Journey Into Night 11-20

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I soon found out: the guards pushed me towards a table in the middle of the room, bent me over it and held me down. I heard the commandant opening his trousers, then felt his stiff cock being pushed into my hole. He fucked me fast and brutally, gagged and handcuffed as I was: and when he finished with one last, violent shove and a grunt of satisfaction, filling my hole with his spunk, he pulled his cock out, wiped it on my branded buttocks and ordered the guards to stand me up. I looked straight ahead in the customary fashion: "You now just pig - you shit and piss when we tell you, you get fuck in ass when we want, and you suck and lick when we want. You obey all commands, at all times, you be OK - if not, it will be very bad for you..." he said quietly. I was much more afraid of this man than my inspector (whom I had not seen for a couple of days now), he seemed a real psychopath: in fact, I had noticed a couple of prisoners without testicles, and it was clear that he had cut them off for some misdemeanour or other. I decided it was time to show my compliance, in case he thought I was going to be rebellious: I knelt down in front of him and, walking on my knees, went round behind him and pushed my face into his uniformed arse. The guards sniggered, but he seemed well pleased with me, pulling his trousers down and then pulling my head forcefully into his sweaty crack. Being still gagged, I could not lick him to show my complete subservience, but I prodded at his stinking hole with my nose, smelling his shitty, sweaty crack. He held my head tight as he let go a couple of farts, which I naturally made no attempt to pull away from - on the contrary, I sniffed them deeply, to let him hear my appreciation...

Again the guards sniggered... The commandant turned round, looked down at me and smiled - his cock was still out, and it stank of my shithole. He pulled me to my feet by the rings through my nipples. I yelped with pain, but the gag did its job and nothing but a muffled groan escaped my lips. I felt his spunk leaking out of my hole and beginning to run down the inside of my thighs...

"Today inspector will come, so we must prepare you..." - what this meant I did not know, but it caused the guards to snigger again. I was afraid...

The room I was in was lit only by a single lightbulb in the middle of the ceiling. I could not see what was beyond the pool of light cast by the bulb in the middle of the floor - but two of the guards went towards one of the dark corners and dragged out a large wooden frame in the shape of a T. Half-knowing what it was for, I knew this was for further punishment of some kind, which I felt was unfair, since I had taken great care to show proper submissiveness to the commandant (my face still stank of his arse). But my wishes and desires were of no importance now, since life prisoners had no rights whatsoever, and I was doomed to suffer for the rest of my life...

They dragged me over to the T-frame, unlocked the handcuffs and spread my arms along the horizontal beam. However, it was somewhat higher than my shoulders, so the commandant picked me up by the waist, his uniform chafing my abused nipples and cock, while the guards strapped my arms firmly at several points to the beam. This left me suspended with my feet off the ground, causing considerable pain to my arms and shoulders when the commandant let go of my body. I groaned through my gag as he stood back to observe their handiwork. At a signal from the commandant, one of the guards went behind me and pulled my legs apart, securing my ankles firmly with rope to the vertical beam of this T-frame. This at least relieved some of the pressure on my arms. I hung naked, shaven and beaten, with my cock and balls hanging down and fully exposed. I had seen that there were several holes through the vertical beam at various intervals near the region of my ass, about 5 centimetres in diameter... now I found out what they were for...

Out of a box lying on the table, the commandant fished out a wooden bar, rounded at one end and measuring about 30 centimetres in length. He went behind me and pushed it through the hole in the vertical beam that was nearest my asshole. I flinched as it came through the hole and touched my shithole. I was unable to avoid it as he pushed it further and further till it penetrated my spunk-filled hole, stretching it wider and wider as it inexorably entered me, filling and stretching my hole beyond endurance. I groaned through my gag, but with my arms and legs secured to the T-frame, I could only accept the invasion of my most intimate opening. At a certain point, the "plug" met resistance from the hole in the frame, but a good bang with a hammer finally secured it in place. Of course, there was no lubricant of any kind, but the commandant's sperm did the job just as well - and, though I tried to push my hips forward to avoid the insistent wooden plug, eventually I got tired and had to slide backwards on the thing till it was fully inside me....

The three men stood in front of me, surveying my crucified body, toying with the rings in my nipples and cock. But worse was to follow...

The commandant again went to the table and, from the same box, took out a handful of nails, 20 cm in length and sharpened to a fine pin-point... He came towards me menacingly, making sure I could see them. I could only guess what he would do with them, but that made me panic and I began to scream and beg through my gag... which just made him and the guards laugh.

Taking the heavy hammer in one hand and one of the long sharpened nails in the other he signalled to one of the guards, who, obviously having done this many times before, held my hand open and flat to the horizontal beam to which my arm was securely strapped. The commandant calmly placed the nail in the middle of my hand and then banged it right through into the wood. My screams and groans through the gag were music to his ears as he did the same thing to my other hand. Then he looked down at my helpless cock and balls, then looked up again at my tear-drenched face: he grinned wickedly as he calmly positioned my right testicle close to the vertical beam... Then he positioned the very thin, sharp nail carefully in the middle of my ball and, with a vicious bang, drove the thin, sharpened nail right through my testicle into the wooden beam. Of course I screamed, the pain being unimaginable, but that did not stop the guard positioning my other testicle as far from the first one as possible, ready for the commandant to perform the same operation again... and again I screamed through my gag as he banged the sharpened nail through my helpless ball into the beam. Again I screamed, cried and begged through my gag, but he ignored me completely, calmly pinching the flesh of my belly, about half-way between my navel and cock, and pushed another pin through it horizontally. I struggled of course, but one of the guards just took a large leather strap and secured it around my waist, tightly binding it to the vertical beam...

Now that my body was still once more, he calmly pushed the other pins through my pectoral muscles, thigh muscles and arm muscles. I was nearly passing out with the pain, but was quickly revived when a bucket of cold water was thrown over me.

There were now two pins left...

Slowly, the commandant took my cock in his hands and firmly pushed them through the middle of it, so that they were at right angles to each other. Blood dripped from each of the piercings, as I saw when they brought a large mirror and stood it in front of me so I could see what they had done to me. I hung there, my arse plugged, my mouth gagged, hideously nailed to the wooden frame, yet fascinated that I could take so much abuse, which in turn gave rise to a strange feeling of pride in me. I wanted to be seen like this, this was what I deserved, what I needed. I hoped my inspector would come soon...

The three men went out, patting each other on the back in a congratulatory way, leaving me in silence in front of the mirror, watching as my body dripped with blood. My body was now entirely supported on its cross by my bound arms and ankles, my nailed hands and the plug in my arse....

After what seemed hours, I heard footsteps and the voice of my inspector. The door was unlocked and the commandant came in, followed by the inspector - and the big blond man from the embassy - and they both stared in fascination at me. Obviously this was what I had seen him handing over the money for - to have me punished with exceptional cruelty, for his own pleasure. It was clearly a conspiracy between the embassy man and the inspector... The humiliation of my position, hanging naked and pierced, nailed to the infamous wooden frame in front of this embassy official, was worse than I had ever known. Gagged, I could do nothing but groan in agony as his glittering blue eyes devoured the sight of my nakedness.

They came towards me, clearly delighted at the sight of my pierced and blood-spattered body as it hung there helplessly. They ran their hands over me, feeling and twisting the long pins that pierced me. From the bulge in their trousers they were clearly excited... Then the inspector did something that surprised me: he loosened the gag and took it off - then kissed me on the mouth, filling it with his fat tongue. I yielded to him as he tugged and twisted the rings through my nipples. At this moment I knew he loved me – it was a savage, cruel love, but love it certainly was. My cock began to harden, in spite of the pain caused by the nails that pierced it - and all the other parts of my body. I was proud that my pain and degradation made him excited, made him want me...

Then he stood back and, still looking at me, held out his hand to the commandant, who placed another of the infamous sharpened nails in it. Into his other hand the commandant placed the big, heavy hammer... What now? I soon found out...

The inspector came towards me, kissed me once more, then stood back a little and, in an oft-performed ritual, the commandant held my half-hard cock down to the vertical beam while the inspector banged the pin through the head of my cock into the wood. This time I screamed loudly, as the gag was no longer in my mouth. But the inspector muffled my cries and screams with his own mouth, kissing me passionately. He licked the tears from my eyes as I cried like a baby, then got his cock out and jerked off, splattering his spunk over my belly and pierced cock and balls.

As I blubbed uncontrollably, I found the words "thank you Sir" escaping my lips, followed by "I love you... I love you" almost in a whisper. For this he rewarded me with another passionate kiss, then he put his cock back in his uniform, turned round and went out, followed by the commandant. I was left alone with the embassy man, hanging in agony, with the inspector's spunk drooling down my belly and cock, nailed to the wooden frame on which I hung. I wished my inspector would take me away from all this, but clearly this was how he wanted me - and, if it pleased him, then so be it...

The big blond man took out a cigarette and calmly lit it, looking my naked body up and down.

He smiled: "So, this is what you've come to, eh? Don't think you expected it to go this far, did you?" he asked in a calm voice.

"N-no Sir," I managed to answer, sobbing.

"You realise it's only a matter of time before they castrate you...." My eyes widened in horror at this new revelation...

"N-no Sir, I... didn't think... OH PLEASE SIR, DON'T LET THEM DO THAT!" I cried and begged, sobbing like a baby now. The only answer to my request I got from him was that he took out his cock, now quite stiff, and started wanking it slowly.

I hung there in agony, my cock and balls nailed to the frame to which I was bound. Other parts of my flesh were pierced by the long, sharpened nails: my tits, my arms and legs, my belly. Blood dripped slowly from my wounds, as I could see from my reflection in the mirror in front of me...

After a time, I heard the guards approaching again: the door opened and they came in, dragging the young lad who had been brutalised on the way to my new prison. His eyes opened wide with shock as he saw me hanging on my cross in agony. They pushed him to his knees in front of me, and I understood enough of their language to know that they were telling him that this was the fate that awaited him if he did not fully comply with their wishes (the fact that I had offered no resistance of any kind was of no relevance: I still got crucified anyway...). The lad started blubbering, telling them he would do anything, begging them not to do this to him - I looked down at the naked, shaven youth as they dragged him over to the table, laid him on it with his head hanging slightly over one end of it, face up: one of the guards took his pants down, straddled his head, trapping it firmly between his buttocks.

