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 SEVEN
I awoke to the sound of voices upstairs: one of them I recognised as my captor (I still did not know the inspector's name - the other prisoners had always referred to him simply as "The Inspector"), but the others were strange to me. The cellar door opened, the light was switched on and four men came down the stairs, three policemen and the Inspector. They walked purposefully towards me, pulled off my stinking blanket and looked down at my naked, abused body, commenting to each other as they turned me over to look at the marks on my back from the flogging and the brands on my buttocks. They pulled them open to look at my arsehole, sniggering to each other.
My mouth was dry and I was dying for a drink: I looked at the inspector and asked him softly for water. He smiled at me, and said something to the three policemen which I only understood when they took out their cocks, pulling me to my knees and stuffing them one after the other into my mouth, letting go a hot stream of stinking piss, which I felt strangely grateful for, drinking it all down thirstily. One of them, after discharging what seemed litres of piss into my waiting mouth, turned round, pulled the top of his trousers over his fat rump and farted into my face several times, holding my head firmly in place...
"Now - you still thirsty?" the inspector asked... With piss dripping from the corners of my mouth, I shook my head. One of the men then pulled me to my feet by my tits and pushed me towards the stairs. I walked up them, with the men following closely behind. I heard them admiring my rump - I knew enough of their language now to understand roughly what they were saying.
Once we emerged from the cellar, I could see it was daylight, but still had no idea of the time. I was quickly marched to the waiting car and bundled into the back seat, with one policeman on either side of me. I could see from the watch of one of them that it was ten past six in the morning. The inspector sat in the front passenger seat and the third policeman drove off at high speed along the bumpy track that led out of the forest to the road. Gradually, I recognised the landscape - we were going back to the prison!
The grim building slowly came into view, and we approached the main gates. Seeing the car, the guards opened the gates and we drove through. It was now seven in the morning. As we entered the main building with its one prison cell, I could see the guards were going about their daily task of caning the prisoners, one of whom was held down over the desk, having his buttocks thrashed mercilessly.
I looked towards the cell - only a few of my former cellmates were left, including Karl: the others had presumably been flogged and released.
The inspector signed me in, and I was thrown into the cell as before, still in handcuffs.
The inspector and the other three went out, leaving me to the tender mercies of the other naked, shaved prisoners. Karl immediately came towards me, embraced me and kissed me - he did not know that I was still here, thinking I had left the country.
"Why you come back? This very bad for you now..." he said. I could not answer, merely resting my head on his big chest... but he insisted: "Why? Now you never go home!" All I could do was fall to my knees and kiss his sweaty, pissy, stinking cock and balls. Then he knew the answer: this was where I belonged, this was my place - I did not WANT to go home. He pulled me to my feet once more, taking my face in his big hands and kissing me savagely on the mouth...
Suddenly, the inspector came in with the magistrate and the other three policemen, though they paid no attention to me. They went into the small adjoining room that served as a 'court' and closed the door behind them. A few minutes later, two of the guards came out, walked briskly to our barred cell, unlocked it, and hauled me away from Karl's embrace, marching me towards the courtroom. The magistrate was sitting at a desk, and I was stood in front of him. Even after all this time, I was still embarrassed at being naked in front of the uniformed men and the magistrate in his suit. He read something out quickly and asked me if I had anything to say. I remained silent. Then he simply signed a paper, gave it to the inspector and banged his hammer on the desk to indicate that the "trial" was over.
The magistrate, a handsome man in his late forties with very short greying hair and beard, stood up and came towards me, speaking in near-perfect English:
"You are a brave but foolish young man. The inspector told me you accepted this sentence - it is for life: if you try to escape, you will be executed. You will have no rights of any kind - life imprisonment here means exactly that! Your life is no longer your own, it is worth less than nothing. You may be flogged, abused and degraded in any way your guards wish, and you will have no appeal. I will inform the British embassy, who will be allowed one visit. After that, you will sign a paper asking to become a national of this country, and you will no longer be British, so the embassy will not be troubled by you again. Is that clear?" I nodded.
Then the magistrate said something to the guards, who dragged me over to his desk and held me down, kicking my legs apart. I heard the magistrate move in behind me, fiddling with his trousers. I heard him spitting, then felt his stiff cock being shoved brutally into my hole. I was being fucked by the magistrate, without a word being said, as if to reinforce his point that from now on I was less than nothing, just a piece of meat to be consumed and used in any way my captors saw fit.
