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Delmore, Chapter Four
Officer Lincoln led me into Dorm B. For the second time in my 12-hour shift, I was being led naked and cuffed into a prisoner dorm by a Superior Black Man. This dorm looked drastically different.
It was dark. Lit about as well as a dive bar would be at night. I saw quite a few stations in the open area that I wasn't sure about. Each one (that was occupied) had a white boy tied to it while being sexually tortured by a Black Man. Some were moaning from pleasure and some yelping in pain. I recognised at least one of the white boys from the shift briefing earlier in the day. He was being plowed while chained to a leather sling. I saw what looked like the witch's stocks that they used to lock people up in on courthouse squares long ago. I saw cages.
And in the center of the wall was what appeared to be a painting of our state flag. For those that don't know it's a red saint Andrew's cross on a square white background. And of course, there was a white boy tied to that cross, being whipped by a Black Man. A Black CO watched on with a couple of other Men. I had no idea if the white boy was a CO or an inmate, but he sure looked like the other white boy that was gang raped with in the intake room. I was led to the thing that looked like witch's stocks. I later learned it was called a pillory. This one had an addition that looked like an attached table in the rear. That did make it appear a little more comfortable.
Officer Lincoln took my cuffs off. He then put on leather wrist straps that had silver rings attached. The same were attached to my ankles. I thought about making a run for it. Lincoln must have sensed it.
"Don't make it worse, white boy. This can be a quick lesson, or We can drag this shit out for days." I decided compliance would be best.
Another CO came over to assist Him. I was bent over into the pillory with my stomach on the table and my head and hands through the stocks.
My ankles were fastened to the table legs. I couldn't move. My caged clit was rubbing the edge of the table. A line of about 6-8 white COs were brought in and made to kneel facing me. Their hands were all behind their backs (I recalled that as the presenting position).
The shift supervisor, Lt. Roosevelt, appeared and began to speak loud enough for everyone in the dorm to hear.
"To all of the Men and bitches in this dorm: bear witness to boy jess' punishment. This little bitch was caught trying to go to the former warden for help in escaping his training. As if the warden hadn't already become a feminized slut urinal for its Black Master. "
I was looking across the room to my white brothers for help. I was terrified at what might be about to happen to me. I saw the looks in their faces as they had been ordered to look at me. They were all wearing their uniform shirts, though some were not wearing pants. A few looked like they felt grief for me. A couple of them were sweaty and scared. But a couple of them looked happy. As if there was no place they would rather be. That was what I remember the most before I was blindfolded. That's when the fear really kicked in.
"boy jess, you will receive 10 lashes from a cane. After each lick, you will count it and yell Sir thank You Sir. If you do not, you will receive further punishment. Do you understand, boy?"
"Sir, yes Sir," I shakily replied. I remember thinking back to when my dad would whip me as a kid. I'd tell myself the pain wouldn't last forever. I'd survive. I found myself doing that again.
"Officer Lincoln, begin!"
I swear I could hear the cane moving through the air before it struck my back. I felt the pain resonate through my entire body. I yelped, counted one, and immediately thanked Officer Lincoln. I repeated that phrase after the second strike to my back. The next four strikes were on my ass. By then, the tears were streaming down my face. But I continued to thank my Captor for the punishment. Sir Lincoln moved the cane to the back of my legs for the next two strikes. I was wore out.
Limp with pain. I miscounted the 8th strike on my leg. I panicked as I thought it would start all over but my Masters decided to apply a different punishment for my error. I felt my ankles being released. I had a false sense of hope that they were feeling sorry for me and decided to stop. That seems laughable to me now. Someone had raised one of my feet and I heard the swoosh before I felt it hit the sole of my right foot. The last two lashes on my soles were punishment for messing the count up.
I'd had a lot of painful events in my life. Car accidents, broken bones, and like all cops, I'd been tased. The taser had hurt the worst.
Until that cane hit my foot. I screamed. But still had the good sense to yell a painful thanks to my Captor. Then he struck the left foot.
Through the shame of openly crying from the pain, I thanked Sir Lincoln for the lesson. I just thought I was broken by that point. Turns out, I had a ways to go.
The pain was still very sharp all over my marked body. Lt. Roosevelt spoke again, "Now that this white boy has endured a punishment that fit his crime against us, he can now start atoning for his sin. Both of his holes are open for any Man in this room to use. The rest of you bitches, get back to work!"
And with that, my ankles were chained to the table once again. Despite the pain I was enduring my dick felt like it was trying to break out of its cage. And in no time I was met with the familiar musk of a Black Dick/Balls while my face was getting fucked. I felt my plug being removed hastily and another Dick entering me from behind. I could barely move, but the pillory kept me in place to service these Men. I have no idea how many used me. It went on for what felt like hours. I know I passed out once but was revived by a painful slap to the face with an order to open my white faggot mouth. At one point I heard Officer Lincoln ordering one of the white officers to clean up my pussy with his tongue. He said he wanted it glistening clean so He could seed me too.
Time passed and I was no longer being fucked at either end. But I could feel how open my ass was. And how much cum was leaking down my legs. My lips were numb and my throat was sore as fuck. No clue as to how many times I'd thrown up while deep throating. Cum and spit hung off my chin and covered my face and hair. The pain of the cane had, thankfully, subsided while I was being fucked. The strangest sensation of all was that being covered in cum, and the feeling of my wet, open hole, made my hornier than I ever had been. The smell of Their musk was imprinted on my face. The cum leaking onto my legs and nutsack was causing my dick to be really strained in its cage. Like, painfully so. Why? Why in fucks sake was this turning me on so much?
My blindfold was removed. A couple of white officers had tended to me.
They were rubbing a salve of some type on my wounds and then released me from the pillory and table. But not before installing another (larger) plug.
The two of them grabbed a shoulder each and carried me out of there like a wounded soldier. I remember seeing another white officer being put in the pillory while still in uniform to be a two-hole cum bucket for the Black Inmates still in the dorm. I was barely conscious but this time I definitely passed out. When I regained consciousness I was in the infirmary.
To be continued...