Another guard lifted up his legs, which the first guard straddling the boy's face took him by the knees, exposing and opening the boy's hole, ready for penetration. The second guard spat on his cock, jerking it to an erection. As he pushed it into the boy's defenceless hole, the boy groaned into the first guard's stinking, sweaty arse. The first guard jerked his cock, ordering the boy to lick his hole deep... At first the boy was reluctant, but a good smack in the balls soon did the trick, and the guard seemed satisfied with the work of the youth's tongue.

After the second guard had shot his load into the boy's rectum, the first one spurted his spunk all over the boy's smooth belly and chest with a satisfied grunt. They released him, pulled up their uniform trousers and ordered him to help them drag the wooden frame on which I was impaled (it was on wheels) out into the corridor. As they pushed it along, my body swayed slightly, tugging on the sharpened nails through my cock and balls, causing unbearably sharp pains to shoot up into my brain. I groaned in agony, but they ignored me. Finally, I was wheeled into a large room, which was clearly the place where the prisoners ate their meals, as it was set out with a number of tables and benches.

Half-conscious as I hung there, I heard a bell in the distance, calling the prisoners to their midday meal. The food was served to them on tin plates, and they sat down to eat it at the various tables. They looked at me from time to time during their conversations, but since they paid no special attention to me, it was clearly a fairly frequent event. I was dying for a piss and a shit, but with my cock nailed down and my hole plugged, nothing could escape my body. My mouth was parched, and I dared to ask one of the guards for water. He smiled at me, got out his cock and pissed into a bowl, which he then held to my lips, pulling down my lower jaw, and poured it in. I was so thirsty I drank the salty, stinking yellow liquid down greedily. I thanked him, and he rewarded my gratitude by belching in my face and tugging on the nails through my tits.

The meal over, the sweaty, stinking prisoners got up and filed out, leaving me alone with the guards once more. They stood around me, sniggering and smoking cigarettes, until the commandant came in, walking briskly up to me. He quickly and unceremoniously pulled the nails out of my flesh. I was too far gone to scream, merely groaning with the pain as they were pulled out one by one. Then he opened a bottle of alcohol and iodine and poured it over my wounds: the pain was excruciating and I screamed like a stuck pig, even in my semi-conscious state. But at least I knew they would not become infected.

With the help of a couple of guards, the bonds that held my arms and legs fast to the T-frame were released, and they took me down, pulling me off the plug that was stuck up my arsehole and supporting my weight on their shoulders, since I could not have stood on my own legs as I was so weak. Waterproof plasters were placed over my wounds, a further guard against infection - highly necessary, given my filthy condition and the filthy activities I was forced to undertake.

I asked the guards timidly if I could go to the toilet, as I was now desperate and could no longer hold my piss and shit in. The commandant smiled wickedly as he ordered the guards to take me out - but instead of taking me to the toilets, they took me to one of the prisoners' cells. There I saw the young lad again, bound hand and foot and lying on the floor. The guards stood me over him and pushed me down into a crouching position over his face. Unable to contain myself any longer, I had no choice but to dump my load of hot, stinking shit on his face, pissing on his chest and belly.

The youth tried to wriggle away, but his head was held firmly trapped between the boots of one of the guards. I saw his stomach heaving as he retched, but I could not help myself as the huge load of shit erupted from my bowels and litres of piss poured out of my painful cock... I felt strangely embarrassed as I heard a couple of big farts escape from my hole in between the turds, but I was beyond caring now - I had been reduced to the position of an animal, and this would be my lot from now on, for the rest of my life.

When my guts and bladder were finally emptied, they pulled me to my feet and I looked down at the youth: the piss had flowed over his chest and belly on to the floor around him, and lumps of shit rested on his face and neck, which he shook off when the guard who had held his head between his boots moved away. The guards and commandant sniggered, but left him there on the floor with his hands tied behind his back and his legs bound together. They dragged me out, locking the cell door behind them.

I was hustled along several corridors to the guards' toilets. They pushed me to my knees between two urinals, locked a chain around my neck, padlocking it to the pipe behind my head (after handcuffing me in the usual fashion, with my hands behind my back). I was to be used as just another urinal, and the guards did indeed come in from time to time to piss, using my defenceless mouth instead of the stinking, piss-filled bowls on either side of my head (they were blocked). It was not long before I needed to piss myself, with so much of their piss being poured down my gullet, so I just had to let go on the floor (which was covered in their piss anyway).

Eventually, the commandant came in, unlocked the chain around my neck that held me fast to the pipe, and I thought I was to be released: but no, he simply laid me on the floor in the pools of stinking piss, pulled down his uniform trousers, squatted down over my face, kneeling on either side of my shoulders, spread his fat arse over it, pulled down my jaw and dumped a load of his hot shit right into my mouth, preceded by the usual stinking farts. I knew what appalling punishments this psycho could inflict on prisoners, so I chewed and swallowed every bit of the filth that came out of his guts. Eventually, he got up, turned round, knelt down again and stuffed his stinking cock into my mouth and let go a hot stream of piss, which I dutifully drank down as fast as I could. I thought my "duties" were over for now, but I was wrong...

CHAPTER TWELVE

The commandant called out to one of the guards: "Put him on toilet duty!"

With that, two guards came into the stinking piss house and dragged me through the pools of piss on the floor to one of the crappers. This was not the usual porcelain toilet-bowl, but just a plain wooden seat with a hole in it for sitting on: I was pushed down on the floor and made to lie down in the pools of piss with my head shoved under the toilet seat (I was still handcuffed). A wooden board was placed over my neck and locked into place under the seat (it had a semicircle cut out of it, just big enough to accommodate my neck). As I looked up through the wooden toilet-seat, I could see the guards smirking down at me. Then they left me there, and I knew what was coming...

It was not long before one of the guards came in to take a crap: I saw the brute briefly as he undid his trousers, pulled them down over his big buttocks and sat down to shit, nonchalantly taking out a newspaper to read while he emptied his guts. His fat arse and cock bulged down through the hole, almost touching my face. He put one booted foot on my belly and rested the heel of his other boot on my cock and balls, still painful from their piercing with nails. I groaned with pain, but he just jabbed my bollocks with the heel of his boot and told me to shut up...

With my head trapped in the shit-box, just under the guard's arse as it protruded down through the opening in the toilet seat, the farts that first erupted from his guts filled the small space with a shitty stink: I had no choice but to smell them and breathe them in. Eventually, a large turd started poking out of his hole and dropped heavily down on to my mouth and nose. It stank bad... Piss then gushed out of his cock all over my throat and mouth, followed by a couple more turds, this time a bit smaller than the first one. I did not eat them, as I was already feeling slightly sick from eating the commandant's shit. But I realised that if I was left in there long enough, it would only take a few more guards emptying their guts over my face and my whole head would be covered in shit and piss - but that was too bad, I was locked in here, handcuffed and naked for as long as they wanted to leave me here. I lay there quietly, as the guard got up, pulled his trousers up without wiping his arsehole (that would be left for some prisoner's tongue to deal with - and in any case, there was no paper) and went away.

I stayed there all afternoon, with various guards coming in from time to time to take a crap. They all rested their booted feet on my chest, belly or bollocks, paying no attention to me whatsoever as I lay there, with their shit piling up on top of my face. I knew I was nothing, that I had no rights, that the only mercy they would show me was by not beating me, or piercing me with nails, or branding me or inflicting some other unspeakable horror on my body. They could kill me if they wished, and no-one would care.

The fact that I am writing this account of my life in this hell is testimony to the fact that they in fact kept me alive. Obviously they enjoyed torturing my body and using my mouth and shithole - so long as they did so, they would keep me alive. When I was no longer interesting for them, they would undoubtedly dispose of me, like some useless piece of rubbish. And yet I knew I was born for this, to be degraded in every possible way, to suffer for the amusement of men. I yielded myself up to them now, without resistance, because they were man enough to take me and use me the way I deserved...

Eventually, the box under the toilet seat that imprisoned my head was so full of the guards' shit and piss I could not breathe, except by chewing and swallowing some of the filth from their guts that had been deposited in it. The stink was appalling, and even the guards were revolted. I was eventually released, my hands uncuffed, and ordered to clean up the mess with my bare hands, depositing it in the cesspool outside. My head, face and neck, were coated in their shit, now drying on me. As I went outside, carrying a pile of their shit in my hands, some of the other prisoners saw me and sniggered - clearly this was something they had all endured at one time or another.

When I had removed as much of the filthy brown mess as I could with my bare hands, I was ordered to lick the rest off the inside of the box and the seat till it was more or less 'clean' again. Of course, my tongue was so coated in it that I had to clear my mouth with saliva and swallow thoroughly... But the guards understood the problem only too well, occasionally forcing me to my knees and swilling my mouth out with piss from their dirty cocks. Throughout the entire day, the only drink I had had was their stinking hot piss, but I was grateful for it nevertheless.

After I had completed my cleaning work, it was time for me to be cleaned up: I was not, as I expected, thrown into the only shower in the entire prison (used only by the guards, and not very often): instead, my face was pushed into one of the blocked-up urinals, filled with stale, stinking guards' piss. If I was not to drown, I had to drink some of it as they held my head firmly down in the stinking, dark yellow liquid. I was nothing more than a toilet now, reduced even lower than the pig I had been forced to become...

Eventually, I swallowed enough of the foul, stinking liquid to be able to breathe, but my face was still held down in the guards' urinal. I heard one of the guards fumbling with his trousers and, inevitably, his filthy cock pushed its way into my defenceless hole. With my face still stuck down in the remaining piss, he buggered me fast and brutally, the other guards laughing and grunting as he did so. When he had finished, he pulled me up, pushed me to my knees and stuck his shit and spunk-smeared cock in my mouth for the usual clean-up. I looked up at him as he towered over me, but he pulled his cock out suddenly, slapped my face right and left and stuck his filthy member back into my mouth - clearly looking a guard straight in the eye was not permitted: another act of servile humility. We prisoners could look down at their boots, crotches, arses or chests, but no higher.

He pulled his softening cock out to see if it was clean enough and, being satisfied, stuffed the thing back into his trousers, turned round, pulled my face into his backside and farted. The other guards sniggered at my humiliation as I was forced to breathe in the stink of his guts.