After he had shot his load into my guts, I was roughly pulled to my feet, turned round and pushed to my knees. The magistrate stuck his sizeable cock, stinking of my arse and still dripping sperm, into my mouth for cleaning. Once he was satisfied that I had done a reasonable job, he put his member back into his trousers without saying a word and walked out.
The guards looked down at me, sniggering, and pulled me once more to my feet and hustled me out of the courtroom and back into the cell with the other prisoners. The smell of their sweat and the frothy piss in the bucket, now filled to overflowing, was overpowering. Karl grabbed me and dragged me in behind the other prisoners. Spunk was leaking out of my hole as he stuck one of his thick fingers into it...
"Magistrate fuck you?" he asked. I nodded. "Now you really piece of shit!" he said angrily. I don't know why he was angry, I was a helpless handcuffed prisoner, I had no choice. Nevertheless, he dragged me over to the piss bucket, which also had two or three turds at the bottom of it, and pushed my face into it, holding it there till I nearly drowned. He let me up for air for a couple of seconds, then pushed my face down in the stinking mess again. He repeated this several times, to the laughter of the other inmates, before standing me on my feet and slapping my face several times till I saw stars. I did not offer any resistance - I knew this was what I deserved: and he knew it too!
I was crying like a baby when he threw me into a corner in disgust, and I sat down on my haunches. More spunk leaked out of my hole as I lowered my head in shame and humility. The other prisoners left me alone this time and I retreated into my thoughts.
After about an hour, the door of the guard house opened and I heard an English voice: obviously it was a representative from the British embassy. I was embarrassed as my name was called and I stood up, walking naked, handcuffed and fucked, with spunk leaking out of my hole towards the bars. The embassy staff member walked towards me and spoke to me from the other side of the bars: "You realise there is nothing we can do now? If you sign that paper requesting nationality of this country, we cannot do anything! Why are you doing this?" He was wearing a suit, and I was naked, shaved and had clearly been abused horribly - I went red in the face.
He asked the guards if I could be brought out and the cuffs taken off - after some demur, they agreed and the door was unlocked. I was brought out, the cuffs taken off for the first time in days and I stood before him as he sat at the infamous desk over which the prisoners were held down and caned every day. He was a big, youngish man with blond hair and blue eyes, clean-shaven - and he was clearly shocked at the way I had been treated... "There's no point asking how they've been treating you - I can see you've been flogged, branded and... I suppose those are cane marks on your buttocks?" Reddening with embarrassment, I could only nod and look down at the floor. No chair was offered to me of course, so I stood in front of him as he sat. He was silent for a few moments, looking me up and down... I covered my genitals with my hands in some attempt to maintain my dignity.
"I suppose you've been raped?" he asked, nonchalantly, since everyone knew this was the customary treatment for prisoners. I looked into his blue eyes and again nodded.
"Often?"
Again I nodded.
"How many times?" I wondered why he was asking...
"I don't know, but many times..."
"I see from the court papers you were arrested for a speeding offence. Then you tried to escape..." Of course, this was not true, but I said nothing. "Don't you think that was an idiotic thing to do? You know what the penalties here are, and they're a bloody primitive lot..."
Again, I said nothing as I stood naked before my seated interrogator.
"You realise you will have no rights from now on?" I nodded: "...and we can do nothing for you?"
"You will be less than a slave... why did you apply for citizenship?"
"Because... because - I deserve this..." my voice had dropped to a whisper.
"You deserve this? What on earth do you mean?"
"I committed a crime, I deserve to be punished..." (again in a whisper).
"Don't tell me they've brainwashed you as well! For God's sake man, have you no self-respect? If I asked to have you caned now, in front of me, do you mean to tell me you would accept that?"
I hesitated, then nodded slowly.
"I don't believe you! Guard!..." the blond young man called the guard, who came over to us.
"Cane him! Show me how you treat prisoners here!"
I was shocked as two guards came over held me down over the desk, kicked my legs apart and a third guard started to cane my buttocks viciously. The blond man from the embassy was sitting directly in front of me, observing my facial reactions as the cane cracked down on to my helpless rump. I was shocked too to discover that his cock was growing inside his trousers....
After twenty vicious cracks of the cane, they stopped. The young man took my chin in his hand and turned my face upwards to look into my eyes...
"And you think you deserve this?" I could see his cock was fully hard now...
"Yes - Sir..." (for the first time, I used this form of address to indicate my position...
"In that case, sign the paper now! Your country will forget about you, and you will remain here for ever till you die..."
He was clearly enjoying this moment, as through my tear-filled eyes I said: "Yes, Sir..."