ERIC'S REVENGE
Chapter two
Eric pointed to the spanking bench while the blond guard went over to a row of canes stacked by one of the bare walls of the punishment room. It was obvious that these canes weren't exactly school canes but thick flexible canes for use on the worst criminals.
I broke down. I fell to the floor and begged Eric not to hurt me. I said I was sorry and asked him to forgive me and not to do this to me. I grovelled on the concrete floor in front of him. I turned to the other guard and kissed his feet, begging hard. Then I felt sudden blinding pain. It was Eric's hard leather prison-officer boot connecting with my balls as hard as Eric could make it connect.
I writhed on the floor, clutching myself in pure agony, unable even to scream. The two of them laughed for a minute or so and then each grabbed an arm and without any further consideration, or even saying anything, tied me securely to the spanking bench. My legs were slightly spread making my cock and balls easily accessible to anyone who wanted to torment them, and my torso was tied slightly downwards so my buttocks were at the highest point and just waiting to be beaten. My balls were still sending waves of pain right through me. Eric asked the other guard to `squeeze the cunt's balls so he feels all the pain for longer, while I explain some more facts to him'.
Eric lent down, spat in my face, and smiled his beautiful smile, and began: `That kick was just the beginning of what I can do to you, shitface, if you don't obey me. Remember -- I'm enjoying hurting you and I don't care if your balls are completely destroyed ... For that begging and disobedience, for not going straight on to this spanking bench, I've decided not increase your punishment for today. We were going to just give you a dozen strokes of the cane, which would have made you scream. Now it'll be three dozen so you'll hardly be able to walk afterwards, which will mean that the guards in charge of your hard labour will probably beat you again. We'll still put your dick it in its spiked cage, but now we'll have some fun with it first, which won't be much fun for you -- oh, and my friend needs a shit so you'll get an extra meal too. Don't worry if there are some bits of you that aren't hurting when you go back to start your first day's hard labour: there's always tomorrow, the next day and the day after that and the day after that ..."
The guard finally released my balls and I yelped when he gave them a quick smack -- they were still incredibly sensitive after Eric's full-powered kick. Eric and the blond guard then each carefully selected a tough prison cane. It was the blond guard who gave me the first stroke. The pain and shock of that first stroke are impossible to describe. The impact took my breath away and the line of pain going across both my buttocks built and built to a crescendo of pain. The agony was probably worst after about 10 seconds but was bad, very bad, long after. I screamed and screamed and Eric spoke again -- "35 to come, shitface -- it's fun to hear you scream -- another time, I'll probably gag you with something nasty -- but for now, I'll enjoy the noise! -- anyway, it's my turn now".
Eric's first stroke was, if anything, harder than the blond guard's and it was slightly lower and in a more sensitive area. I pulled pointlessly at the tight straps holding me naked at an angle which invited a hard beating from the boy I had once abused. I became frantic and begged for mercy as the blond guard got ready for his next stroke.
My buttocks burned terribly as deep welt after deep welt was drawn across my naked flesh. The torture strokes were usually about 15 seconds apart but sometimes Eric and the guarded signalled something and two strokes came right on top of each other for extra impact.
The first dozen were basically parallel, welting in neat lines of extreme pain between the top of my crack and the top of my thighs. The second dozen were super-painful, crossing the others diagonally downwards and with the ends of the canes biting at high speed into the backs of my tender thighs. A couple of them swung agonisingly round on to my hips, and they nearly all crossed over the welts from the first dozen creating special little bleeding torture points at the intersections. For the final dozen, I discovered that the spanking bench had a contraption for spreading my legs wider. Apart from being very uncomfortable, it exposed the inside of my crack and my hole to the two enthusiastic caners. They now used their canes to punish those new delicate areas -- the pain was so great that I could barely even scream. I was breathless, in agony and, I thought, unable to speak.
Eric spoke -- "I don't think you enjoyed that much, shitface, but we did; it was your first prison punishment of many! You'll be taking 50, 60, even 100, in future. There's a bit of blood, so we've got you some antiseptic -- just for you and to make it more fun for us, we've mixed it with some pepper-spray.' With that, the other guard sprayed the punishment-liquid all over my buttocks and then laughed as he sprayed it on my anus and up my asshole. Then he sneered We're waiting for a thank you, you disrespectful cunt -- do you want another three dozen?' As he said those words, the pepper spray took effect and I felt an unbearable burning on my sensitive beaten buttock-flesh, on my anus and inside my asshole. I somehow managed to croak Thank you. Sirs, for caning me'.
