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...