It was now evening, and time for all the prisoners to be locked up for the night. I was taken to my cell, which was occupied by three other prisoners. The cell was tiny, there were no beds, just a pile of filthy rags on the floor which served as a bed. As the guards opened the cell door, they handcuffed me once more and pushed me in. The other inmates eyed me up and down: of course, they too were shaved from head to foot and had their nipples and cocks pierced with rings, chained together so that their cocks were permanently in a vertical position. Whenever they needed a piss, they simply had to urinate all over themselves. Once it had dried, it left them stinking disgustingly. I found out later that shitting was an equally degrading affair: they simply had to do it outside in a special area outside reserved for the purpose, shitting like dogs in front of everybody in the open air. Of course, toilet paper was out of the question, which left their arseholes encrusted in shit: this all meant that once the door to the tiny cell was locked shut, the stench of their sweat, dried piss and dirty arseholes was overpowering. But since I too must have stunk with all the piss and shit that had been dumped on me, it did not really matter - we were all less than animals, and we just got used to it...

I heard the door locked shut behind me, and stood there, handcuffed, wondering what to say or do, but I was not left alone for long...

I was the "new boy", so I was quickly put to work: they threw me down, without a word, on to the "bed" on the floor, and squatted over my face, one by one, with grunted commands to clean up their sticky, shit-encrusted arseholes. This was a luxury that did not come often - the only way they could clean themselves after days, weeks, of shitting without paper to wipe themselves was with their own fingers. A new boy's tongue was a much-prized luxury. The stink of shit and sweat as their big arses bore down on my face was overpowering, but a few smacks on my defenceless, recently-pierced balls were enough to make my tongue do its work... I had no choice but to get my tongue up their shitholes and clean them out.

It was inevitable that they would let out a few farts as they opened up their rectums to my probing tongue, but I had grown used to the stink of men's guts - this would be my position in life from now on anyway, so I had to get used to it, if only to avoid the urge to vomit that had overcome me the first few times.

I longed for my inspector to come for me - true, he had beaten me, branded me and treated me like a pig, but I wanted to show him how much I needed him... but here I was, being used as toilet paper by three men whom I had never even seen before. After the long day of torture and abuse I had suffered, I was in no position to put up any resistance, especially as I was still handcuffed.

I had eaten the guards' shit in some quantity, and my guts had by now reprocessed it - I needed a shit and piss badly now... but my face was still trapped between the big buttocks of the third prisoner, and I could not explain my urgent need....

It was inevitable: my shit began to push its way inexorably out of my hole, even though I was trying to keep it in. The prisoners just laughed as my shit came out of my helpless hole on to the "bed" between my legs. My bladder too let out its contents over my belly... but the men did not seem to care. After I had finished my cleaning duties, they just made me pick up the turds with my mouth (I was still handcuffed) one by one and drop them into the bucket reserved for the purpose, which stood in the corner. The stink from the bucket was overpowering as I lowered my face over it to drop the turds into it - my face was splashed with the frothy piss they had deposited into it previously.

These men had been convicted of violent crimes - they were probably murderers - and since I was defenceless against them, I decided that I had better show them that I realised my position at the bottom of the "ladder": once I had finished dumping my own turds (recycled guards' shit) in the bucket, I remained on my knees and kissed their sweaty, stinking feet, licking between their toes to clean them up. They seemed pleased with this, and allowed me to sleep between them - of course, the opposite way to them, so that my face was pushed into one of their arses. If I turned over, my face would be pushed up against the cock and balls of one of the others, stinking as they were of dried piss and cock cheese.

As the night progressed, it was inevitable that one of them would need a piss, so he just stuck his sweaty cock in my mouth and let go. I drank it all down of course - I was now used to being nothing more than a toilet, both for prisoners and guards. It was also inevitable that they would fart during the night, and of course my nose and mouth were the appropriate receptacles for the stink of their guts. The arses and cocks of these murderers and robbers were the right place for my face. The stink and taste of their sweat, shit and piss would for ever be in my nose and mouth.

As I drifted off to sleep between them, I looked back over my degradation: I had been stripped of everything - my dignity, my clothes, my hair - I had been savagely beaten (to which the marks on my buttocks, back and legs bore witness), branded on the buttocks, fucked endlessly like an animal in heat, used as a toilet and crucified. The only thing they hadn't done to me was kill me - but although my life was now a living hell, I was still grateful to be alive. But my humiliation was not over....

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Next morning, after a night of stinking arses farting in my face and cheesy cocks discharging their piss into my mouth (so much so that I had to get up in the night several times to empty my own bladder in the bucket – needless to say, when I got back into the 'bed', my head was pushed down the bottom end, next to the prisoners' cocks and bums...), I was assaulted by their morning erections as dawn broke, with their stiff cocks nonchalantly shoved up my arse and into my gob to discharge their loads. I was just a receptacle for their spunk, piss and farts. As the light filtered weakly through the small window, a couple of the guards on night duty sauntered over to the bars of our cell to watch me being buggered at both ends: they got their cocks out and slowly jerked them, enjoying the spectacle (which the prisoners knew they would, shamelessly performing to their satisfaction). Of course, once all four prisoners had finished filling me with spunk, I was pushed forward to the bars on my knees to offer my mouth to the guards' stinking cocks so that they could blow their loads into me too.

When they had finished, they just shoved their cocks back in their trousers, did up their flies and walked away. My mouth tasted of cock cheese and spunk, so when the guards brought our 'breakfast' (some bread and very strong coffee) I did not have much appetite. However, the breakfast I did get was not the one which the prisoners were taking...

The strong coffee was having its effect and, without warning, one of my cellmates just threw me to the floor face up, squatted down over my face, planted his arsehole over my mouth (he held down my jaw) and dumped a load of hot shit into it, preceded by a couple of big farts. I chewed and swallowed the stinking contents of this murderer's guts as fast as I could in order not to choke, but it was a big load of turds, and it was not easy. After a couple more farts, he moved slightly backwards (after making sure I had licked his hole as clean as I could with my shitty tongue) and pushed his cock into my mouth, letting go more hot, stinking piss. My nose was now firmly jammed into his arsehole, and it was not long before he farted again as he pissed. Since my mouth was being used and I had to breathe, I was forced to inhale the stink of his guts down into my lungs.

When he had finished pissing, he grunted, stood up and walked away without looking down at his 'toilet'. I lay there submissively, expecting to be used again, but the men ignored me, carrying on their conversations as though I didn't exist.

[I must break off writing, as the inspector has brought in a couple of friends and wants to beat me in front of them....

....

I am writing again, with difficulty, immediately after being beaten, as ordered by the inspector. I was hung upside down in the cellar, with a heavy weight attached to my bound wrists, and gagged with the dirty, sweaty socks of one of his friends. I was caned on the front and back of my thighs, my buttocks, belly, back and tits by both of his friends at the same time, while the inspector wanked his cock. He did not cum. I am trembling and tears still fill my eyes as I write - the inspector has ordered me to write in all these details... As I look down, I can see that my pectorals, belly and the front of my thighs are viciously striped from the caning - God only knows what my ass looks like. I must stop again, as I am to be fucked over the table I am writing at...

My asshole has been savaged by the cock of one of the inspector's friends. As I sit writing, spunk oozes out of my hole. After the fucking, the cock was unceremoniously stuffed into my mouth so that I could clean the shit off it. There was only spit for lubricant, and I feel as though I have been split in two...]

After I had serviced the guards' stinking cocks through the bars of my cell, I turned round to look for my piece of bread, and a cup of coffee to wash away the foul taste of shit, piss and spunk from my mouth. I could see one of my three cellmates sitting on the shit bucket, obviously taking a dump. After a couple of farts and satisfied grunts, it was obvious that he was emptying his guts. The stink hung heavy in the small cell... As I looked towards the coffee pot, I could see that there was no bread left, and thought they had eaten my share...

"No bread?" I asked timidly.

A smile broke out on the unshaven face of the thug who was taking a dump...

"You want bread?" he asked, still grinning.

I nodded uncertainly and he got up off the bucket (without wiping his ass of course), came towards me and clapped one of his big, gnarled hands round the back of my neck and shoved me unceremoniously towards the bucket... There, swimming in his piss and half-buried by his still-steaming turds, was a piece of bread - obviously, MY bread...

"You want eat?" he grunted - and without waiting for my reply, just shoved my face down in the mess and held it there...

"EAT!" he barked, kicking me in the balls from behind as I knelt on the floor with my knees apart. The pain shot up from my cock and balls, exploding in my brain, so that I involuntarily opened my mouth to scream. Of course, it immediately filled with the piss and shit in the stinking bucket. I tried to pull my head out of the mess, but it was just shoved down again by his foot...

"EAT BREAD! NOW!" he barked again.

With my hands still cuffed behind me, I was defenceless, so - not wanting any more damage to my balls - I slowly opened my mouth, snaking my tongue out to find the piss-soaked, shit-streaked bread that was to be my breakfast. I clamped my teeth into it and pulled it out of the mess, kneeling up to show that I had obeyed him. I started chewing – not difficult, as it had become very soft, thanks to being soaked in the prisoners' piss.

However, this meant that a piece broke off and fell to the floor as I chewed. I was glad, because that bit was very shitty... But that did not matter to the thug whose ass had been in my face all night and who was now supervising my 'breakfast'...

"EAT!" he barked again, pointing to the shitty bread on the floor...

Slowly, I bent forward and opened my mouth to pick up the filthy thing and eat it - I could not use my hands, of course, as they were still cuffed behind me.

My stomach began to heave as I chewed the bread that was now soaked in the prisoners' piss and covered liberally with my tormentor's shit. But I managed to swallow it all down. When I had finished, I looked up at him, towering over me with his tree-trunk legs, his shaved, unwashed body glistening with sweat... He just grinned down at me, turned round, pulled my face into his ass and farted loudly into my helpless nose and mouth.

I gained some small satisfaction from the knowledge that this shit-encrusted ass would soon be bent over the table getting a vicious caning from the guards in as was the custom every morning (in fact, the fading stripes from yesterday's caning were still visible on his big buttocks as I looked up with my mouth and nose still held firmly in his stinking crack.

After he had farted, he still held me in there...

"YOU... YOU CLEAN ME... NOW!" he barked again, in his own language of course, which I was now beginning to understand.