They untied me from the spanking bench and roughly pulled me to my feet. The other guard was about to take me by the arm to escort me to the bondage table when Eric stopped him and whispered something to him. The guard then pushed me to the floor and told me to worm my way on my stomach to the table and laughed when Eric picked up a small whip to encourage me to move across the room more quickly. It stung like hell when he used it across my back and shoulders. When I got to the foot of the bondage table, Eric put his boot on my sore back and told me to beg for my next punishment -- I remembered with horror what it was going to be. I cried as I said `Please, Sirs, tie me to the bondage table and torture my penis'.
They pulled me up and secured my limbs, stretched out, to each corner of the bondage table. Looking around, I could see plenty of ways they could cause me really terrible pain, and probably also do irreparable damage to my most sensitive organs. There were special whips and small mean-looking canes, ball crushers and ball-parachutes next to some terrifying-looking weights. There was electric-shock equipment which looked like it was made for herding elephants rather than for punishing a naked man -- but I would learn in due course that it could be used use on the genitals of a naked man.
On this occasion, the other guard was opening a smallish bottle, having got down from an upper shelf some kind of very thin wire brush. Eric smiled -- a smile I was quickly learning to fear -- and spoke quietly into my ear. Shitface, we've now got something special for you. We were just going to fit your cage today -- and maybe show you how the spikes work -- but then you made that scene. So here we go with something which will stay with you for a time to help you remember to obey in future.' Eric showed me up close what I thought had been a thin wire brush. It was something far worse. He lent over me and I could feel and smell my torturer's breath, the boy I had continuously assaulted and was now in charge of me. Eric showed me a piece of very slender barbed wire. When you looked closely, as Eric explained to me, being so thin the wire could easily, if painfully because they had no intention of using any lube, be inserted into my urethra through my pisshole. He explained that I'd experience a really horrible burning pain. But much worse was to come, he explained. The tiny barbs were facing back up the wire towards the pisshole, so the real fun bit would be the second part when the guard in charge of the punishment pulled it slowly back out of my penis. Those tiny little barbs will make little tears in the super-sensitive lining of your urethra. I have a feeling that we might hear some more of your enjoyable screams. Now beg for your punishment, shitface'.
I don't know how I did it but I forced myself to say: Please, Sirs, punish my penis with that wire'. Do you deserve it?' Eric asked. I knew there was only one answer Yes, Sir, I deserve it'. Do you deserve any lube or shall we just let the wire tear you up?' `I don't deserve any lube, Sir -- I deserve to be torn up, Sir'
Shall we use this on him afterwards?', said the blond guard, pointing to the bottle of think reddish liquid he'd just opened. Nah -- we'll pepper-spray him if he bleeds out'. Then, turning to me, Eric explained: `When we do this to you again -- and we'll probably do it quite often because we enjoy it -- we'll shove the super-hot chilli oil in this bottle up your dick as a follow-up lube -- you won't like it much'. Both guards laughed.
The penis punishment itself, once it started, was even worse than Eric had described it. Eric held my dick tightly, intentionally digging his nails into my penis-flesh, while the guard carefully pushed the wire into my pisshole. Eric was definitely right about the horrible burning sensation from deep inside what had until then been the most private and personal part of my body, and was now being used for my punishment. I writhed and struggled but there was obviously no escape. Eric smiled -- and even giggled slightly -- as the wire worked its way inside me: `This is nothing to when it comes out -- you'll be begging us to leave it in there for the rest of your life'. The wire was slowly inserted about four centimetres into my penis.
The agony of removing that wire, the tiny barbs ripping the lining of my urethra, was beyond belief. It felt as if my whole dick was being torn to shreds. My stretched body somehow lifted off the bondage table in agony. Then I glanced at Eric who was watching the whole thing as the blond guard jiggled the wire to make sure it bit into me as much as possible as he very slowly extracted it. Eric was enraptured by my torture: he was in charge of my life for the foreseeable future.
Finally, the torture -- but not the terrible pain it caused -- ended. Eric showed me the wire, now with blood on it and a number of tiny bits of my own pink flesh which the wire had torn from inside my dick. A little splash of pepper-spray antiseptic was so painful that I screamed frantically again. Then I felt two pairs of hands attach the cage to my agonised dick. `We've decided to show you how the spikes work later on, shitface, if you don't find out for yourself in the meantime -- I strongly advise you to stay soft, while you enjoy the pain inside your dick.
`Right now, my friend needs a shit ...'