dog-food and much worse than the inmates’ piss which I usually drank after my pig-food. Somehow, I knew I had to force down two sick young inmates’ liquid shit - basically a bowl full of a foul-smelling liquid with bits of turd floating in it. I tried, really tried, to drink the sulphorous liquid and the almost indigestible turd-lumps by swallowing quickly - ‘slowly, cunt, taste it’, ordered the boy. I threw up. ‘That’s a long hard caning from Eric in the Punishment Room later, ungrateful cunt’, said the boy.
Then the boy turned to the guard: ‘Make the cunt finish the diarrhoea and make it eat what its vomited up just now – then make sure you cattle-prod it on full power this afternoon – no slacking allowed – keep electrocuting its fucking balls’.