My tongue came out and did its duty, cleaning all round his sticky, sweaty, shithole which had been taking a dump just ten minutes before. He grunted in satisfaction, pushing out his hole so that my tongue could get inside and do its work properly.

As I did my 'work' I realized that this would be my lot for the rest of my life - that from now on, the filthy cocks and asses of all these men, both prisoners and guards, would be higher than me... that I would be made to show respect to their filth, their foulness, that my position was lower than their excrement, their spit, piss and sweat... and that this was the life to which I was now condemned by my own act of foolishness, but from which I could now never escape... It was a journey into darkness, into the abyss... into night.

With my face still held in the prisoner's ass crack, my tongue doing its duty, I heard a key turning in the lock - the guards had come to take the prisoners for their caning...

The first one they took was the one whose hole my tongue was currently cleaning. The guards just snapped their fingers in his direction, and he let go of my head, walking slowly towards the cell bars. Two guards grabbed him, each taking an arm, hauling him naked and shaved as he was to the table, pushed him down over it while two other guards grabbed his arms and held them down over the table, stretching him forwards as they did so.

Nothing happened for a few minutes, then 'my' inspector entered the room from outside, walked quickly up to the table, on which three or four canes of different sizes and weights were lying, took one in his hand, swished it through the air and put it down again, taking another, heavier one, which seemed to satisfy him more. Then he nodded to the guards that he was about to begin, at which point they held the victim's arms down more tightly than before.

The inspector stood to the side of the prisoner's helpless buttocks and without more ado gave the prisoner's big ass twenty vicious cracks of the cane without stopping. I see from the bulge in his trousers that the inspector was getting excited. The inspector was the man for whom I had sacrificed my life, and I was pleased that he took pleasure in such activities... if he was happy, then I was happy...

After the customary twenty strokes of the cane, he threw the cane down on the floor, hurriedly dropped his trousers, took his now stiff cock in his hands and pushed it into the helpless prisoner's shithole, which was still moist from my spit.

The prisoner groaned again as he was invaded, but of course it was useless to protest. The inspector fucked him fast and brutally, shooting his load into the helpless hole between the man's beaten buttocks.

My heart missed a beat as he turned towards our cell, his cock still in the man's hole, looked at me and snapped his fingers, beckoning me forward... One of the guards came and dragged me out of the cell and pushed me to my knees behind the beaten prisoner while the inspector pulled his softening cock out his hole. I saw it was streaked with shit and spunk as he pulled down my jaw and stuffed it into my mouth for cleaning. I was grateful to be able to do this for him, even though it was another man's hole that he had fucked. It would have been too arrogant of me to suppose that he would want to fuck MY hole - I was dedicated to HIS pleasure, not my own...

I dutifully cleaned the inspector's cock and balls. He looked down, checked that I had done my duty properly, then pulled up his trousers stuffed his cock back into them, fastening his fly buttons. Then he snapped his fingers, pointing towards the prisoner's ravaged hole, now leaking spunk, tinged with brown.

I hesitated for an instant - the prospect of cleaning out the prisoners hole again, now filled with spunk made me feel nauseous. But that moment of hesitation was too long for the inspector, who immediately grabbed the cane with which he had just beaten the prisoner, signalled to the guards, who picked me up and threw me across the table next to the prisoner and immediately started slashing at my helpless buttocks, bringing the cane down mercilessly till I screamed and cried like a little boy. I lost count of the number of strokes, it seemed to go on for ever. But eventually, the inspector stopped and shoved me once more to my knees behind the prisoner's beaten backside.

I did not hesitate this time, but plunged my face into the man's stinking crack between his viciously striped buttocks and licked frantically at his smelly hole, now leaking spunk and shit. I was glad to be able to lap up my inspector's spunk, it was his gift to me and I was grateful, even though I had to swallow it down with the prisoner's dissolved shit. The prisoner grunted in satisfaction as my tongue probed his stinking, fucked hole. I was glad to obey my inspector's commands........

When I had finished to his satisfaction, he pulled my shaved head out of the prisoner's crack and signaled me to stand up. I did so and stood before him, my hands still cuffed, looking humbly down at his boots. He came towards me, put a hand under my chin and raised my face. I was still tearful from the pain of the caning he had given me, as he pulled down my jaw and spat in my mouth as a sign that he was pleased with me...

Chapter 14

As I looked towards the coffee pot, I could see that there was no bread left, and thought they had eaten my share...

"No bread?" I asked timidly.

A smile broke out on the unshaven face of the thug who was taking a dump...

"You want bread?" he asked, still grinning.

"You want eat?" he grunted - and without waiting for my reply, just shoved my face down in the mess and held it there...

"EAT!" he barked, kicking me in the balls from behind as I knelt on the floor with my knees apart.

The pain shot up from my cock and balls, exploding in my brain, so that I involuntarily opened my mouth to scream. Of course, it immediately filled with the piss and shit in the stinking bucket. I tried to pull my head out of the mess, but it was just shoved down again by his foot...

"EAT BREAD! NOW!" he barked again.

"EAT!" he barked again, pointing to the shitty bread on the floor...

Slowly, I bent forward and opened my mouth to pick up the filthy thing and eat it - I could not use my hands, of course, as they were still cuffed behind me.

After he had farted, he still held me in there...

"YOU... YOU CLEAN ME... NOW!" he barked again, in his own language of course, which I was now beginning to understand.

With my face still held in the prisoner's ass crack, my tongue doing its duty, I heard a key turning in the lock - the guards had come to take the prisoners for their caning...

My heart missed a beat as he turned towards our cell, his cock still in the man's hole, looked at me and snapped his fingers, beckoning me forward...

One of the guards came and dragged me out of the cell and pushed me to my knees behind the beaten prisoner while the inspector pulled his softening cock out his hole. I saw it was streaked with shit and spunk as he pulled down my jaw and stuffed it into my mouth for cleaning. I was grateful to be able to do this for him, even though it was another man's hole that he had fucked. It would have been too arrogant of me to suppose that he would want to fuck MY hole - I was dedicated to HIS pleasure, not my own...

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The prisoner grunted in satisfaction as my tongue probed his stinking, fucked hole. I was glad to obey my inspector's commands........

The Inspector snapped his fingers at one of the guards, mumbling something and nodding towards the other room, where I had been 'tried' by the Magistrate. A minute passed, and the guard emerged from the room carrying two semicircular halves of what was obviously a steel collar. He was also carrying the unjoined halves of what I found out later were wrist and leg irons...

More muffled conversation between the Inspector and the guards, one of whom went out into the yard while I was thrown back in the cell together with the prisoner whose ass I had just cleaned, still handcuffed and with my ass throbbing from the caning. My mouth was still permeated with the taste of his ass and the Inspector's spunk; I felt exhausted and sank down on my haunches in a corner of the cell, eyed all the while by the recently-thrashed and fucked prisoner. I did not want to meet his gaze, so I looked down between my legs at my shaved cock and balls, at the heavy ring with which it had been pierced, which was permanently attached to the ring in my navel...

As I looked down, I heard the sounds of the other prisoners getting their daily thrashing - the statutory twenty strokes, delivered with unremitting severity by the Inspector. The other prisoner, whose ass I had just cleaned out, then did something that surprised me: he came over towards me and sat down on his haunches next to me. He was not handcuffed as I was, and put his arm around my shoulder. I felt embarrassed, still tasting his shitty asshole in my mouth. I did not dare to look at him, but looking down at his big feet and thick calf muscles I could see that he was of peasant stock, used to heavy labour from an early age. I guessed he was aged about 40 or so, but being completely shaved like me it was hard to tell. We listened together in silence as the other prisoners were given their daily caning. With his free hand, he cupped my chin and raised my face towards his. The hand that had been on my shoulder then held my head firmly as he brought his to mine and kissed me - hard and rough, his thick tongue probing my mouth and filling it, tasting his own asshole as he did so. The sounds of prisoners' asses being caned one after the other continued as he continued to kiss me, giving me no chance to withdraw as his left arm held my head in a vice-like grip. I could see his stinking cock out of the corner of my eye beginning to throb and grow - indeed as the cheesy head began to push its way out of his thick foreskin I could smell it - days of piss and spunk and sweat. Even as I breathed his stink, including the sweat from his now dripping armpits, my mouth was filled with his tongue and spit as the other prisoners groaned under the heavy cane thrashing their buttocks. It was a strange act of affection by this big rough man whose filthy ass had so recently been caned in front of my very nose and whose hole I had been forced to clean out with my tongue. As usual, I was defenceless with my hands cuffed behind me, but I had grown used to my helplessness and no longer resisted the onslaughts of these men, both guards and prisoners for whom I was just an object to be used...

My own cock betrayed me, growing stiff, although restrained by the ring in my navel to which it was locked. My new-found 'lover' saw it of course, as no part of my body could be hidden any longer from the eyes of others (I had long forgotten what it felt like to wear clothes), and he gently toyed with my ringed nipples, rendering me even more helpless as the dark, depraved emotions that subdued my entire being took over, sending my blood pounding through my veins, my poor cock straining to escape its imprisonment... He grabbed my balls and tightened his huge fist around them, squeezing till I screamed into his mouth and tears began to course down my face. My screams were clearly music to his ears, and only served to excite him further. I tried to pull away, but with his left arm gripping my neck so hard, his right hand practically flattening my balls between my open haunches, I had no choice but to suffer as the smell of his sweat, cheese and stinking ass engulfed me, drowning me in pain and filth....

Suddenly, he released his grip on my balls and pushed me away from him, so that I fell on my side, doubling up in foetal position in a vain attempt to protect my defenceless balls. My sobbing gradually stopped as the pain subsided, and I permitted myself to look up at him as he stood over me, smiling down at me... Then he planted one of his big, dirty, sweaty feet on my face and ordered me to lick, as the other prisoners watched. I noticed that the beatings had stopped, and the prisoners in my cell were rubbing their asses to relieve the pain... their buttocks were all well striped with big red welts... The smell of my 'lover's' stinking foot brought me back to reality as my tongue found its way between his filthy toes, sucking out days (maybe weeks) of sweat.... Then he changed position, and his other huge, stinking foot was planted firmly on my face so that my tongue could do its duty.... A few of the beaten prisoners were now standing around me, sniggering as they rubbed their asses, still trying to relieve the throbbing they must have been feeling.

