Date: Tue, 15 Mar 2005 14:19:56 +0000
From: Mark Bronson <beastmaster42@hotmail.com>
Subject: JOURNEY INTO NIGHT - Part 10

Copyright: Beastmaster42.

This story is fiction. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is
purely coincidental.

Comments to beasmaster42@hotmail.com


JOURNEY INTO NIGHT

CHAPTER TEN

Then we were marched out to the exercise yard with the other prisoners: like
us, they were naked, shaved from head to foot, with rings and tags through
their nipples and cocks - this at least meant that they would not be doing
any fucking, so my arsehole would be safe from them (though of course the
guards would be free to do whatever they liked to us...). The others crowded
round us, wanting to know our names and why we were in here. They were very
interested in the fact that I was English - it seemed I was the only
foreigner they had ever had here. The gags had been taken out of our mouths
and our hands were no longer cuffed. I spoke to the young lad who had been
so brutally fucked, and he seemed surprised at my kindness - in fact, it
caused tears to well up in his eyes. He asked me (I could speak their
language a bit by now) "why are they doing this to me?" I asked him why he
was arrested: it seemed that he had attacked his stepfather who was raping
his younger brother, after years of treating his mother brutally. The attack
had resulted in his stepfather's death. I could only put my arm round his
shoulder to comfort him - there would be no reprieve for him, just years of
imprisonment till he himself died - the same fate that I was condemned to.

At least I knew the inspector would come for me from time to time, but for
him there would only be endless monotony, surrounded by other naked
prisoners who would no doubt use his mouth again and again - they could not
fuck him because of the rings and metal tags through their cocks, but at
least his tongue would be useful up their arseholes as they jerked their
ringed cocks...

As if on cue, two of the older prisoners, grabbed him away from me,
frog-marching him backwards to a corner of the yard as he pleaded with me to
save him. But I was powerless against the others, and could only watch as he
was forced to his knees and made to lick the balls and arseholes of his two
tormentors while they jerked off...

Eventually, a whistle was blown and all the prisoners stood to attention in
a line, their hands behind their backs, so I joined them in similar
posture...

The camp commandant emerged from inside the grim building and inspected the
line of naked, shaven, ringed prisoners - who stared straight in front of
them, not daring to register any expression on their faces, lest the
commandant took it for impertinence. Occasionally, he would stop by a
prisoner, hefting his cock and balls in his hands, then yanking them
viciously up and down to provoke some agonised reaction. If a prisoner dared
remove his hands from behind his back, the two guards who accompanied the
commandant immediately set about beating him with canes which they always
carried with them. If he resisted, or fell to the ground, he was immediately
kicked until he stood to attention again - and the guards simply continued
to cane his chest, belly, legs, back and buttocks till the commandant
ordered them to stop. Seeing a grown man shuddering with sobs and tears is a
pitiful thing, but this was a sight I grew used to over the next few years:
every man in this prison had welts on all parts of his body from the
frequent canings dished out by the guards. Of course, like me, they were all
branded and ringed: the rings through their cocks meant that none of them
would ever be able to fuck again - the only fucking done in this place was
by the guards, and it was the prisoners naturally who were on the receiving
end of the guards' dicks. Some of these men had been married or had
girlfriends, but now they were just fuck tools for the amusement of the
guards. They had no rights, like all life-prisoners, and they were shaved
smooth from head to foot (I noticed that even their eyebrows had been
removed, a fate that no doubt awaited me...).

The commandant - a burly, thick-set man with short-cropped hair and a
stubbly chin - walked along the line, "inspecting" his prisoners, each of
whose genitals were given a vicious mauling, and stopped in front of me:
with my heart pounding, I stared straight out in front of me, not daring to
look into his eyes. Without warning, he brought his knee up into my groin,
bashing my balls... The pain was excruciating, but I kept my hands behind my
back, although my body bent forward as an instinctive reaction. My head
rested for a moment on his uniformed chest, but he just grabbed my ringed
nipples and pulled me upright again. I stood manfully to attention while he
continued to pull and twist my nipples, keeping my hands behind my back.

He seemed impressed with this and smiled...

"You foreign dog - for you we have special treatment, very special..." he
said in a sinister tone of voice.

