Date: Sat, 12 Mar 2005 16:19:46 +0000
From: Mark Bronson <beastmaster42@hotmail.com>
Subject: JOURNEY INTO NIGHT - Part 6

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 SIX

The stone floor was cold to my bare feet as I stepped inside the gloomy
hallway. The inspector again clapped a big hand round my neck and marched me
firmly towards a door at the back of the hall, under the staircase. He
unlocked it, and I saw a wooden stairway leading down to the cellar. My
heart was in my mouth - what had I let myself in for? I had been officially
discharged from the prison, so no-one would know where I was. I was the
prisoner of a sadistic police officer, held captive in the depths of an
enormous forest. If he murdered me, there would be no evidence - he could do
what he wanted to me - yet I knew that this was what I needed, what I
deserved...

When I got to the bottom of the stairs, followed by my captor and master, he
pushed me towards a pillar in the middle of the cellar after switching on
the naked light bulb that provided the only light. He placed an iron collar
round my neck, locked it with a padlock and chained me to the iron ring set
in the stone pillar. He stood back a moment, looking at my naked, abused
body up and down, then did something that surprised me: he took my face in
his big hands, looked me in the eye and kissed me passionately, savagely on
the lips, pushing his tongue into my mouth so far it nearly choked me. Then
he attacked my nipples, pulling, twisting and pinching them viciously till I
groaned - though my cries were stifled by the fat tongue which kept probing
my mouth. I was still handcuffed, of course, so I had no way to defend my
poor nipples. But it made no difference - my cock began to harden, in spite
of the pain in my chest, and the inspector knew that I needed this
treatment. He reached down, grabbed my balls in his big right hand, and
squeezed them hard, pulling them down sharply. My scream was stifled by his
tongue as it continued to fill my mouth, dribbling his saliva into it. I
nearly passed out with the pain, but was helpless to defend myself as he
continued to squeeze and mash my balls...

Then he stood back from me, looking my shaved and naked body up and down,
his eyes glittering. He smiled nonchalantly as I stood panting, my cock half
hard, my neck collared and chained to the pillar and my hands cuffed behind
me...

"I never let you go now... you my property!" he said in a low voice, thick
with lust.

I knew now that I would never return to my old life, that as far as the rest
of the world was concerned, I had simply 'disappeared'. I knew that he could
kill me if he wanted to, and nobody would be any the wiser. I knew he would
abuse me, and pain and degradation would be my lot from now on - but perhaps
I deserved this, needed this: I would just be his object, to gratify his
perverted desires. I had surrendered myself to him, a man who enjoyed
inflicting pain and humiliation on the prisoners in his custody, and I was
just another of his prisoners...

He released the chain from the pillar and pushed me to my knees, securing
the chain once more to the pillar. He calmly got out his cock and pissed all
over me, concentrating on my face, pulling open my jaw and urinating in my
mouth.... I drank it down thirstily. Then he calmly pulled his uniform
trousers over his big buttocks, turned round, pushed his stinking arse in my
face and farted two or three times. With the back of my head pushed up
against the pillar behind me, I could not escape the stink that erupted from
his guts. He gave a satisfied grunt, but did not move... I was trapped
there, his big buttocks on either side of my face. Obviously his hole wanted
licking, so I did my duty, pushing my tongue up his shit chute, which opened
up to receive it. The tip of my tongue met a turd, which was obviously on
its way down: clearly this was the reason he remained in this position - he
needed a crap, and I was going to be his toilet....

Another fart pushed its way out into my mouth, and the turd slowly slid down
into my open mouth. I had grown used to the taste and smell of men's arses
and their farts and shit while I was a prisoner, so I did not feel the need
to vomit this time. In fact, I wanted to show him how much I thought I
deserved this treatment, how much respect I had for him, so as the lump of
shit pushed its way into my mouth I immediately started chewing on it and
swallowing it, so that the other shit which would surely follow it would not
be wasted...

His shit certainly stank like a man's shit should, and I was grateful to him
for using me as his toilet as I looked up at the big arse spread over my
face. This was the man who had caned my own arse every single day for a
month, the man who had left me handcuffed, naked and helpless among a group
of violent prisoners, and because of whom I had been sentenced to a flogging
- and now here I was, eating his hot shit straight out of his shithole -
gratefully! Could there be any further depths to which I would sink?...