When my 'friend' had decided that his foot was sufficiently cleaned, he removed it, sniggering with a couple of his mates and walked away without looking back at me. My balls were still throbbing, so I curled up in foetal position once more to protect them. It was not long before I heard the inspector's voice once more, followed by the sound of the key in the lock as a couple of guards entered the cell and hauled me to my feet. They dragged me out into the yard, where I saw an anvil next to a brazier of glowing coals. I began to sweat with fear, half knowing what was coming - and I was not wrong. The collar, wrist and leg irons I had seen earlier were lying on a table next to the anvil...

The inspector snapped his fingers and I was pushed to the dusty ground and one of my ankles was held firmly up over the anvil. One of the half-rings was placed underneath it and the other half on top of it, bringing both the flattened ends together. A red-hot rivet was pulled out of the fire with tongs and dropped through the hole and quickly hammered, flattening both ends of the rivet so that it could not be removed from the ring halves. Then another rivet was taken out of the brazier and similarly banged through the holes other side of the ring halves, so that the ring was now impossible to remove... ever. The heat from the rivets travelled through the ring round my ankle and began to burn, reminding me of the brands the inspector had planted on my buttocks. Though the pain made me groan, it was not as great as the branding...

The same procedure followed for my other leg, then my wrists. Then came the collar - I had to sit on my haunches, sideways on to the anvil for this, as first one side of the collar was riveted, then I was turned to face the opposite direction as the other side was riveted. The heat, as with the other irons, travelled through the collar, getting uncomfortably hot... I was now in irons that could never be removed. It would not matter now if I escaped or was released, these heavy iron rings would now mark me out as a prisoner, a slave, for the rest of my life. Tears of pity and shame welled up in my eyes as I realized how low I had sunk... Death would be my only release from this degradation...

As I looked down at my shaven, ringed branded and beaten body I knew that somehow this was my destiny, my place in the natural order of things. I also noticed that there were rings set into my leg and wrist irons, and the front and back of my collar - clearly this was so that I could be secured in various ways, depending on what pleased my inspector or the men who would have charge of me.....

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Inspector snapped his fingers at one of the guards and nodded silently... The guard produced a heavy padlock and came towards me, as did the Inspector. The Inspector cupped my chin in his hand and raised my face towards his, while the guard pulled my arms behind me and snapped the padlock through the rings on my wrist irons, once more locking them behind my back. The Inspector pulled down my jaw and spat in my mouth again, to show he was pleased with me. He released my jaw and I swallowed his spit gratefully. Then he grabbed my nipples and twisted them viciously, looking straight into my eyes and smiling. My face contorted in pain, but I did not resist him (what good would that have done anyway?) as he twisted them first one way, then the other. Tears came to my eyes as I looked into his - it was a silent pact between us: I would be his possession for ever, pain and degradation would be my lot, purely for his pleasure, which would be my only purpose in my worthless life from now on... to give him pleasure. As a man I no longer existed; my body belonged to him, my existence one of suffering. We exchanged these thoughts in silence - oh yes, he was thinking exactly the same thoughts as I was as we looked into each other's eyes.

My reverie was broken when the Inspector turned away, again snapping his fingers to one of the guards, who then dragged me over to a horse and cart, motioning me to climb on at the back. This was a bit difficult to do, with my wrists locked behind me, but I sat on the rough wooden boards, then swung first one leg, then the other up, so that I was 'on board'. The owner of the cart (a farmer, as I was soon to discover) then grabbed me under my armpits and pulled me further into the cart, scraping my beaten arse along the rough wooden boards (which in turn made sure I got a good few splinters in my tender flesh).

My leg irons were locked together and a chain put through the ring on my collar, which was then padlocked to a ring in the floor of the cart. Clearly, there would be no escape for me...

The farmer and the Inspector exchanged a few words, then the farmer took the driving seat and with a crack of the whip, the horse moved on with its sub-human cargo. As I was to discover later, farmers in this region often made a deal with the prison to send them prisoners to work on their farms when they were short of manpower. The Inspector made a modest, but steady income from this trade in human flesh. I belonged to him now, anyway, so it was only right that he should be able to dispose of me as he saw fit.

The cart rumbled on through the dusty countryside, the sun beating down mercilessly on my naked, shackled body. I felt somewhat embarrassed – after all, it was one thing to be naked in a prison to the full gaze of the guards - but it was another thing to be naked in front of an ordinary man from outside... The embarrassment would be even worse when we arrived at the farm, no doubt.

After a while, I grew very thirsty, and asked the farmer for water. He looked round at me, then turned away again, ignoring me. After another half hour, I desperately needed to drink, as the heat was so intense. The farmer looked back at me again, then pulled on the reins and stopped the horse. He stood up and climbed into the back of the cart and, without any ceremony, planted his filthy boots on either side of my shackled legs with his crotch so close to my face I could smell the sweat, dried piss and spunk from his long-unwashed cock and bollocks. He unbuttoned his flies and pulled out his gnarled and thickly-veined cock. He pulled back his heavy foreskin and aimed the stinking, cheesy head of it at my face. I opened my mouth and drank gratefully as a heavy stream of his stinking piss (it was very, very strong) landed on my face and into my mouth. I had grown used to being a toilet, so if this was the only way to quench my thirst, I would be thankful and drink without complaint... A few spurts missed my open mouth and ended up on my face and chest, dripping down to my ringed cock and balls. As he pissed, he farted a couple of times, but mercifully I was saved the horror of having my face shoved into his filthy crack to get the full benefit of them in my mouth and nose - for now...

The farmer stuffed his filthy cock back into his equally filthy trousers, and without a word returned to his seat, cracked the whip and we proceeded on our way again. I realized from this episode that farmers who took on prisoners to work on their farms were used to treating them exactly as they had been in prison - as toilets, lumps of flesh that were less than human, to be used and abused in any way they wished, that was what they paid for, after all. I did not fancy the idea of getting on the wrong side of this man - he was very big and heavy and any whip wielded by his big fists would do terrible damage. He was big in every way, I thought as we went along – big fists, big feet, big thighs, big ass, big cock, and all no doubt unwashed for God only knew how long. Used as I was to the stink of men by now, I hoped that the farmer would not be using me for any other purpose than working in the fields...

Slowly, the cart wended its way along a dusty track, far from any normal road, deeper into the rocky, moon-like mountains of this region, with no sign of life anywhere. Finally, I saw a small, white building in the distance, and it became clear that the track was leading to it - this was the 'farm' where I would be put to work. The track wound up towards it – it got rougher as we neared the building, and my beaten buttocks, with the numerous splinters stuck in it, kept reminding me of the pain to which I would be subjected for the rest of my worthless existence. We finally arrived at the low, white building after an interminable climb up along the rough track, and the cart came to a halt. The farmer's piss had dried on my body and face and I stank in the heat. I was again dying of thirst, but I did not fancy another gallon of the farmer's stinking piss, so I kept silent... He got into the back of the cart, and unlocked my ankle irons and the chain from my collar. He pulled me to my feet by the chain through the rings in my nipples, which elicited a groan of pain from my parched mouth, and pushed me towards the back of the cart, from which I had to jump down. It was not easy with my hands shackled behind me, and I fell over in the dust when I landed.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Once again, he pulled me to my feet by the chain through my tit rings and pushed me towards a half-ruined shack that was to be my home for the next few weeks. As we walked towards it, two teenage lads came out of the house and exchanged greetings with the farmer, who I soon learned was their father. Again, I was embarrassed at my nakedness in front of them, and also at the fact that I was not only naked, but with irons permanently attached to my neck and limbs. The boys sniggered and joked with each other at my expense, pointing at me and laughing at me. Like their father, they looked as though they had been carved out of the surrounding rocks - big and heavy from years of manual work.

The farmer attached the chain to the ring in my collar and gave the other end of it to the lads, with instructions about putting me to work in one of his fields. He then climbed back on to the cart and drove off back down along the dusty road, leaving me alone with his two beefy sons.

Laughing and joking, they dragged me along behind them for some distance over rough, stony ground, which hurt my bare feet. They were wearing nothing but a pair of overalls and stout leather boots, but they were enough to protect them from the sharp stones and thorny bushes we had to walk through. My naked body was becoming more bloody as the thorns and stones pricked and cut me. I tried to slow them down by pulling on my chain, but they soon dealt with that problem by locking my wrist irons together behind my back again. Sniggering at their helpless victim, they dragged me even faster, deliberately pulling me into patches of stinging nettles that were so high my legs, cock, ass and belly were stung repeatedly, so that I felt I was on fire. Tears fell down my face as I struggled to keep up with them while trying to avoid the stinging nettles and thorny bushes... but it was no use, they always tugged me into them, laughing and sniggering at my suffering.

I stumbled along behind them, looking at the backs of their thick legs and buttocks, now clearly visible under their dirty overalls, which, because of the heat, were now soaked with sweat, especially between their buttocks...

After about half an hour of this torture, they stopped at a small stream - the only water for miles around - and cupped their hands in the cool running water to drink. Dying of thirst, I also came forward and knelt beside the stream to drink. Of course, since my hands were locked behind me, I could not drink as they were doing, so I just bent down to drink like a dog... but even this simple act of mercy was denied me: laughing their heads off, they kicked me over into the dust, not allowing me to drink. I begged them for water, but they just laughed at me again and, sniggering at each other, got their cocks out of their overalls and just pissed on my face, telling me to hurry up and drink, because that would be all I would drink from now on... I opened my mouth and drank their foul, stinking piss gratefully as they skinned back their uncircumcised cocks, revealing days of dried spunk and piss under their foreskins... Their piss was hot, salty and stank - but I was so thirsty in this heat that I would have drunk horse piss...

I kept wishing the inspector would just take me home with him and let me be his prisoner for ever - but he had rented me out to these filthy, unwashed peasants to work as they saw fit. I did not know how long that would be, and no doubt I would be used and abused by them in this desolate area. Clearly, they were used to hiring cheap slave labour from the prison, and these two lads (I guessed they were aged about 15/16) made maximum use of the helpless men put at their disposal...