I tried to show no reaction, though there must have been a flicker in my
eyes, because he gave a vicious twist to the rings in my nipples, which
elicited a yelp of pain from me, I could not help it. His face darkened with
annoyance, and he snapped his fingers to one of the guards, who fished out a
thick leather gag from his pocket and strapped it tightly into my mouth,
fastening the strap behind my head with great efficiency... Then he
handcuffed my hands behind my back once more, and I continued to stand to
attention...
Suddenly, the guard at the gate called out that a visitor was arriving - I
understood enough of their language to realise that it was the British
ambassador's car - and, sure enough, as the gate swung open, the
ambassadorial car drove in, sporting a Union Jack on its bonnet.

It must have been a strange sight that greeted the ambassador's eyes as he
drove past the line of naked, shaven prisoners standing to attention. He
must have thought it was some weird guard of honour, got out to greet him.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw him get out, accompanied by the blond man
who had visited me in the other prison. They looked briefly in our direction
before going inside...

The commandant left us standing there in the sweltering sun and disappeared
inside, no doubt to 'welcome' the official party...

Two guards emerged a few minutes later, walking briskly towards me. The
marched me towards the door I had seen the others go through, and flung it
open, marching me quickly to the commandant's office. When we entered, I saw
the ambassador and the blond man seated and drinking a glass of something,
no doubt alcoholic.

I felt unbelievably embarrassed as I stood to attention - naked, shaven,
gagged and handcuffed - the commandant and the two men from the embassy
continued to chat as if I wasn't there for a moment, but then the ambassador
asked the commandant if it was really necessary to parade me naked, cuffed
and gagged like this in front of him...

"He has no rights, he is life prisoner... I cannot make exception for
him..." the commandant said dryly.

So there I stood, with heavy rings through my nipples and cock, made heavier
by the metal tags which were attached to them. The ambassador spoke:

"It seems you've been a naughty boy - for God's sake man, why did you sign
that paper? We could have got you out of here and stopped all this
nonsense!"

Of course, the thick leather gag filled my mouth and I could not answer...

"Can you at least take the gag out, so he can answer me?" the ambassador
asked the commandant.

"He has nothing to say - he is life prisoner. He does not have right to
speak..." the commandant once more reminded them.

The blond man from the embassy smiled at me... "You see, Ambassador, I told
you - he knew what he was getting into: we're better off without this filthy
pervert!"

The ambassador got up - a tall, distinguished man with greying temples - and
walked towards me, then round the back of me...

"I see they've given you the full treatment, brands and all!" he commented
with some surprise.

I didn't know whether he knew what "the full treatment" meant in these parts
- the endless filth and degradation to which I had been subjected, the many
times my asshole had been violated - he could only have had the vaguest
idea. I blushed with embarrassment as he fingered my branded buttocks...

The guards suddenly bent me over to give him a better look at my most
intimate opening, pulling my buttocks wide open - clearly, a well-practised
formality here. The ambassador diplomatically thanked them for their
efforts, and I was stood upright again. He moved round in front of me and
fingered the rings through my nipples. He spoke softly to me: "there might
be something I can do to get you out of here - I could speak to the
President himself. But if I sign this final paper, you will never leave this
place, your freedom will be lost for ever - are you sure?"

For the first time, I began to change my mind - I did not think I could
spend the rest of my life like this... The commandant must have understood,
because he immediately motioned the guards to take me away, before I had
time to shake my head. As they pulled me backwards and I started to show in
my eyes that I had changed my mind, my verbal pleas being reduced to a
muffled groaning through my gag, I saw the commandant hand the paper to the
ambassador, who looked at me one last time and, thinking that I had no
objection, signed the paper which once and for all yielded me up to the
tender mercies of the brutal regime that now possessed me, body and soul,
for the rest of my life. The blond embassy man knew that I wanted to say
"no", but distracted the ambassador by handing him his pen to sign: my last
hope had gone, and now I was doomed...

I was marched outside again, to join the line of naked prisoners, and stood
to attention as the ambassador and his assistant got into the embassy car. I
tried to catch the ambassador's eye in a vain attempt to signal my desire to
be rescued, but the big, blond man kept him out of my view, so that now
there was no hope of ever being 'rescued': he smiled at me as he got in the
car - a cruel smile, as he handed the commandant an envelope with what I
presumed was a wad of notes (clearly, he had some malicious arrangement with
the commandant which involved me...).

The car drove off, and the commandant came back towards me. He smiled at me
as he lit a cigarette: then he motioned to the guards to take me inside. I
was marched down various corridors, then down a flight of stairs into the
basement. I was terrified: what new horrors awaited me?...