After the third turd, there was no more, so I licked his hole as clean as I
could, though my tongue was too shitty to do a really good job of it. With
his hole still rather shitty, he moved away from me, pulled up his uniform
trousers, looking down at my shit-stained face, smiling. He calmly took my
face in one of his big hands, pulled down my jaw and slowly dropped a gob of
spit into my open mouth and closed it again... I swallowed it gratefully.
Then he took a pair of his filthy underpants which had been lying on the
floor, stained yellow and brown with his piss and shit, stuffed them into my
mouth, secured them there with a cord wrapped several times round my neck
and mouth, and left me, going up the stairs, turning off the light. I was
left in the dark, gagged, collared, handcuffed and naked on the cellar
floor. I had no idea how long he would leave me there - it could be hours or
even days. I began to panic, but there was nothing I could do about it,
except wait for him to come back and abuse me again. My back, buttocks and
legs still stung from the flogging I had received earlier that day, my
stomach was full of his shit, and the smell and taste of his arse was still
in my nose and mouth - but I felt strangely contented, because this was a
man who knew how to treat a worthless piece of shit like me. My life was
literally in his hands, and if he left me to die here, or actually killed
me, it would not matter: I had given myself to him, and if that is the way
he wished to dispose of me, then so be it...

Some hours later, I heard him return. It must have been late in the evening,
but of course I had no idea what the actual time was. He turned on the light
at the top of the stairs and came down. He was carrying something in his
right hand. As he approached, I could see it was a branding iron - the same
one that was used in this country for escaped prisoners once they had been
caught and returned to jail. Their sentence was automatically doubled and
they were branded, as a discouragement to other prisoners if they got any
ideas about trying to escape. My heart was pounding - I knew what he wanted
to do, but gagged, handcuffed and naked, there was nothing I could do except
watch him light the small stove at the other end of the cellar, feeding it
with chopped logs and getting it really hot. When the fire was roaring, he
stuck the branding iron in the fire and walked nonchalantly over towards me:

"Now I make you like escaped prisoner - if you try to escape, when they find
you they will return you to me. You understand?"

All I could do was make some muffled sounds through my gag, which
approximated to "No, no, no! Please don't do this to me! I beg you no!!!"
But he just smiled as he watched me beg through my gag... He pulled me to my
feet by the chain and collar round my neck, released the chain from the
pillar and dragged me over to the table in the middle of the cellar. He
roughly bent me over it, pulling the chain attached to my collar down under
the table and round each of my ankles, securing them with a padlock to the
nearest legs of the table (it was a very long chain). I knew what was
coming, but in this position I was helpless. I groaned through my gag, but
he calmly went over to the stove and pulled out the branding iron, which was
now white-hot, and walked towards me again, making sure I could see it. He
walked behind me and, without warning, pressed it to my right buttock and
held it there for a full ten seconds. I screamed through my gag as the pain
exploded in my brain and the smell of burning flesh assailed my nostrils...

After those agonising ten seconds, he took the iron off my arse and walked
back to the stove, once more plunging it into the flames. He came back to me
and stroked my head to comfort me as I cried like a baby through my gag.
After a few minutes, he went back to the stove, took out the white-hot iron
and returned, standing behind me and pressing it mercilessly to my left
buttock. Again I screamed helplessly and this time I nearly fainted - but
because my head was hanging down over the table, I did not completely pass
out since the blood did not drain from my head. I was fully aware of every
agonising second. There was a stench of burnt flesh in the cellar as he
removed the iron from my arse and threw it on the floor.

Without warning, he took out his cock, which was now hard as a rock, and
pulled open my buttocks, spitting on my hole. He shoved his stinking cock
into my defenceless hole and fucked me brutally, banging his hips into my
branded buttocks. The pain was excruciating... Now I knew this brute really
possessed me - I was now not only his property, but the property of the
State. If I tried to escape, I would be caught and once they saw my branded
arse, they would throw me back in jail and throw the key away...

He continued to fuck me hard and brutally, banging into my branded buttocks
and making me groan and cry out with pain through my gag. Finally, his huge
fat cock erupted, spewing his spunk into my guts. His breathing was heavy as
he lay for a few moments over my back on top of me. Then he again surprised
me by kissing me on the back of my shaved head and my neck. I melted as I
felt him possess me, kissing me with his cock still twitching in my
shitchute. Still gagged, I could not tell him I loved him, which I wanted
desperately to do. When he finally pulled his cock out of my hole and
released me from the table (though not unlocking the handcuffs), he turned
me round, pulled the gag from my mouth and stuck his shit and spunk-streaked
cock into it for cleaning as usual. Then he pissed, and I swallowed it all
down gratefully.