Once the flow of piss from both their foul cocks had stopped, I licked my lips and thanked them (I did not want to get on the wrong side of these two - they were big, strong and nasty, and a whipping from them would be no picnic... They sniggered again, one of them farting and saying he needed a crap. Of course, I knew the score by now (just as they did), but the thought of having his big, sweaty ass dumping its foul contents on my face was making me feel sick... With my hands locked behind me, I was in no position to offer any resistance, so when he undid his belt and dropped his overalls, kicked off his boots and stepped out of them, I just lay there as he stood over me facing my feet and lowered his big, sweaty ass over my face, kneeling on either side of my pinioned arms. He reached back between his legs and pulled open my mouth, immediately planting his stinking shithole over it. Then he leaned back with his full weight on my face, which kept my jaw open, as he let rip a couple of big farts. The stink of his sweaty, unwashed ass mixed with the farts filled my nose and mouth, and I had to breathe them in if I was not to suffocate under the weight of his big buttocks engulfing my face.

After a couple of grunts, I could feel his hole opening and the tip my tongue felt something hard pushing its way out of his guts. I did not want to eat his filth, but if I didn't, I would choke... So, once more my mouth served as a toilet as his big turds pushed their way inexorably downwards into it... I chewed and swallowed as best I could, though it was not easy with my jaw held open by the sheer weight of his body. His brother stood behind him, watching with fascination as the naked slave grunted and groaned as its mouth was filled again and again with his brother's filth. The turds got smaller, interspersed with a few farts, and it became easier to chew and swallow, as was expected of me. Finally, he got off me, his hole still streaked with shit, stood up and put his overalls and boots back on. They laughed as they pulled me to my feet again, dragging me on to the field where I was to be put to work. Since I was not allowed to drink water, I could not wash the taste of his filth from my mouth, and it remained in my mouth and nose for the next few hours... and no doubt my mouth and nose were still streaked with shit, which dried on my face very quickly in the baking heat of the sun.

Still with my wrists locked together behind me, I stumbled through the rough ground and thorny bushes, tugged along by the chain attached to my collar. The weight of the irons got heavier with each yard I was dragged along. I needed to piss badly, but they did not stop, so eventually I had to let it go - which meant that, since the head of my cock was locked to the ring through my navel, the piss ran down my belly, balls and thighs as I stumbled along... which made the lads snigger again at my degradation.

Finally, we came to a field - if you could call it that: it was a small area of rough ground surrounded by a low stone wall. I was pushed in through the rickety gate and, as the chain was detached from my collar, I was told that I had to remove all the stones over a certain size from the soil and pile them up on the other side of the wall. Mercifully, it was a small field, but I had to complete the task by sunset, or I would be punished. My wrists were unlocked behind me, and a kick to my ass sent me sprawling on to the stony ground. With the baking heat of the sun, I knew that I could easily die of thirst out here, and respectfully asked, lying on the ground where I had fallen, if I might have some more of their piss to drink. Laughing and sniggering again, they soon found an old plastic bottle lying beside the wall, which they soon filled with their foul piss. I thanked them submissively and they turned round, ignoring me, and walked off back down the dusty trail to the farm, leaving me alone.

I set to work clearing the stones, though it was no easy task, with my feet already cut and bruised and all the thorns sticking into the flesh of my legs and belly - and there were quite a few in my cock and balls, which I tried to pull out. All of my lower body was still on fire from the stinging nettles, but I had to work as best I could if all the stones were to be removed by sunset - I did not fancy being punished (whatever that meant to these rough peasants). There was no shade, and I was soon thirsty, so I picked up the dirty plastic bottle and drank from its foul contents. In the heat, the lads' piss was stinking more than ever, but at least it washed the taste of shit from my toilet mouth...

It occurred to me that I could run away and escape, but where would I go? If I got to another lonely farm, I would no doubt be sent back to the prison (since it was obvious that was where I had come from, being naked and in irons). There, I would no doubt be severely punished and sent back to the farm, where I would no doubt be punished again. In any case, this was my fate from now on, why would I even think of escaping. It would only be a matter of time before my inspector came to take me back to his home in the woods, where I would serve him for the rest of my life...

In the late afternoon, the sun began to go down, and I was able to rest a while in the bit of shadow afforded by the low stone wall. But time was passing, and I still had many stones to remove. I had not been left any food, but I did not feel any hunger, as my stomach was still filled with the youth's excrement.

I began to work more quickly, now that it was a bit cooler... but in my haste I missed quite a few stones, hoping they would not be noticed. I was nearly done by the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, and I heard the sound of three distinct voices in the distance. It was the farmer and his two sons, coming to inspect my work. I still had not finished, and hurried to complete the task... Finally, the man and the two youths entered the field as I was throwing the last of the stones - at least, those that were visible - over the wall. They came towards me, and the farmer unceremoniously locked the chain back on to my collar, while one of his sons locked my wrist irons together behind my back. They dragged me around the field like this, inspecting every inch of the ground. Needless to say, they found quite a few stones that I had left behind in my haste, and every so often the farmer would jerk my head towards him with the chain and slap my face and point to them, shouting at me. My heart sank as I knew I would surely be punished for this, though what form that punishment would take I could only guess at...

I apologized submissively, looking down at the farmer's dirty boots, promising to do better next time. He just grunted irritatedly, while his sons sniggered. I had drunk all the piss from the bottle, and was now extremely thirsty. With tears in my eyes from all the face-slapping, I tremulously asked if I might drink... of course, water was out of the question, so the farmer pushed me roughly to my knees, unbuttoned the front of his overalls and took out his thickly veined, stinking cock and started to piss in my face. I opened my mouth to catch the precious, but foul-smelling liquid and gulped it down as fast as I could, knowing that this would be all I would get to drink for God only knew how long. After he pissed, he farted a couple of times, turning round in the process and pulling my face into the sweat-stained crack of his overalls by reaching down between his legs and grabbing the chain that linked my tits together. I yelped at the sudden pain in my nipples, but my cry was stifled between his big buttocks as I dutifully breathed his stink, as I was expected to, to the great delight of his two sons. They then pulled me to my feet as the farmer shoved his foul member back into his overalls, and I was then marched back down the rough trail to the farm once more, though this time the lads did not entertain themselves by dragging me through the nettles and thorny bushes, for which I was grateful.

I was fearful as I was dragged along, knowing that I was to be punished when we got back to the farm. I was so tired, and thirsty again, I did not know whether I could stand up to another beating. But even though my body no longer belonged to me, and I knew that it had to suffer, when I was punished in the prison I knew it was for the pleasure of my inspector and that made me proud to suffer. But now, this was for the pleasure of a farmer and his two insolent sons, whom I did not worship as I did the inspector. My pain would not be for any purpose - just pure, simple punishment, and my yells and cries would not be for his pleasure, but for theirs. He would not even know that I was being beaten, here in the middle of nowhere - he would not hear my screams or see my tears - only the dirty, sweaty farmer and his even dirtier sons. Once more, my humanity had been taken from me, my own will and desires no longer mattered any more. This was truly what it meant to be a slave....

At a certain point, the farmer obviously considered that I wasn't walking fast enough, so he decided to loop the chain attached to my collar around the chain through my nipples, and a sharp tug on that chain soon speeded up my steps as the pain shot up from my helpless chest, exploding in my brain...

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

One of his sons decided to help his father speed up my progress, by carefully picking a bunch of stinging nettles and swishing them across my buttocks and between my legs from behind, setting my poor, defenseless balls on fire (mercifully, my cock was fixed to my navel by the ring through its head, but occasionally the nettles flicked round and upwards, so that even my poor cock was not spared...

I groaned from time to time from the pain in my tits, buttocks, balls and cock, but that had no effect on my tormentors. Finally, the ramshackle, low stone buildings that passed for a farm came into view, and, exhausted and in pain as I was, I managed to stumble along a bit faster, knowing that this torture would come to an end sooner. Of course, I was walking faster to the punishment that I knew awaited me...

It was now dark as they dragged me into the small barn where they usually kept the horse (I knew this from the overpowering stench of horse piss and shit, that obviously hadn't been cleaned out in days, perhaps weeks. I was dragged over to one of the two wooden supporting pillars in the middle of the building. The farmer threw the chain attached to my collar and tits over the beam connecting the pillars and pulled it down the other side, pulling my neck and tits sharply upwards. The pain in my nipples was excruciating and I could not help yelling out. As usual, this had no effect as the sniggering youths fixed the chain firmly to the pillar by banging a nail through one of the links into the wooden pillar, even yanking on it downwards a bit more for good measure... While they were doing this, the farmer unlocked my wrist irons, but, before I could use my freed hands to rub my nettle-stung buttocks, balls and cock, he and one of his filthy,insolent sons grabbed them, pulled them round the other side of the pillar in front of me and locked them together again. Standing to either side of me, I could see the farmer and his sons unbuckling their belts, positioning themselves so they could thrash my defenseless back, buttocks and thighs.

Their belts cracked against my naked flesh again and again. The involuntary reflexes of my body to get away from the blows simply pulled harder on my nipples and neck, or caused me to grind my cock and balls against the rough, splintery wooden pillar, which made them laugh all the more as their helpless slave and toilet took his punishment, screaming, crying and begging them to stop. The slave's cries and screams, miles from any other civilization (if you could call it that), were never heard, except perhaps by the animals. Eventually, exhausted by the thrashing and trying to avoid the sharp pains that shot up from my tits caused by my jerking movements, I no longer responded to my natural reflexes to avoid the blows, and I stood still as they continued their hideous work, sniggering and laughing when a particular blow crossed a previous welt, eliciting a drop of blood or two.

By now, the pain was not as intense as before, and my screams diminished to a general groan, punctuated by occasional sobbing. They stopped after about twenty minutes of non-stop beating. They were sweating and panting from their exertions, but no longer laughing and sniggering. The silence and the sound of their heavy breathing seemed somehow ominous, a portent of some other horror to come...

I was not wrong: I heard the farmer grunt some sort of instruction to his sons, who then positioned themselves on either side of me and pulled open my buttocks... It was not long before I heard the farmer unlocking my butt-plug, which he pulled out of me roughly, eliciting another yelp of pain from his helpless victim. It hung down from its chain between my legs. The problem was, it had been holding back a couple of days' shit and I was finding it difficult not to let my guts explode as I heard the farmer spit on his cock, ready for his assault. That problem was soon taken care of, because the farmer wasted no time in ramming his cock up my defenceless shithole.

The youths looked at my tear-streaked face and smiled as the farmer pushed his foul member into me, pumping my shit-filled hole again and again, banging my naked body repeatedly against the splintery wooden pillar I was firmly attached to. Fortunately, the plug had kept my hole well stretched, so it was not too painful and I made no protest (not that it would have mattered anyway). However, from the smell that began to fill the barn, it was clear that my shit was coming out uncontrollably as his member ploughed into me... but this did not seem to deter him - far from it, it seemed only to excite him more.

His hands groped round from behind to find my ringed and chained nipples, which he pulled and twisted agonizingly. His movements became more rapid as he neared his orgasm, till finally, with a deep-throated growl he shot his spunk deep in my guts, leaving his cock inside me till his erection began to subside. He eventually pulled it out, and this time I could not control the emptying of my guts as my shit splattered down between my legs to the floor... I heard him tell the boys to release me from the pillar, turn me round and push me to my knees. Of course, I knew what was coming next as the youths pushed me down on my knees into my own shit, facing the sweating, naked farmer and looking directly at his shit-covered cock, drooling out the last bit of spunk. He didn't say anything, just snapped his fingers and pointed to his filthy cock. He obviously knew that slaves on hire from the prison were trained to clean up... and I was no exception. I opened my mouth dutifully and, now that my hands were free, took his shitty cock in one hand and placed it in my mouth, sucking and cleaning it as was expected. I noticed that there was shit on his sweaty balls, so I lifted up his cock and put my tongue to work, licking them and the sweaty crack between them and his thick thighs as clean as I could. After a time, the farmer inspected my handiwork and seemed satisfied. He stepped back into his overalls and pulled them up, fastening the shoulder straps and putting his bare, stinking feet back into his boots. I of course knelt there submissively on the horse-shit covered floor (now with the addition of my own excrement) without saying anything or moving. I was exhausted from my long day's work in the field and my beating and did not even have the strength to squeeze my hole shut, the farmer's spunk and the rest of my shit now oozing freely down the inside of my thighs. I was less than an animal anyway, so why would I care about such formalities?

Suddenly, the farmer clapped one of his big hands round the back of my head and pushed my face down in the filthy mess that covered the floor. He then roughly shoved the butt-plug back up my shitty hole and locked the retaining chain in place. At a signal from the farmer, one of his sons locked my collar chain around the wooden pillar where I had been beaten, and they went towards the door, laughing nonchalantly and talking about what was for supper. The farmer and one youth went out, but that other one turned towards me and came back, smiling down at me as I sat in the filth. He got out his stinking, uncircumcised cock and just pissed all over me, aiming specially at my face. I was desperately thirsty, so I opened my mouth to drink down his foul piss, which seemed to please him. Still smiling at me, he muttered something about bringing me food afterwards. I thanked him, with my piss-drenched face looking up at him, genuinely grateful for this small kindness. He turned around, taking the single paraffin lamp with him and left me in the darkness of the barn, alone, my back, buttocks and thighs still throbbing from the beating they had given me. I lay down on the shitty floor, desperately tired and, running my hand over some of the welts on my ass and legs, I fell asleep.

I awoke suddenly as the same youth who had pissed all over me returned with the lamp and carrying a bowl of scraps left over from their supper, which he threw down on the floor beside me. It contained half-chewed scraps of meat (which he and the others had obviously spat out) and some crusts of bread and vegetables.

"Eat!" he grunted...

I grabbed the disgusting bits of food they had provided for their slave and ate ravenously (not having eaten anything since "breakfast" in prison that morning), gratefully eating on the scraps they had been chewing on and spat out. As I chewed like a hungry dog, the thought occurred to me that I would no doubt be recycling their supper for them next day when I would be put on toilet duty...

I paid no attention to him as he stood over me, watching me in this degrading position, but ate as fast as I could, in case he took the bowl away (which had happened in prison a few times). Some of the bits of meat were tough and it was difficult to chew them (which was why they had spat them out in the first place), but I persisted till I had eaten everything in the bowl and licked it clean.

I was thirsty again, and, knowing it was useless to ask for water, simply sat back on my heels on the shitty floor, looked at his cock bulging through his overalls and opened my mouth silently. It was an unwritten code, one which I had now learned to follow as the truly degraded animal that I had now become. Clearly, it was a code the youth knew too, since he unbuttoned the front of his overalls to release his stinking member. He skinned back the head, revealing days of cheese, and offered it to my thirsty mouth. The pig slave moved its face forward and gently took the foul thing into its mouth to receive its drink. There was not as much piss this time, so the animal slave was careful not to waste a drop. The piss swirling around inside its mouth loosened the crud from behind the head of his cock, and was swallowed down gratefully. The stink of his sweat and dried piss coming from his cock and balls was overpowering, but this pig's senses were now functioning on another level - the transformation that began with its body, shaved, ringed and branded, now being completed with the utter degradation of its mind: the stink of men - their belches, sweat, farts, piss, cheese, assholes and shit - was now so familiar to it, that the animal that I now was felt almost deprived if it was not given the privilege of breathing it in, sucking and licking on it, eating...

The filthy youth stopped pissing and his cock began to swell as my tongue cleaned off his cockhead. He suddenly grabbed my shaven head and began pumping his foul member in and out of my mouth, his growing cock now banging against the back of my throat and making me gag. His movements were so urgent, so violent, that I had to grab hold of his thick legs for support.

After his breathing got faster and faster, he pulled back slightly and stopped for an instant, followed by a shuddering groan as he shot his load, filling my mouth with what seemed like gallons of hot spunk, which I had to swallow fast in order not to choke. His orgasm eventually subsided, but he left his filthy cock in my mouth for a few minutes, standing still with his eyes half-closed as his breathing returned slowly to normal...

Suddenly, realizing that he was displaying a moment of vulnerability, of weakness, he pulled his cock out of my mouth, stuffed it back inside his overalls, turned round, grabbing the back of my head and shoving my face into his ass, covered with the filthy, unwashed cloth of his overalls, and farted two or three times, holding my face firmly in place. I breathed his stink gratefully, as a pig slave like me should. When my face was eventually released, I was shocked as I looked down at my cock, locked by its ring to my navel, and saw that it had begun to swell and strain against its imprisoning rings. The youth turned round and saw it too... He cupped my chin in his hand, raised my face to look up at him, pulled down my jaw and spat a great gob of spit into my mouth and watched it slide slowly down to the back of my throat. He released my jaw so that I could swallow it down... I thought, this was the nearest thing to a kiss my tormentor could give me, and I felt strangely grateful as his large, cold blue eyes looked searchingly into mine.

Overwhelmed, my imprisoned cock throbbing for release, I suddenly threw my arms around his thick thighs and buttocks, pressing my face into the piss-stained crotch of his overalls, sobbing incoherently. I cried for the pitiful condition I had been reduced to, for the "me" that once was and no longer existed, the life of endless torture and degradation that I saw before me - but most of all because I realized that this was what I was born for, that now there was no going back... and that I wanted this youth who had abused me just because he liked to.

He put his big hands on my shaven head, pulling me more tightly into his foul-smelling crotch. Did he like me? Did he want me? Foolish questions! He was just using another prison slave - but one thing was certain: I wanted him... Yes, he had punished me, beaten me with stinging nettles and his belt, used me as a toilet earlier that day when he had crapped in my pig mouth; yes, he had laughed and sniggered at my pain and degradation; yes, it gave him pleasure to see me treated like this (and this would clearly be the only way he would ever want me), but I knew only that in this sublime moment I wanted him...

CHAPTER NINETEEN

As the youth ground his foul crotch in my face, wrapping his big hands round my hairless head, I threw my arms round his big, round buttocks in a gesture of submission and desire, sobbing incoherently into the foul, piss-stained cloth of his overall...

After a few seconds, I heard the door of the barn being flung open, and through the corner of my eye I saw his father and brother standing in the open doorway. The farmer shouted something at his son and marched purposefully towards us. His son dropped his hands from round my head and turned away from me to face his father... From my poor understanding of their language, I gathered his father, the farmer, was remonstrating with him for being too intimate with the filthy prison pig (punctuated by a vicious kick from his booted foot, which sent me sprawling on the shitty floor), that this was not the first time this had happened, that I was hired from the prison to work! As I lay there with my cock still throbbing and straining against its ring locked to my navel ring, I looked up fearfully - clearly his father was angry with him (and no doubt with me, for my pathetic gesture of embracing his thighs and buttocks as he pushed his bulging crotch into my face), and after the tortures I had been subjected to during the day I did not feel I could stand further punishment...

But then his angry father did something that surprised me - he slapped his son's face two or three times, punctuating his angry words, while the youth seemed to be trying to apologize for his forgetfulness in allowing such intimacy with a piece of shit from the prison. But his father would have no more of it - he told the youth to drop his overall and go the very wooden post where I had been beaten myself a couple of hours previously. The youth pleaded with the farmer that he wouldn't do it again, that he would treat me the way I should be, but it was of no avail... The youth slowly unbuckled the straps of his overall and let them drop to the floor, kicking off his dirty boots and stepping out of them as his father undid the belt around his own trousers. The farmer signaled to his other son to secure him to the wooden post as the humiliated youth presented his hands to be tied round the other side of it (clearly, a tradition in this family). The other son also took off his own belt and fastened it round his brother's waist to the wooden post, buckling it on the other side. I noticed he pulled it extra tight, eliciting a groan from his brother and forcing the hapless youth's buttocks to stick out further...

Fearfully, I lay quietly on the filthy floor of the barn as his father took up position to the side of his son and began to lash into the youth's powerful thighs and buttocks with his belt. He was a tough lad, and did not cry and scream as I had done, just groaning occasionally as a particularly vicious blow landed on his bare flesh. His brother just smiled as he watched his father angrily punish his brother. The humiliation was all the greater for being punished in front of the prison pig, and I felt sorry for him - after all, it was only a small transgression. Once more, my own cock began to betray me by swelling and stiffening. Since I was of course naked and my cock was secured to my navel in front of me, I could not hide my perverted lust as I watched the punishment continue. After about ten full minutes of continual thrashing, the farmer stopped, turned towards me and, grabbing the chain attached to my collar pulled me to my knees and dragged me over to his beaten son and ordered me to kiss and lick his beaten buttocks and thighs - a small act of kindness to ease the pain, I thought.