Then he pulled me to my feet, dragged me over to a pile of filthy, piss and
sweat-soaked rags that passed for a bed in the corner, locking the chain
attached to my collar to a ring in the wall. I lay down, still handcuffed,
looking up at his towering body in its filthy uniform, and found the words
"thank you Sir" escaping softly from my lips. He smiled slightly - and
placed the sole of one of his booted feet on my face, reminding me of my
position... As he pressed it down harder on my cheek, I felt finally
contented - that here was a man who knew how to treat me: like a worthless
piece of shit. My buttocks still throbbed agonisingly from the branding,
but, still with his boot pressing on my cheek, I felt him rub some sort of
cream into my burnt buttocks, which relieved the pain a bit. I felt his
spunk leaking out of my hole, but was not ashamed - this was how he wanted
me: filthy, punished, little more than an animal. It made his cock hard to
see me so degraded - and my own cock was now hard. He removed his boot from
my face after rubbing the cream into my wounds, looked down at my stiff
shaved cock - then put his boot on my defenceless cock and balls and pressed
down on them hard. Again the pain exploded in my brain - but this time from
my balls. As his right boot ground into my bollocks I cried out, but he did
not stop: I could not shrink from his boot, as I was lying on the pile of
filthy rags, soaked with his piss and bits of shit from his arse, no doubted
deposited on some of his previous victims. Tears came to my eyes and I cried
like a baby now - but still I found myself leaning over to the side to kiss
his other booted foot....

Suddenly, he withdrew his boot from my balls, squatted down over my face and
farted through his uniform trousers into my mouth and nose. His boots were
on either side of my face as the stink of his guts erupted into my
defenceless face. Then, still sitting on my face, he smacked me hard on my
balls with the flat of his hands, making me cry out into his big arse. Again
and again he battered my bollocks, which I was powerless to defend, still
being handcuffed. Then he got up off me, looking down at me as I sobbed like
a small child.

"Now you good boy! I teach you always be good boy!"

"Yes Sir!" I blurted out... "I want to be your good boy!"

He slowly lit a cigarette, smirking at me - then he spoke:

"Tomorrow you go back to prison. I speak with judge - he will give you
sentence for life. You stay here till you die. You will receive one visit
from British embassy. After that, prisoners of this category have no rights
- you understand?..."

My heart was pounding: I did not know what to say. I was shocked. My
imprisonment would be legally sanctioned, and there would be nothing the
embassy could do. I would be left to rot in this hell-hole of a country. My
experience of life in prison had taught me that life prisoners were treated
worse than shit. They were often flogged arbitrarily, just for the amusement
of the guards. As for rape and other disgustingly degrading activities -
well, that was par for the course. Lifers could be executed summarily for
trying to escape... Being a "good boy" was one thing, but this was something
else...

"I - I don't think I want to go that far..." I started to say, haltingly:
but he just smiled...

"You gave yourself to me... You want to be my good boy. Now you have no
choice - you be my good boy for ever..."

His black eyes looked at me intensely... I looked down to his crotch and saw
that his cock was stiffening again, straining against his uniform trousers.
I knew this would mean years of unspeakable degradation - but, against my
own will, I found myself painfully getting to my knees and kissing the bulge
in his trousers. Then he must have known that I no longer possessed any will
to resist him: he placed a big hand on my shaven head and pushed it into his
bulging crotch, continuing to smoke his cigarette. Then he pulled my head
back, bent down and blew smoke into my open mouth while he kissed me. At
that moment, I knew I loved him, the man who had taken over my life,
possessing me in every possible way. I wished he would unlock my handcuffs,
so that I could fling my arms round his thick legs - but that pleasure was
denied me. I could only submit and accept whatever he did to me.

Suddenly, he pushed me back down on to the filthy 'bed', threw a blanket
over me, stinking of dried piss and streaked with shit, turned, went up the
wooden stairs, switched off the naked lightbulb and locked the door behind
him. I could just hear the sound of his car as he started it up and drove
away, leaving me alone in the dark: my balls ached, my back throbbed from
the flogging and my buttocks still burned from the branding - but I knew I
deserved no better, this would be my life from now on...