I did as ordered, of course, licking away the flecks of blood where the belt had done its vicious work. The farmer and his other son watched me go about my business with quiet satisfaction... The smell from the youth's sweaty, unwashed crack was powerful and heavy, and it was not long before I inevitably felt the farmer's hands shove my face into the stinking cleft between the youth's buttocks, there to do what every prison pig was expected to do. The pig's tongue licked around the beaten youth's dirty hole, eventually pushing its way up inside it, tasting the remains of the crap that he had dumped in its mouth earlier in the day. A few farts escaped as the pig did its duty, probably the result of the fear the youth had felt as he was punished humiliatingly in front of the prison slave. This caused the youth's brother to snigger, but pig did not dare to stop, however, until the farmer had given permission, which eventually came after the farmer had put his belt back on and was walking towards the door of the barn. The youth's brother was about to untie his hands and release the restraining belt, when the farmer barked out an order to leave him, saying something like 'if he wanted to consort with prison pigs, he might as well stay with them...'.

I was shocked - clearly this brute wielded a rod of iron in this desolate place and I would have to be very careful not to cross him in the future. The beaten youth was left secured to the pillar, the tight belt forcing out his whipped buttocks obscenely, his hands still tied with rope round the other side of it - and the prison pig was his only companion, its collar still secured to the same wooden post by its chain.

The small paraffin lamp flickered in the silence, punctuated only by an occasional groan from the punished youth as he stood, humiliated, with his beaten buttocks and thighs exposed to the prison pig. Eventually, he whispered to me, in a humiliated voice to lick and kiss him as I had done before, to relieve some of the pain. My perverted desire for him was now so great - perverted, because I had enjoyed seeing him punished while at the same time feeling sorry for his humiliation and pain - that my tongue and lips soon found their way to his beaten thighs and buttocks once more, and to the cleft between them. I was not handcuffed any more, so I could use them to pull open his punished buttocks so that my tongue could do its duty more efficiently. His stinking cock and balls were hanging down between his beaten thighs, and the pig's mouth was soon doing its duty in that department too, licking the sweaty, pissy balls and cheesy cockhead, then taking the whole head in its mouth and lovingly sucking on it and licking it. Of course, it began to stiffen, but since the youth was so firmly secured to the wooden pillar, it could not rise up vertically, but remained uncomfortably pushed downwards with the pig's mouth round it.

My desire to please him was now overpowering, and my tongue went back to the welts on his buttocks and thighs, and on down to his stinking feet, licking between his dirty toes to show my complete subjection to him, even though he had been so humiliated and punished in front of me, the filthy prison pig. Yet to him, this must have been a further humiliation, knowing the prison scum was getting pleasure out of working on his helpless, punished body - that he was no longer in a position of command, and that the prisoner's tongue and lips gave him such pleasure nevertheless (which was perhaps his greatest humiliation). I tried to make him feel that he was still infinitely superior to me by licking his stinking feet thoroughly clean, crawling from one to the other - and whenever I heard a rumbling in his guts, promising the inevitable fart, I quickly shoved my face where it belonged, between his large, round, beaten buttocks, so that he would know the prison pig was smelling and sucking it down.

After a while, he whispered "...piss..." and the pig's mouth found itself immediately on the end of his stinking cock, ready to receive the foul liquid expelled by his punished body. The stinking liquid began to pour out as the slave knelt behind the punished youth, its head between the youth's whipped thighs and under his big buttocks, its mouth round the cockhead gulping the liquid down. When the flow eventually stopped, a slight rumble in the youth's guts signaled the arrival of yet another fart, which was duly captured by the pig's mouth and nose. I did my best to show him that he was still superior to me, in spite of what had been done to him in front of his brother and the prison pig by his father. I did not want to let him think that I despised him in his humiliation - after all, tomorrow would be another day, and I would once more be his helpless prisoner, and did not want him to take revenge on me for enjoying his degradation. I expected he would do so anyway, but at least whatever he would do to me might be mitigated in part by my dutiful and loving attentions to him now.

Eventually, he grew tired and sagged against his restraining belt. I humbly asked him if I should untie the rope binding his hands together - but he quickly said no, that if his father came back and found he had been released without his permission, he would be punished even more severely, not to mention me (any manner of unspeakable horror might be done to me for daring to disobey the farmer's wishes). Clearly, it was the farmer's intention that his son should spend the whole night there, naked and beaten in front of the prison slave, just for daring to share a moment of intimacy with him. As he began to doze fitfully, hanging against the wooden post by his brother's tightly-buckled belt, he whispered: "It'll be your turn tomorrow - he'll think it was your fault. That's what happened last time..."

It was then that I became afraid as I lay down on the filthy floor, with my head between the youth's feet, placing one of them on my face as a final gesture of humility...

CHAPTER TWENTY

As he began to doze fitfully, hanging against the wooden post by his brother's tightly-buckled belt, he whispered: "It'll be your turn tomorrow - he'll think it was your fault. That's what happened last time..."

It was then that I became afraid as I lay down on the filthy floor, with my head between the youth's feet, placing one of them on my face as a final gesture of humility...

I must have fallen asleep when I awoke to hear the barn door open and the farmer coming in, carrying a paraffin lamp. He was leading the horse to his stable. He tied the animal to a ring in the wall, paying no attention to his son or his worthless prison slave.

Still without looking at either of us, he walked business-like to the post to which his punished son was still firmly attached, took out his filthy cock and pissed all over me as I lay on the floor at his son's feet. Fearfully, I did not move as he directed the hot stream of stinking piss to my face...

"OPEN!" he barked, without interrupting the flow. Dutifully, the prison pig opened its mouth to swallow down its Master's piss. Satisfied that the pig knew its duty, the farmer then undid his belt, dropped his overall trousers and started slowly jerking his cock while standing behind his son's beaten ass. The youth seemed to know what to expect, because he started blubbering incoherently, begging the farmer not to do it... but the farmer just laughed, smacked one of his son's cheeks and commanded me to suck on his foul member to get it good and wet...

I took the stinking thing in my pig mouth and started licking and sucking on it, tasting the sweat and dried piss and crud under his foreskin. The farmer's cock grew bigger and harder, filling my mouth and making me gag. Then he pulled it out of my mouth, pulled open the youth's ass and started pushing it in - clearly he was going to fuck the lad in front of me, as another humiliation. I knelt quietly behind the farmer, watching his big buttocks and thighs moving backwards and forwards as he pumped his cock into his son's helpless ass. The youth ceased begging the man to stop, not wanting to appear more humiliated in front of the prison scum watching his degradation.

At a certain point, the farmer reached round with his hand and pulled my face into his crack. I could already savour the smell of his sweaty, shitty unwashed backside, long before my face was shoved unceremoniously into it...

"LICK" he barked, and - now thoroughly familiar with the stink of unwashed men's private parts, the pig's tongue did its duty, licking around the farmer's filthy hole and pushing into it, tasting the bitterness of his last crap and the bits of shit remaining inside. His hips were pushing so violently now, I had to hold on to his thighs so as not to fall over, despite that fact that he was still pressing firmly on the back of my head. He farted a couple of times into my mouth and nose, and of course I could not pull away from the stink as he held me...

Finally, pulling his cock completely out of the youth's hole, he then rammed it back in again, spewing his spunk deep in his son's guts as the youth moaned in pain. He stood there for a few minutes, letting his erection subside in his son's asshole, then pulled his cock out. He turned round, facing me as I knelt on the shitty floor, snapped his fingers and pointed to his cock, now streaked with shit and spunk. The prison pig's mouth once more wrapped itself round the filthy member and cleaned it up, as the pig was expected to do...

Once he was satisfied that I had cleaned his cock and balls properly, the farmer pulled up his overalls, stuffed his cock back inside and fastened his thick leather belt round his waist again.

He stood close behind the youth, yanked his head painfully back by his thick blond hair and growled menacingly in his ear (in his own language) something like: "Now you know what to expect when you start going soft on prison scum..."

The youth was sobbing softly, not only from the pain of being buggered, but from the humiliation of having it done in front of me, the prison scum...

The farmer then stood back, snapped his fingers once more and gestured towards the youth's ass. Seeing what the farmer was prepared to do to his own son, I wasted no time in crawling towards the youth's big ass and putting my tongue to work, cleaning out the farmer's spunk from the now very shitty hole. The youth's hole was now well loosened up by the rough fuck he had just received, and he could not control the escape of a couple of farts and the odd piece of shit left up there from this morning, when he had crapped in my mouth. The farmer, eventually satisfied with the pig's work, kicked the pig on the shoulder, knocking it back down on the shitty floor.

He then undid the belt that held his son to the wooden post, walked round in front of him and released his hands. He threw the youth's filthy overalls at him and commanded him to get dressed. Then he turned towards me... Yanking me to my knees by the chain through my tit rings, he cuffed my chin in his big hand, making me look up at him. He spat a great gob of spit in my face and, with his free right hand, slapped me right and left so hard I saw stars...

"NEXT TIME I SEE YOUR HANDS ON MY SON'S BODY LIKE THAT, I CUT OFF YOUR WORTHLESS BALLS!!! YOU SUCK, YOU LICK, YOU GET FUCKED AND PUNISHED, BUT YOU DON'T (slap) TOUCH (slap)!!! GOT IT (slap)?!!"

I nodded vigorously with tears in my eyes from the slapping, his spit drooling down my face. Then, he locked my wrist irons behind my back again and dragged me over to another stall by my neck chain and padlocked it to a ring in the wall. The straw which would serve as my bed was soaked in horse piss and caked in horse shit, but the ring in the wall was so low I could not stand up, so all I could do was lie in the filth. I desperately need a piss and could not wait till the man had gone out. As I lay there, the piss started to flow out of my cock, locked by its ring to my navel, and the hot liquid poured out all over my belly and chest, gathering force till it squirted in my own face. The farmer just laughed as he put his arm round his son's shoulder, ushering him towards the door. He took the lamp with him, leaving me in the stinking darkness as he locked the barn door behind him. I longed for my inspector to come for me and take me away from this nightmare. He could do what he wanted with me, I would not resist him. But it was he who had rented me out to this brute and his two sons, so perhaps he no longer wanted his personal pig... Would I ever see him again? I fell asleep, my body reeking of the piss that had just been squirted all over it from my restrained cock, my face stinking of the farmer's ass, his son's ass, his spunk and his son's shitty hole, wondering what new horrors would greet me

next day...

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